The End For Now

3 weeks, 5 groups, and 1 crazy wild later, YWAM Las Vegas Mission Adventure Summer 2015 program has officially ended. And here is the finale photo recap.

Half of my small group. The week was difficult for me, but my small group contained joy. Their worship filled and encouraging words were a true reflection of the treasures they have stored in their hearts.

Crosswalk outreach. Each group came back with a minimum of three positive conversations with strangers. Another bonus: the cross did not hit any pedestrians in the head!

We had another Foster Connect babysitting night. The family we babysat for had five children and were excited to go to the Home Depot for their date night, I guess without children that could be fun...?

This little guy liked to snuggle and be tickled. 

In honor of National Cheesecake (July 30th), a group of staff girls went for half-off cheese cake. It was fellowship in a wonderful, delicious sense of the word.

Video survey outreach. We use the tactic of video surveys with three questions (What is love? When do you feel most loved? What do you think when you hear, "God loves you"?) to engage in conversation. The location we choose attracts many foreign tourists. One of the pairs was able to have a conversation and pray for a lady in Korean. 

YWAM LV's base founder gives a two day lecture on evangelism. He speaks on us being commanded by God to evangelism (Mark 16:15, Matthew 28:18), we are compelled by His love (2 Corinthians 5:14), and compassion (Mark 6:34) being driving factors to why we do what we do. One fun acronym many MA groups typically remember as to why we do not evangelism is the BARF factor: bad experiences, apathy, "run-belief"/unbelief causing us to run away, and fear of man. Through the lecture, groups gain an understanding of the importance of telling a lost world, are more prepared in approaching strangers, more prepared to share the Gospel and their testimonies, and are more confident when failure does come.

Viva La Worship outreach. Out of unashamed faith, we take worship, the Gospel message and testimonies to the Strip of Las Vegas and loudly proclaim who He is. 

Wordless sign outreach. These boy's sign is showing our chains being broken in Perfect Love. 

Thursday evening we have Commitment Service. It is a time of worship and reflection on the week and who God is. We challenge the groups to listen to His voice and make a commitment to something; long term missions, leading a small group, telling a friend about Christ, going to a specific country, no commitment is "small". 

The two wheels represent our circle of influence. The wheel on the left contains different ministries YWAM LV currently has, and other spheres different staff members have a heart for. The right wheel is different spheres the MA missionaries distinguished as ministry opportunities; some include farmers, musicians, hipsters, basketball team, and long boarders. It is easy to identify our spheres: where our passions are. 

The crazy group. Best part: the two groups are merged. When the family comes together, there is no distinction of skin, age, geography or denomination. 

And then come the good by's. Each hug is a reminder to be present and invest in others lives. It is not about me. It is all about Him. Every tear streaked face walking away is a testimony to the moving power of God. The family gets a little bit bigger each week.

9 weeks away from Iowa came and went, and just like that, it is over. Now I am off to finish my laundry, pack my suitcase, and board a plane tomorrow morning. Farewell for now Vegas.

The Healthy Ones

Sometimes we forget what healthy is, what it looks like, what it feels like. Living as we live, seeing what we see, hearing what we hear, I know what unhealthy is. I know what unhealthy lives like, speaks like, feels like, and smells like.

The past week we ran a normal MA group: lectures, homeless sack lunch, wordless sign outreaches, 2x2 evangelism. work duties and the like. We also had the opportunity to host a banquet. We opened our doors to our neighbors, welcoming them into our home, seating them and serving them. Our neighbors represent a variety of lives: moms, dads, children, homeless, prostitutes, students, drug dealers, drug addicts, and pimps. In opening our home to them, we provide a safe place, for many, this may be the only safe place they have been in months. Pimps sitting across from prostitutes, having conversation. Moms who have only served, being served for once, not having to worry about preparing a meal or cleaning up after. Children receiving a full meal: hamburgers, corn, salad, kabobs. Our eating room was filled with a mixture of smells: grilled meat, unwashed bodies, sweat from our servers, lingering cigarette smoke on clothes, and for me a shirt that a baby peed on.

"Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave- just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many."

Matthew 20:26-28

One girl in the MA group specifically asked me to not put her as a server because she does not like talking to people, she told me she is very shy and awkward. Naturally, I handed her a cutting board with bread, and sent her to serve. She came back to refill the bread, not happy, claiming no one wants dinner rolls. So I sent her out to make conversation. By the end of the night she was beaming, no longer shy or afraid, she was competent to speak and have fellowship. She overcame and broke the bondage to a lie.

The neighbor girl, Nana, asked me if I loved her at the
banquet, my response was an immediate, "Yes!!"

The joy of liberation for me was momentary. I was able to hold a baby girl, 8 months, for a while. Her mom was eating, leaving the hungry baby alone. I spoon fed the baby soft banana. She soon began to rock herself, pushing her chest and head far away from my body in a violent soothing motion. The reality of this young girl, Royalty, came to me. She was not being fed by her mom, she has learned to self-sooth by the age of 8 month, and she was seemingly more comfortable in the arms of a stranger than in the arms of her mother.

The reality of Royalty hurt. 

Friday night, three others and I made a spontaneous trip to LA for the Crossfit games. I was sleeping in the back seat when I was awoken to a cold burst of air: the windows were open. Fresh, cool air. Trees and grass. The place we spent the night was in a real neighborhood: houses with mowed lawns, flower beds, painted fences and windows without boards. 

The Crossfit games are designed to determine the strongest man and woman on the earth, essentially the Olympics of CF. Food vendors were a reflection of these elite human's dietary standards: avocado with egg, steak, salad, protein smoothies and apples. The health of community was present. In one of the men's heat, a competitor limped across the finish line far behind all the others, he received the loudest applause and was greeted and cheered on by all the other competitors. 

The CF games  facility was filled with some of the most elite humans on earth with fans equally as elite. They gathered together, were inspired by each other, and will go home, almost like a revival for the CF community. They will go back to their home and continue to workout in the community of their box. Their robust bodies, selective diet and bright dress attire set them apart from others on the street. They meet four or five times a week for an intensive workout of practical moves that enables them to better live in everyday life (you squat to sit down, you cling and press when picking a child up and throwing him/her into the air, the moves really are practical). Crossfitters were walking around with poise and confidence, maybe out of pride, but I saw a crowd of people who were aware of the bodies. These people worked hard, sweat, blood and tears, they sought out a higher standard of living because they knew their bodies were capable of more.

I saw a glimmer of the church. The games were similar to a conference: blow on the coals slowly turning into embers, and send the people out with a refueled fire. We are to meet frequently as a community throughout the week, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable and seek God out in our daily lives.Our faith is to saturate all areas of life, being something to aid us in every move we make, not simply an activity we do once a day.  The church is to be community and fellowship. When they see us on the streets, will they know who we are, or do we have to tell them? Are we allowing ourselves to move the way we were designed to spiritually, or do we conform to a rigid right and wrong mentality of what faith looks like?

The weekend challenged me to a higher standard of living. Spirit, mind, body. One CF competitor said the mind is over half the competition in CF. Do I limit God moving because I am scared to be radical? Do I rise to the challenge of living under a Heavenly citizenship (Philippians 3:20)? Or do I succumb to the limitations of an easier life? Will I allow the unhealthy around me move me to greater compassion, or will I defer to bitterness?

To live in Christ is a challenge to see the unhealthy, and remain healthy through His strength, so that we may heal in His name alone.

"So we are Christ's ambassadors; God is making His appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, "Come back to God!""

2 Corinthians 5:20

MA: Week One

Week one of MA was refreshing. A youth group from Vegas and a youth group from New Jersey came together, formed a team of 32 and took to the streets of Vegas. With so many exciting stories, and a personal lack of blogging, I figured the best way to recap the week would be through photos!

Two staff members and I kicked off the week with a camping trip. Four significant things about this trip: grass, trees, stars, and cold air. 

First night with the MA teams we went to Sunrise Mountain which overlooks Vegas to pray for the seven spheres of society. Idea of the night is to introduce the groups to the reality of Vegas, both positive and negatives, and began to give them a heart for the city God loves.

My incredible small group for the week!

Wordless Sign outreach: Groups of three or four MA missionaries paint a sign to attract tourists' attention on the Strip and through their photo are able to share the Gospel. This particular sign was illustrating the love of God unbinding us from sin.

During wordless sign, these two boys were able to pray for a homeless man. This was both of their first times praying for a stranger. They both admitted to being nervous, but came away smiling, excited for their next chance to pray for a stranger.

Cross walk outreach is one of the tougher outreaches because the cross automatically strikes emotion inside of people, especially a large wooden cross being carried down the Las Vegas Strip by teenagers. 

Groups typically go out nervous, receive many harsh comments and foul language thrown their way, and somehow always walk away with crazy stories of God encounters with strangers. 

I was able to talk to a man who was very perturbed by the cross walk outreach. He was mad we were doing this, telling me Christ died on the cross, we are all sinners, religion divides people, and we do not need to do this. His theology began well, talking about the freedom in Christ, then he began mentioning aliens, hot spots over cities, the true reason for space shuttle explosions, California falling into the ocean and a world inside of our world. He suggested I stop believing all the lies government tells me through public education and watch the YouTube....

My personal favorite outreach of the week was partnering with Foster Connect and babysitting for different Foster Care families in Vegas. The family my small group babysat for was able to celebrate their 14th wedding anniversary without their five children, something they said they would not have been able to do if Foster Connect had not arranged a date night for them. I left with so much love after snuggling with these girls!

Other outreaches included video surveys, homeless sack lunches, trash pick up, free prayer and 2x2 where groups of two are sent out to proclaim the Good News just as Jesus sent out His disciples.

We ended the week with another camping outing, this time 14 of us. 

Me, Hannah and Vacheral, all three returning from the Best DTS Ever to staff YWAM Las Vegas. Oh the places we have gone and the mountains we have climbed together! 

Camp site of the night. No tents needed.

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."John 16:33 

San Francisco: Check!

View from YWAM SF doorstep

I was excited when informed Mission Adventures staff would spend a week in San Francisco working at their YWAM base. There was much talk about going to the Tenderloin. In my naive Iowa mind, I was confused. What is so good about this Tenderloin joint? I thought we were going for mission work. Yes, Goldie's in Monroe is a big deal with their tenderloins and milkshakes, but to only talk about tenderloins was a little strange to me. Finally, someone explained to me, no, the Tenderloin is an area of San Fran, not a sandwich joint, in fact, they do not even have tenderloins on the West Coast. 

Best hot chocolate evangelism crew in the Tenderloin

The Tenderloin is infamous for their high-crime rates, illicit drug sale and use on the streets, prostitution and homelessness, not their sandwiches. I found myself living a week right in the middle of it. The building we stayed in was once used to shoot porn videos and as a gay club. 

We did many outreaches to the homeless, easy with them literally sleeping on our doorstep. One afternoon we made two sack lunches, one for our self and the other for a homeless person who we would share a meal and conversation with. We served a few meals at a shelter across the street from YWAM SF; one meal I put silverware inside of cups for 500 people, the other meal I scraped plates, tedious and unattractive jobs. We did prayer outreaches, hot chocolate evangelism and hosted a meal in which we brought people in off the streets, sat them at a table inside the base and served them.

Of all the things I learned in school and church about poverty, missions and life, they forgot a few things. They forgot to teach how to love the woman who offers to share her needles with you as you try to share the Gospel with her. They forgot to teach how to respect the transvestite making derogatory comments about your body. They forgot to tell me what to do about the youth safer on the streets than in their homes and how to pray for the man preparing his crack in front of you.They forgot to tell me how alone, desperate and forlorn I could feel on the mission field.

One of the days we were "homeless". We slept on the cold, basement floor of our building, then from 6 am till 4 pm we were on the streets. We had to survive a day searching for public restrooms and eating at shelters. My pride was rocked when we ate breakfast at a homeless shelter. The food was tasteless, I was served by a cheerful volunteer and I identified as homeless. It was pretty obvious the group I was with was not homeless, but I felt different. I struggled to make eye contact with the volunteers. I felt a little less purposeful, worthy, and human. 

The day after our "homeless" experience, the sky was gloomy and overcast. In an already spiritually dark neighborhood, the dirtiness of buildings, people and streets became all the more apparent in the sunless sky. I struggled to find hope. 

Homeless shelter across the street from base

Through all the missions I have been on, not one of them emotionally shook me like this one. The openness of drugs, alcohol, sex and poverty rocked me. The mangled, drug ridden bodies lay lifeless on the sidewalk. There was not much I could do for them, I could not save their life. After each encounter with a person on the street, I walked away a little heavier, a little more hopeless, a little more angry. I did not know what to do. 

The song, Nothing I Hold Onto by Will Reagan, based off Proverbs 3:5, became the theme song for the week. The lyrics say: I lean not on my own understanding, my life is in the hands of the Maker of Heaven; I give it all to you God, trusting that you'll make something beautiful out of me.

What I see I can only understand to an extent, I can only trust. I can only have faith, being confident in what I hope for and put my assurance in Him whom I cannot see (Hebrews 11:1). 

On the nine hour car ride, God, being the good good Father that He is, met me where I was. He is never intimidated by our emotions or angry with our thoughts, He will never abandon us. I learned there is a mercy only the streets and the Spirit can teach us. Yes, there is darkness. No, I cannot save every person. No, I cannot end human suffering. No, I cannot make people choose a better life path. No, it will not always be easy, fun and glamorous. But I can obey God in the moment. Out of obedience I can bring Him glory. I can choose to surrender and worship. In recognizing Him I will find hope. Just as the YWAM San Francisco building was once used for desires of the flesh, it has now been redeemed for Him. Out of obedience and prayer, miracles happen. 

In all of His faithfulness, He reveled His majesty most in the sunset as we drove across the desert back home to Vegas. The clouds glowed purple, pink and blue over the mountains flushed in reds and browns, all screaming of His greatness. He is the Maker of Heaven and Earth. He has the name of every prostitute, drug dealer, pimp, business man, barista, student and unborn child tattooed onto the palm of His hand. That, is love.

I will extol the LORD at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.

Psalm 34:1

The Wonder

One of my college professors gave me the book One Word That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton and Jimmy Page. The basis of the book is to choose a word to provide simplicity and implement self-discipline into one's life. They encourage the word to be chosen in accordance to the new year, new season of life or the like, then formulate an action plan to instill the word into the six dimensions of life: mental, physical, emotional, relational, spiritual and financial. The day before I left for Vegas I asked God for a word, He provided the word WONDER.

And Grace calls outs: you are not just a disillusioned old man who may die soon, a middle-aged woman stuck in a job and desperately wanting out, a young person feeling the fire in the belly begin to grow cold. You may be insecure, inadequate, mistaken, or potbellied. Death, panic, depression, and disillusionment may be near you. But you are not just that. You are accepted. Never confuse your perception of yourself with the mystery that you really are accepted. -Brennan Manning

The wonder of gracious acceptance has been prevalent the past week. Last week, in the mornings I helped with VBS hosted by Grace City, a local church YWAM is heavily involved with. I was with the 4s and 5s, a young enough age they do not really want to leave their parents, but old enough they loosen up quickly. There was one boy in particular, Ryan, he was not too lenient of his mom leaving. During VBS, I was the one to replace his mom. He held my hand through everything, including dance time. He sat on my lap during snacks, crafts and lessons. He accepted me. 

Much like the days working at Victory Bible Camps, VBS was a place where being calm, collective and mature was not something the kids desired in a leader. Working with kids, they want crazy, frazzled and real. We worked with a generation hungry for authenticity and vulnerability. Television, billboards and music have all been tempered, edited and altered. When kids are acting out, feel "too much" and do not preform to set standards in all aspects of life, we medicate them back to "normal". When the feelings of death, panic, depression and disillusionment begin to flood a person, we label them, outcast them and walk circles around them. 

These kids are just learning to express themselves. One boy always had to go to the bathroom during lesson time. When asked if he could hold it, he would loudly exclaim, "I am going to start peeing my pants right now!" This boy is learning to express himself. The unfiltered speech of kids is a reminder of the beauty in feeling. 

When I was in college I attended a class called Children With Exceptionalities, a education class. The ideal tactic is to ask the student what they are thinking, why they are feeling a certain way and what is going on with them. A teacher is to listen to his/her student, then proceed with how to reinforce the rules. Within this tactic, the teacher is recognizing each student has unique and individual personalities, there is no set rule to discipline or a solid "go-to" for correction.

Grace works the same way. Abba reveals His grace to His child according to their unique design. 

In our neighborhood there are a plethora of homeless and prostitutes. To mask the hurting, to make myself feel better, I will hand out water. I will look them in the eye, smile, give them some water and walk away, telling myself I am doing the best I can, I am doing all I can do. I go back into the air conditioned base, not knowing what it is to share a concrete sleeping space with strangers, cockroaches and trash. And when the emotion flares up inside me, when the desire to do something more burns within, I sooth the fire, telling myself they chose this, they did it to themselves, they can do something about it, it is their own fault. I sympathize, allowing myself to feel for a short while, then stop, sinking back into ignorance.

The wonder of Abba overcomes this slobbering mess of a life. In His love there is no sympathy, no empathy, no simple acknowledgment of the suffering. The wonder of Abba is the way He sits on the burning concrete next to me, the wonder of grace is the way Abba pulls us to Him, allowing us to rest in His lap. He chooses us in our bedraggled, beat-up, burnt out life. He asks us what we are thinking, how we are feeling, and what we are going through. 

And suddenly, what St. John of the Cross called the dark night of the soul, does not seem so scary any more. Suddenly, the wonder of Abba makes us unafraid to feel. The wonder of Abba makes it okay for me to be misunderstood because He was first misunderstood, it makes it okay to cry because He is weeping alongside me, it is okay feel because He feels so immeasurably more. The wonder of Abba allows me to recognize I am insecure, inadequate, mistaken and potbellied, and I am accepted.

For ragamuffins, God's name is Mercy. We see our darkness as a prized possession because it drives us into the heart of God. Without mercy our darkness would plunge us into despair - and for some, self-destruction. We are so poor that even our poverty is not our own: It belongs to the mysterium tremendum of a loving God. In prayer we drink the dregs of this poverty. In a sudden and luminous moment we realize that we are being accosted by Mercy and embraced even before we lay hold of ourselves. - Brennan Manning

To the Ragamuffins Alike

The church is not a Sunday morning, Wednesday evening event. The church is community. It is what gathers on Monday mornings for prayer and Thursday evening for fellowship dinners. It is what meets in coffee shops, street corners and living rooms. The church is what goes out of their way to reach others. The church does not have an agenda, but they have a Guide. The church may have a building to gather in, but the church is mobile, traveling by foot, trains, bicycles and backs of donkeys. 

The church is full of Samuels, dedicated from birth to the building of the Kingdom. There are the Sauls to Pauls, the tax collectors willing to drop everything to follow, the Priscillas and Aquilas always having opened doors, the Tabithas of a town where others cannot imagine life without her. The church is the people.

I arrived in Vegas six days ago ecstatic to be home. Sunday evening I attended the church I attended during my DTS this past fall. Grace City, the church, is filled with the ragamuffins of Vegas. It is a place of freedom, a small room filled with life. I was touched during greeting time, as in physically touched; forget the informal handshakes and table talk, these people hug you, and I mean the real deal Grandma style hugs that are deep, full and intimate. Strangers who desire to bridge the gap into family. 

It was in worship I was reminded again of what worship is. I was in awe of the freedom to jump and dance again, to clap and sing loudly again, unashamed with the fact I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. There were those speaking in tongues, some with their eyes open, some with their eyes closed. Some were sitting, some still talking with others and some were on their knees. Freedom. It is for freedom Christ came, lived, died, and lives again. Freedom.

Monday morning I attended a prayer group with Grace City church. The church currently has 10 interns living at the YWAM Las Vegas base for the summer and a team of seven from Indiana who were here for the week, also living at the YWAM base. There was a room full of people on a Monday morning gathered to lift their voices and intercede on behalf of strangers. We were praising God for things He had done this week, including salvation from a block party this past Saturday and salvation in church Sunday evening. We were praising God for healing and encouraging encounters with strangers. We were praying for current events in the new, such as ISIS. Then we prayed for those we want to give up on, throw the towel in on and deem them unchangeable, starting with those in our families. We, as a body of brothers and sisters, gathered around those who had siblings in need of prayer, and then around those who needed prayer for parents or spouses. 

There was freedom to be broken and vulnerable. There was no place for judgement, pride and condemnation because the space was imbued with the presence of God. In the presence of God there is only room for love, grace and redemption.

One of my favorite authors, Shane Claiborne, said in his book Irresistible Revolution, “And I think that's what our world is desperately in need of - lovers, people who are building deep, genuine relationships with fellow stragglers along the way, and who actually know the faces of the people behind the issues they are concerned about.” 

Through the past six days I have been reminded of what it is to be a straggler in need of prayer, and to be the straggler being crumbled under the immense grace of God in a room full of fellow stragglers. To the ragamuffins, the stragglers, the mess-ups and the outcasts, we are the church, we are the body, unified under the cross, celebrating in the freedom of the resurrection.

Daring Life

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.~ James Kavanaugh

This is an excerpt from the book "There are Men Too Gentle To Live Among Wolves", an excerpt sent to me by a friend. These two sentences encapsulate my emotion well.

I said good by to many this week who are "daring to ask of life everything good and beautiful". These are the people who have strengthened me, challenged me and walked through life with me since my return in January. They are people who were willing to wake early to catch the sunrise, willing to go on crazy adventures through the woods, and willing to be vulnerable as we share our hearts.  These gentle people are the ones who feel, they are not naive of the world's trembling hands. The gentle ones listen to words, yet hear the heart behind each syllable.

This morning was spent with a dear friend of mine I met two years ago while at Victory Bible Camp in Sutton, Alaska. We made our way through Estes Park, for me the first time being in Colorado and the Rocky Mountains. The mountains were still wearing their glistening snow crowns. We climbed an area of the park to Alberta Falls. This climb included sliding down snow laden trails, leaping from boulder to boulder bare foot, and stringing up my hammock by the roaring falls. I was able to reflect upon an incredible gift God has given me called life.

The past few weeks have not been easy. Some places I have avoided, others I could easily have been mistaken for living there. I have rushed, drifted, and worried the days away until I left for a short vacation before reaching YWAM Las Vegas for the summer. I have had many good-byes; the hardest ones reminding me I found something good.

All of it is reminding me how mundane I often created life to be. The precious moments are lost. The
pure love of a two year old holding out a dandelion is overshadowed by the bug ridden weed shoved in your face. I suppose even if Jesus had a car He would still walk, taking in every strange person, site, smell, taste and feel. He knew how to look at the person before Him, not simply the body before Him. Jesus dared the times to be different. He spoke to the outcasts and diseased. He dared physics and walked on water. He dared math and fed thousands with two fish and five loaves. He dared life to be something greater than mundane.

Unfortunately, unlike Jesus I cannot make some grand commission, remind my disciples of who I am and elevate into the sky. I can only give my finale lectures to the kids ("Make good choices!" "Wear sunscreen!" "Drink lots of water and eat fruit!"), remind my family of who they are to me and fly off into the sky.

I may find myself wondering, dreaming, loving and lonely, but I will choose to seek out of God a life dripping of freedom. Then the day will come, when He decides I have lived among the wolves for too long. He will take me home to the place I have wondered and dreamed about, a place my soul yearns for. Until I am taken, I will choose to surround myself with those who also dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful.

Current location: Scottsbluff, Nebraska. Departing: June 3 for Las Vegas, Nevada.