Abigal, her father's delight by Christen Morrow de Ara

Abigail. Her name means “her father’s delight” and she lives true to her name! Abigail’s stepfather has come to know the delight that she is and is richer for it… as are we as her Young Life leaders and community. But recently, as I have been getting to know her whole family and begun a friendship with Abigail’s mom, I’ve been able to share the delight that she is to her HEAVENLY FATHER.

Abigail’s mom Cindy is an incredibly strong woman.  She is a post partum nurse by trade and that nurturing nature carries over into every area of her life. She has known much adversity in her life and experienced hardships that would make most of us run and hide. This woman, however, continues to stand, to serve, to care for extended family, for her own Abigail, and now more than ever, to serve God. Cindy recently shared that Abigail has brought her back to her faith in Christ.

Since Abigail camp home from an inclusive week of camp this past summer, she has carried a sense of the delight of her Heavenly Father into her home. Abigail’s love is simply expressed, usually with a pat on the head and a gentle “love you,”( if you happen to have your hair in a pony tail or a bun, she may display even more of that love).   Abigail usually likes her space at club and tends to sit in the back by herself and rock and talk her way through the club talks. We’ve learned not to push her out of this space and to our surprise, that she is listening as she talks!

A couple of months ago, as Cindy dropped Abigail off for club, she mentioned a serious medical condition she was experiencing, that Abigail’s dad was being released from the hospital following surgery, and another family member hospitalized from an accident… and that she was off to care for them and would be back when club ended. As she left, my heart was heavy. I texted her and asked if we could pray for her when she returned. Cindy heartily welcomed the prayer and as another leader and I grabbed her hands to ask with her for healing in her body, Abigail joined. Abigail began to repeat our prayers, rubbing her mother’s back and reassuring her mom that Jesus heard and Jesus would heal her. “Don’t cry mom, its Ok….”  Our prayer reached the ears of her Heavenly Father who was delighted, I am sure. Her assurance of His healing power was real and deep. Her comforting of her mom was straight from the Father.  While we are still waiting to hear if she is cleared from the blood clots this week, we are rejoicing in all kinds of healing that has happened since we prayed as Cindy is experiencing grace, mercy, and a renewed relationship with Jesus.  

Abigail’s family continues to face challenges and last week lost their home in a house fire, but they have joined my family at church for several weeks now. We worship together, Abigail sings just a little louder and a beat behind the rest of the congregation and at times will join me in using sign language in her worship. Her delight in her Father and her desire to sing to Him, is a reminder to us of His delight in her… and in us. Cindy and I chatted after church Sunday about the reminder that Abigail is of the security we have to be with God and not do for God because of His delight in us… in the midst of health challenges, relationship challenges, and even in ashes. Wow. Might we know the delight we are to our Father like Abigail does. Might we bring that delight into our homes in a way that leads others into the grace and freedom Cindy is experiencing from Abigail’s leadership.

Sitting for Hours by Suzanne Williams

Last week, I boarded a plane and headed to Florida to see my Nana who had just suffered from a stroke.  She’s ninety-six and a half (this begins to count again once you get to your nineties I guess) and has lived a strong, feisty, good life. 

Each time I told someone where I was headed, I couldn’t help but hear my friend Molly’s voice loud and clear. 

It was quite some time ago when Molly’s grandmother passed away, under the incredible care of hospice.  I was driving Molly to her Special Olympics basketball practice a couple of nights later and she was, per usual, rocking out on her air guitar to the High School Musical Soundtrack.  In an instant, she dropped the air guitar and pushed the power button on my car radio for an instant silence.  She then asked, “Do you know hospice?” 

I answered with some kind words about how hospice had taken great care of her grandmother.  She looked at me and said, “No, Suzanne, do you know hospice?”  So I began again, this time talking not only about her grandmother but also Christopher’s dad and how both of those experiences were filled with great care, kindness, grace and help.

It was clear that she didn’t like my answer because she quickly responded by pointing a finger at me and saying, “Hospice, it’s a bad idea.  You go to hospice and you die.”  And just as quickly as she powered the radio off, she powered it back on and picked up her guitar. 

Well, I couldn’t argue that one and just decided to leave that up to her family, mainly her sister, knowing that someday, if they ever need hospice in their family, it won’t go over well with Ms. Stubborn. 

So here I was last week, pulling into a Hospice House in Florida and thinking about Molly and so many of my other friends in Capernaum.  It’s hard not to when a giant sign reads “Hospice” in front of you.  Might as well of had a tag line reading “Come here and you die”. 

I giggled and shared the story with my sister, and then proceeded to spend the next four days coming and going from this stunning facility, to be with my Nana.  She lay peacefully in her bed, while we sat quietly in her room and talked to her despite the lack of hearing aids.  With each visit, I thought about how so many of my friends in Capernaum have taught me what it looks like to just sit with someone.  Our friends are amazing at sitting, with no purpose other than to be next to that person.  They can sit for hours with someone and say nothing. They rest comfortably in the presence of friends, regardless of response.  And with the same stubbornness that Molly has, believe, without a doubt that their friends know fully of their presence when they are around.  They have taught me to believe and know the same to be true. 

Molly was right.  My Nana did go to hospice to die, but it certainly wasn’t a bad idea.  They cared for her well and they provided us with a place to sit in the quiet of her room, knowing full well that she was aware and grateful for our presence. 

I’m picking my air guitar back up because Hudson is requesting music from the Planes Fire & Rescue Soundtrack, which happens to have an ACDC song on it.  Power on.

Jesus Talked to Me by Christen Morrow de Ara

Do you ever long to hear God speak? Do you ever just wish He would give you a message that is from Him for you or a friend? Sometimes I long for marching orders to be made crystal clear so I can obey Him and feel confident in that! To hear even three little words whispered from Him brings order and sense to my days. Listening to the Lord can at times feel like such a discipline to me though. It means being still, being quiet, making space. It means ceasing activity and busyness so that I can tune my heart and quiet my mind. That is hard. It is something I want to be able to do better, something I strive for and have even taught my friends about and hope to help them learn to do.

My friend Megan teaches me often with a depth and a confidence that is simple yet profound. Megan graduated from Capernaum and is now part of our Friends 4 Life community group for adults over 22 hosted by a local church and run my some parents and adults in the community.  Megan loves Jesus and her family is part of a small inner city church where there is more Spanish spoken than English, and Megan, her brother EJ, and sister Maddie are all welcomed and embraced with a simple understanding that Down Syndrome doesn’t make them any less valuable as members of their church. After church last Sunday, Megan’s mom, Michelle, called me.   

As I answered the phone, I could hear Megan in the background. Her stutter draws me in, it causes me to lean toward her and focus more intently to understand what she is saying, I found myself leaning into my phone as I navigated my shopping cart through crowded aisles, balancing the phone and managing the baby.  “Megan wanted you to know that she listened to Jesus and Jesus talked to her!” During worship, Megan often plays “air guitar,” but may also begin to dance or use sign language as part of her expression of her love for Jesus. Evidently, this past Sunday, she sat quietly. As worship ended, Megan leaned over to her mom and said “Jesus talked to me,” Megan stuttered. Michelle has been raising kids with special needs for 27 years and she has seen and heard lots of imaginative things from her children, but she sensed something different in Megan. “What did Jesus say to you, Megan?” she asked. “No more sad. He said that. No more sad.” Michelle told me that she wrestled with it but felt as they were leaving that if the Lord had spoken, it was purposeful and the pastor should know. Michelle marched Megan up to the pastor and helped her communicate her message. The pastor dissolved in tears. “That message was for me. Only God knows the sadness I’ve been carrying.”  Megan embraced her pastor and patted his back as she did, repeating “N-n-n-o more sad.” After the pastor thanked her and he wiped his tears of joy and relief, Megan smiled, waved goodbye and hopped in the car “I’m hungry, mom.”

Hearing from Jesus wasn’t something she needed broadcast to the church or used to gain approval or recognition, but it wasn’t something she doubted or second-guessed either. Jesus spoke, she heard, she shared and people were touched. It’s that simple. Jesus talks to those who listen and His words are life giving, healing, and transformational. I want to hear Jesus like Megan does and then I want to share what I hear with a simple faith and great joy… and then go get some lunch!

Co-Laborers "WITH ness" by Lyn Ten Brink

I have a quote in my Bible, not sure who said it so my apologies to you mystery person, but it is:

“Dynamic Spirituality happens when the context of the gospel slams into the context of every day life.”

Then I have a list of gospel stories where this is true:

Jesus in Peter’s boat catching 2 boats full of fish.  Peter heard Jesus preach all day yet it wasn’t until 2 boats were full of fish (Peter’s everyday life of a fisherman) that Peter saw Jesus for who he was- the Son of God.

You get the idea.

The past year I have been keeping my own list of when the context of the gospels slams into the context of my every day life and one of those moments was at our spring Capernaum gathering in Nashville this past year.   Each division invited a few Capernaum friends who had graduated from Capernaum and were now YL leaders in their community.

GR came with Ann Brown from Omaha, NE.  GR and I first met 3 years prior when he was on work crew at Castaway for a month.  GR had graduated from his Capernaum club and was now a leader on the Capernaum team.  During those few days in Nashville, we ate together, sang together, karaoke together even went boot shopping together…. but it wasn’t until we were sitting next to each other during a teaching time that Jesus slammed into the context of my everyday Capernaum life. 

I was sitting next to GR and Pam Harmon was leading us in devotions and I looked over at GR who sat there with his Bible open and he was taking notes. Slam!  

Instantly, I was so moved by that fact that I was siting and learning WITH GR! My entire Capernaum career I have been leading, teaching, meeting Capernaum friends but never was I learning WITH them.  Never have I been trained WITH them.  GR is whole and a new creation and he is ready to be a co-laborer of the “good news” WITH me.

Jesus trudged his disciples all over the countryside introducing them to a variety of people and teaching the “good news” hoping and anticipating that the scales would fall off his disciples eyes so that they would see each person the way he sees them as whole and new.   I saw my Capernaum friend’s whole and new that day.  There was a scale that had to fall off so I could see the next step in Capernaum of “withness”- co-laboring.

Some of GR’s Notes are now MY notes as a reminder that we are WITH each other as disciples.

“My disability(ability) does not disqualify me from learning about Jesus.”

“What if I was known for serving.”?

“We need to watch and see what God has for us.”

Who do you need to see as a co-laborer? 

Oh Come Let us Adore Him by Suzanne Williams

My friend Molly came back to town for Christmas this year and my heart exploded when we ran to each other in front of my favorite coffee shop and embraced.  A long, tight, I’ve missed you so very much hug that Molly manages to do perfectly, each time that I see her.  We caught up over tea and I got to hear about her new home and the new church that she has visited there.  She told me that she didn’t like the church too much because they don’t have a lot of worship.  She said they don’t sing loud and they don’t have a lot of fun during worship.  She hopes that she can find a new church that does. 

I wondered if she meant that when she’s in that church, it’s like standing next to a bunch of people like me, people who have become far to self-conscious about their voice to let themselves worship. 

I use to sing really loud, despite the fact that I don’t have a great voice.  I remember some friends here and there commenting on my freedom to worship, despite my horrible singing voice and it didn’t seem to stop me or even make me the slightest bit self-conscious about what I sounded like. 

Then I moved to Nashville.

In the first month or so of living here, we went to a bowling alley that also happens to be a karaoke bar, with some friends.  I was so excited for karaoke until we walked into the room and I was surrounded by musicians, professional ones.  You know, the ones who get paid to sing on stages.  They were all belting out their performances, but despite laughter, hilarious songs and impressions of other musicians, they still sounded amazing.  I didn’t get up that night and do karaoke.  In fact, I can’t say that I have done it since.  I also discovered, that I sing a lot more quietly and pay far more attention to what I sound like, than I ever did before.  Maybe it’s that I’m surrounded by professional musicians or maybe it’s that enough people have told me that I have a horrible voice, but either way, it’s changed me.  And not for the better.

The night after Molly and I had tea together, we were at the same Christmas Eve service. I saw Molly’s heart during worship that night.  At one point, when I looked over, she was playing the air drums to a song, while singing so loudly that I could hear her two sections over.  During another song, she was dancing in the aisle, again I could hear her voice.  And then, as the service ended, she showed our congregation, yet another way to let your heart enter into worship. Thankfully, a dear friend captured it on film. 

As I watched her, I was reminded of all of this and found myself longing for the same freedom that Molly has.  A freedom to embrace and a freedom to worship.  May your new year be filled with singing that is loud, free, dancing in the aisle, air drum playing kind of worship.  I know mine will be.

Last Man Standing by Christen Morrow de Ara

Woodleaf is a holy place to me. It’s the first place I took kids with disabilities to camp and watched the Holy Spirit transform them. It’s the first place I saw typical kids embrace our friends with disabilities so fully. In fact, Young Life’s Woodleaf was recently recognized as the most diverse Christian camp in the world!

This past summer I saw the beauty of that diversity again in a fresh way. A group from Bishop, California came with 12 guys and their 2 leaders. Mostly athletes, this was a high-energy group who embraced every adventure and challenge with physical prowess and excitement that only an adolescent male can know. Night one, I watched them make their way down to the obstacle course in their camouflage gear, mud caked under their eyes chanting a call and response, but I was struck when I noticed the last guy in their group who was calling out their cheer to which they responded. John had an undeniable place among this cabin of boys. He rallied them on, hyped them up, called them forward, motivated them, all the while struggling to keep up as his four-foot-five-inch frame carried a lot of weight and moved slowly.  In any other setting, it would be clear that he has developmental delays, but here they disappear when he is in his role of motivator and cheerleader. I watched his calls carry his friends through the obstacle course and watched as they would complete a task then turn, without skipping a beat, as a group and reach arms over walls, under nets, through tires to pull, lift, and even carry him through as though it was the most natural act of teamwork. They were one.

John seemed to be about 100 yards behind this group anywhere in camp that they were moving just because of his own struggle physically to move, but not an inch behind their hearts and participation. Cabin unity games, mud wars, high dive contest, he was central to who they were. There wasn’t a struggle to include or a burden to make him part of their group—he just was. On more than one occasion, John somehow ended up on stage in a game, in the center of the water regatta or dancing as the program characters entered and all of a sudden, his 11 cabin mates would jump up next to him to join him, chant his name, or cheer him on.  They were the first to celebrate him.

I’ll never forget him as the last man standing in a game one night on stage in club, his 11 high school aged friends began to chant his name in celebration of his victory and in response, 370 typical high school kids and their leaders sprung to their feet to join—a standing ovation by 381 people who called him by name in celebration and embrace.  I don’t know many places on earth that our friends with disabilities are so fully invited, welcomed, and celebrated than in Young Life, a young man who the world might find unlovely or unwanted totally embraced into a family, a young man whose loss of his own father is being filled by Godly male leaders walking alongside of him and embracing who he is with joy, acceptance, and adventure…. This is John’s experience in his Young Life area.  It was no surprise to me that on the last day at Say So, John stood, took the microphone and exclaimed “I’m comin’ home to Jesus, man!” and the camp once again erupted in cheers, laughter and tears.

Woodleaf continues to be a holy place for all of us who experience this kind of embrace. We are all made more whole, feel more healed, and sense the welcome of our Heavenly Father when we watch the Johns of our community invited in, welcomed, and celebrated. We need them!