Cracks and Jesus Glue

   Some of you know that my mother suffered from bipolar disorder for many years of my life. She found support in church friends, on occasion, but I know others from our homeschooling or church circles gave her platitudes. Jesus loves you; you can do anything through him; I love you too, I hope you know that. None of that was particularly helpful, but for many I know they thought it was a genuine fix if she’d only listen.

I’m still a bit confused as to why Christians tend to think religious platitudes will help solve the great problems of life. I’m even more confused when Christians judge those who can’t ingest the platitudes and use them to turn their lives around. Sometimes things are just too broken to cover up with the clever use of a Bible verse, or a sermon, or a series on God’s love. My mother used to talk to me about “receptors” when I couldn’t understand her mental illness. “I can read a verse about God’s love a hundred times,” she said, “but until I can receive it, it doesn’t make a difference. Sometimes my receptors are damaged or numb, and I can’t experience the truth in the words I’m reading. I know it’s true, but it doesn’t change how I am or how I feel.”

Five days at headquarters

Driving through Iowa is more fun than most people realize. There's a great deal of sky that you don't see when you live in a river valley, and if you drive over half the state in one day, you get to see the sky a variety of colors. I passed an Amish event (the farmyard looked like a sale lot for carriages), I got stuck behind the slowest Missouri driver I've ever seen, and I saw a set of crosses with an empty, open tomb below; a statue of Jesus standing in front of it with his hands raised to heaven. This was in southern Iowa, arguably the top of the Bible belt.

I feel blessed to drive through Iowa on my way to and from Missouri this week, and not just for the beautiful sunlight and scenery. I got to visit my grandmother on the way down, and she seems to be doing well, despite the health difficulties and chemotherapy treatments. My grandfather I didn't get to see. He's back in the hospital and I don't know if he'll be out for Thanksgiving. It's starting to hit home for me that their days on earth are not long, and what they have left is going to be difficult for them and all the family around them. I cried much of the way to headquarters after that visit, which means that (yay for pale skin!) my eyelids are STILL puffy and darkly circular three days later.

Admittedly, it wasn't the best way to start my week at missionary candidate school, but the first official day was still excellent. I met a couple of my fellow candidates at breakfast, and we got to chat during prayer card photos. I've seen our former state director at meals (she now works at headquarters), and a couple of friends who are working here now have stopped to talk with me in the halls.

Ministry fail. You lose all your points.

"I'm sorry... I really didn't keep good records for my work last month," I muttered to the committee, feeling at first ashamed, then relieved when no one seemed to think this a yelling matter.

Amidst the sounds of understanding from the committee members, one joked, "Well we may have to fire you now."

I laughed, feeling like a weight had dropped off of me at their response. But the other committee members grew serious in an instant.

Not funny.

Sooo... What DID CYIA look like this year?

Let's see if my brain has processed the two weeks of camp yet!

     There certainly were all kinds of adventures. There was serious car trouble when missionaries started heading out to 5-day clubs the second week. Then on our way home, two of our area missionaries got in a car accident that could have killed them, but they only suffered some bruises and sore muscles. The paramedics must've had an interesting night, because the two missionaries found the situation very funny and couldn't stop making jokes about it. God must have surrounded them with more than airbags in that car -- the front was completely smashed in.

So... we got back on Friday night...
that is Friday, June 22nd... and at least one summer missionary I know slept until 5:00 Saturday night. That's how tiring camp is, I guess.
It was intense.

So intense that...people had to write things down.

     The summer missionaries I worked with were mostly in the missionary class, meaning it was their first year and they would not be learning how to teach a Bible lesson. They would, however, learn everything else. :) Their requirements included presenting to their instructors all five missionary stories and segments, presenting the Wordless Book twice, presenting counseling for salvation, teaching a Bible memory verse, a 5-day club song, and a prayer teaching.

It was a lot of work!

Even more things written down.

     Our team of 9 young ladies was epic.

Their personalities are on all points of the... what shall I call it -- the personality spectrum. One of the girls has attended 5-day clubs as a kid for years, and she was passionate about learning how to share the Gospel -- not just for the summer, but in school too. She worked super hard, and finished her requirements with excellence!
     Another missionary had a harder time focusing. She's a people-person who likes to shake things up... not a good personality for finishing a task on time. But when she came back from her first 5-day club during our second week of training, she was excited to be actually reaching kids with the gospel of Christ. Her heart was touched by what God was doing in the lives of her students.
     These two missionaries are both first year students. But another of the girls, a 14-year-old second-year student, blew the rest of us away with her focus and hard work. Her skill at keeping things focused when others were pulling away was incredible to see. She is good at getting people engaged in the task at hand, and keeps things interesting so they remain focused. She's one of our four Bible teachers this year (meaning she had to present all five Bible lessons and at least a couple of the missionary stories, plus all the requirements of a missionary class student). Whew! What dedication.
It was an encouragement.

     So many new friendships were forged, and old ties from last year were strengthened. One of my friends, who started teaching about the same time I did, came back this summer -- she skipped last year, and we really missed her. She's gotten engaged in the interval (!!!), so of course we had to talk about that. I also got to counsel a cabin of girls who were leaving after the first week of camp -- meaning I lost my cabin halfway through training! -- and they were all super-friendly, uber-talkative people. No drama, no cattiness. Just new friendships and unity in our common goal. What a blessed year.

It was  S O  M U C H  F U N.

Overcoming

Life is not always very much fun, especially the life of a believer in Christ.  That might sound hopeless, but it's actually a declaration of hope in the nature of God. If God hadn't been willing to go to war with Satan for our souls, we would be in a heck of a spot. Quite literally, a heck of a spot... one of our own doing.

Oswald Chambers once said that "life without war is impossible, either in nature or in grace". Nature is at war because of the fall into sin, but the fight of grace in our lives is based in Christ. God's gift of His Son, which we'll be celebrating in full force 21 days from now, gave us hope for the future. But it didn't come without a cost.

If the Christian life is to be anything like Christ's, it is to be set apart and holy for God's use, however painful His usage is.