Remember This
Last weekend was, of course, Easter Weekend. My church always has extra services for Christmas and Easter and since my family is close and my plans are simple, I always sign up to volunteer for multiple services. This summer marks four years since I started volunteering with Summit and I've enjoyed it a lot and grown as a person as I twist knobs, click slides, and move sliders.
On top of the usual logistical announcements, one of our staff leaders called us to a few simple things as we served this Easter. First, he called us to take one moment, pause, and breathe. To look around and notice what God was doing around us and that we got to take part in.
Let me set a perspective – my church is very large and the kids ministry is proportionately well-populated. Our room is the largest of the elementary-age group and my service (largest of the usual four) sees 220-270 kids in my room most weekends. To brace for the increased crowd at Christmas and Easter, everything takes an extra step and half up in intensity from its usual focus. Usually, two teams alternate weeks, but both teams are scheduled for holidays. Special teachings and games are planned, the church makes sure us volunteers are well fed (and usually hyped up on sugar), and “all hands on deck” becomes the general air. Instead of the usual 600ish kids across all services, we saw likely over 1000 kids in our room this weekend. Each service had more leaders than I usually see, which helped the kid-teacher ratio stay low.
In the midst of the rush of “kids in, kids leaving”, Easter candy sugar highs, flying Easter eggs, and trying to make sure nobody dies to errant basketballs, sometimes it's easy to miss sight of the fact that those thousand kids are learning that God loves them and doesn't hurt them. This weekend, they were learning that anyone can follow Jesus and even if we make mistakes like Peter did, denying that he had anything to do with Jesus, it's still possible to turn around, change our lives, and go back towards God. That's a steep lesson even as an adult – realizing that there's no way that we could mess up bad enough to hurt our standing with God or to make it impossible for Him to fix all of our shortcomings.
What a calling and an opportunity to love someone else's kids for an hour or two! To be honest, I'm unabashedly Tech Team, so I usually hang out in my little sound booth, make the big wheels roll, and run interference between teachers and annoyances like wrong slides and recalcitrant microphones. Nonetheless, when I do what I do best (techy things), I also get to see other people do what they do best (love kids and make them feel valued). And that's pretty amazing.
Sadly, this staff worker is leaving our room at the end of the summer to pursue a different ministry opportunity. It sounds super exciting and like it's God's will, but he's still leaving both our church and the state, which is sad. A truth he's been focusing on lately is that he has a finite yet unknown number of weekends left with us. His wife reminds him to “stop and soak it in. Soak in the moments where you see God working.” He may be leaving but what about any of the the rest of us? How many more times would we get to participate in touching little lives and pointing them at God?
One of my leaders brought this home to me personally by pointing out that since I'm transitioning to Production Team in the big auditorium, this Easter was very likely my last regular weekend in Summit. I was pretty tickled that for whatever reason, I didn't even have to fight with anyone for my seat as I got permanently marked in as “tech” for all services. It's not that I don't want to share. It's more that I have comparative advantage for tech and comparative disadvantage for being social in a group of strangers, no matter the age. It was weird to think that after years of the same countdowns and the same worship songs, I wouldn't be hearing them many more times. How I feel about the transition is an entirely different blog entry, but the poignancy of leaving the ministry that's been home ever since my last big life shift pervaded my volunteer time. Thus I strove to do what Stephen said and participate fully in all the moments I saw and thank God for them. I even made a list so I could share them, even though I think the whole list will be “guess you just had to be there”.
Remember This. How many moments do you have left? Are you making the best of every one, or just watching them trail away?
Some moments I lingered in this week:
- I love my church – where else could I hear OK Go, AWOLNATION, and “Uptown Funk” from stage in the space of an hour? As Jim said, “I bet no other church is doing this song for Easter today.”
- Watching the hearing-impaired brother and sister across the room have their own conversation during the teaching. At first I thought he was interpreting for her which really floored me. Nevertheless, it was obvious that they were a team in a big world.
- This weekend, I rode Toothless, which my friends unaffectionately call “the nerd bike”. Two out of two days, though, someone wanted to talk to me about about some feature of my bike. My first reaction is “go away, I'm on my way somewhere”, but then I realized it was an amusing occasion worth relaxing into. FYI, discussing the merits of various bikes one stoplight at a time through earplugs and a helmet is hard.
- I'm going to miss the straight unadulterated enthusiasm of the kids and leaders for worship. In my room, the sound system is pretty limited so I usually have the video/music turned up all the way and it still often gets drowned out. So cool.
- I'm amazed by the heart that every Circle of Friends (special needs) volunteer has. Even in the small amount of time they spend in our room, I've seen them have patience and determination and deal with much bad behavior so that one kid they're accompanying can feel a part of the group with the “normal” kids.
- Watching the little girl with the shaved head rock out in the crowd. Whatever she's dealt with or been dealing with, it didn't hold her back from singing and dancing just as hard as everyone else. That puts what I think are big problems in my life rather in perspective.
- The teacher who realized too late that his words had a rather unfortunate alternate meaning...twice in two different services. “...My special friend...” is probably not the best choice of words for our guest.
- Marveling at the leaders who, just months ago, came in hesitant about kids or volunteering or who knows what. Now they're the ones making friends, talking to kids, and finding that loner kid against the wall.
- Watching the staff worker who always has the diplomatic answer to most things and seemingly boundless energy. I wish I was half that cool and motivated to help others see Jesus.
- I'm grateful for my care pastor and the volunteers that made sure we were fed all weekend. My strategy (for most occasions) is that I work hard and eat appropriately to fuel the machine...i.e. frequently. I think after the third time I came through the line, Lisa just pretended she didn't see me. :-)
- Realizing I spent 14-15 hours (almost 2 work days) at church over the 3-day weekend. My choice, but still crazy.
I love my church and the opportunities I've been given.
On top of the usual logistical announcements, one of our staff leaders called us to a few simple things as we served this Easter. First, he called us to take one moment, pause, and breathe. To look around and notice what God was doing around us and that we got to take part in.
Let me set a perspective – my church is very large and the kids ministry is proportionately well-populated. Our room is the largest of the elementary-age group and my service (largest of the usual four) sees 220-270 kids in my room most weekends. To brace for the increased crowd at Christmas and Easter, everything takes an extra step and half up in intensity from its usual focus. Usually, two teams alternate weeks, but both teams are scheduled for holidays. Special teachings and games are planned, the church makes sure us volunteers are well fed (and usually hyped up on sugar), and “all hands on deck” becomes the general air. Instead of the usual 600ish kids across all services, we saw likely over 1000 kids in our room this weekend. Each service had more leaders than I usually see, which helped the kid-teacher ratio stay low.
In the midst of the rush of “kids in, kids leaving”, Easter candy sugar highs, flying Easter eggs, and trying to make sure nobody dies to errant basketballs, sometimes it's easy to miss sight of the fact that those thousand kids are learning that God loves them and doesn't hurt them. This weekend, they were learning that anyone can follow Jesus and even if we make mistakes like Peter did, denying that he had anything to do with Jesus, it's still possible to turn around, change our lives, and go back towards God. That's a steep lesson even as an adult – realizing that there's no way that we could mess up bad enough to hurt our standing with God or to make it impossible for Him to fix all of our shortcomings.
What a calling and an opportunity to love someone else's kids for an hour or two! To be honest, I'm unabashedly Tech Team, so I usually hang out in my little sound booth, make the big wheels roll, and run interference between teachers and annoyances like wrong slides and recalcitrant microphones. Nonetheless, when I do what I do best (techy things), I also get to see other people do what they do best (love kids and make them feel valued). And that's pretty amazing.
Sadly, this staff worker is leaving our room at the end of the summer to pursue a different ministry opportunity. It sounds super exciting and like it's God's will, but he's still leaving both our church and the state, which is sad. A truth he's been focusing on lately is that he has a finite yet unknown number of weekends left with us. His wife reminds him to “stop and soak it in. Soak in the moments where you see God working.” He may be leaving but what about any of the the rest of us? How many more times would we get to participate in touching little lives and pointing them at God?
One of my leaders brought this home to me personally by pointing out that since I'm transitioning to Production Team in the big auditorium, this Easter was very likely my last regular weekend in Summit. I was pretty tickled that for whatever reason, I didn't even have to fight with anyone for my seat as I got permanently marked in as “tech” for all services. It's not that I don't want to share. It's more that I have comparative advantage for tech and comparative disadvantage for being social in a group of strangers, no matter the age. It was weird to think that after years of the same countdowns and the same worship songs, I wouldn't be hearing them many more times. How I feel about the transition is an entirely different blog entry, but the poignancy of leaving the ministry that's been home ever since my last big life shift pervaded my volunteer time. Thus I strove to do what Stephen said and participate fully in all the moments I saw and thank God for them. I even made a list so I could share them, even though I think the whole list will be “guess you just had to be there”.
Remember This. How many moments do you have left? Are you making the best of every one, or just watching them trail away?
Some moments I lingered in this week:
- I love my church – where else could I hear OK Go, AWOLNATION, and “Uptown Funk” from stage in the space of an hour? As Jim said, “I bet no other church is doing this song for Easter today.”
- Watching the hearing-impaired brother and sister across the room have their own conversation during the teaching. At first I thought he was interpreting for her which really floored me. Nevertheless, it was obvious that they were a team in a big world.
- This weekend, I rode Toothless, which my friends unaffectionately call “the nerd bike”. Two out of two days, though, someone wanted to talk to me about about some feature of my bike. My first reaction is “go away, I'm on my way somewhere”, but then I realized it was an amusing occasion worth relaxing into. FYI, discussing the merits of various bikes one stoplight at a time through earplugs and a helmet is hard.
- I'm going to miss the straight unadulterated enthusiasm of the kids and leaders for worship. In my room, the sound system is pretty limited so I usually have the video/music turned up all the way and it still often gets drowned out. So cool.
- I'm amazed by the heart that every Circle of Friends (special needs) volunteer has. Even in the small amount of time they spend in our room, I've seen them have patience and determination and deal with much bad behavior so that one kid they're accompanying can feel a part of the group with the “normal” kids.
- Watching the little girl with the shaved head rock out in the crowd. Whatever she's dealt with or been dealing with, it didn't hold her back from singing and dancing just as hard as everyone else. That puts what I think are big problems in my life rather in perspective.
- The teacher who realized too late that his words had a rather unfortunate alternate meaning...twice in two different services. “...My special friend...” is probably not the best choice of words for our guest.
- Marveling at the leaders who, just months ago, came in hesitant about kids or volunteering or who knows what. Now they're the ones making friends, talking to kids, and finding that loner kid against the wall.
- Watching the staff worker who always has the diplomatic answer to most things and seemingly boundless energy. I wish I was half that cool and motivated to help others see Jesus.
- I'm grateful for my care pastor and the volunteers that made sure we were fed all weekend. My strategy (for most occasions) is that I work hard and eat appropriately to fuel the machine...i.e. frequently. I think after the third time I came through the line, Lisa just pretended she didn't see me. :-)
- Realizing I spent 14-15 hours (almost 2 work days) at church over the 3-day weekend. My choice, but still crazy.
I love my church and the opportunities I've been given.
posted by The student of life at 9:27 PM
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