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.

Snow

[As explained previously, I have a bit of a backlog of half-complete posts from this past spring/summer.  This was written in early May.  Interesting perspective looking back.  The darkness (part 2) comes and goes, but is mostly a light grey.  As to being jealous of the opportunities others take (part 1), well, I'm definitely taking advantage of more of the chances I get these days...  Mediocre results, maybe, but nonzero results.]

Snow, Part 1

Colorado has been experiencing some slightly unseasonable snowstorms, dropping enough snow to make the roads slightly "exciting" on random nights.  This fact combined with some variable work hours means that I've had the "opportunity" to experience wildly varying commute conditions.

One night, I was coming home from work in the wee hrs of the morning and noticed some bizarre tracks in the snow lying on one of the back roads on my route.  The road was icy enough that I was cautiously driving under the speed limit, but not enough to significantly worry me.  The tracks weren't straight or turning as I might expect, or even the slowly-veering, acutely-ending tracks of an arrested skid. Instead, it was the intertwined pairs of sinuous, snakey tracks that spoke of continuous skid; a car yawing one way then the other.  At first, I felt sorry for them - the tracks told a tale of a drive barely in control, certainly more exciting than I would wish for.  At least, that was what it looked like until I caught up to the car leaving said tracks.

Another car was keeping pace slightly ahead of me when we found them.  The car leaving snake-like tracks was purposefully prolonging their skid indefinitely.  As a rear-wheel-drive vehicle, it's easy to add just a little extra accelerator to break the tires loose, then hold it to keep the friction near zero.

At first I was a little angry at the other driver, but I wasn't at all sure why.  Was I angry at them for inconveniencing me?  No, they were way ahead of me on an otherwise empty road for a long time.  Was I annoyed at their apparent irresponsibility?  Not really, as it only became irresponsible once there were other cars around.  When I caught up, the skidding stopped, so they returned to acting responsibly.

Maybe it was the anger of "wish I had thought of that".  Maybe I was disappointed I hadn't thought of such a thing or that I felt too straitlaced to follow through on an apparently risky idea.  Maybe it was anger rooted in sour grapes - envious that they apparently felt so free while I felt boxed in.

One of my friends and I were discussing life dreams and opportunities the other day.  I was waxing slightly wistful that I had missed some of the opportunities in my life int he name of being responsible.  whether it was during college or flight school or whatever, a common theme was that I had passed over stuff because I felt I had to be the responsible one.  I sign up for the long-term at the expense of the short term, which often becomes ironically shortsighted and narrow minded.  It's been all the way until this year that I've finally started pursuing some shorter-term opportunities at the cost of unrealized long-term expectations.

Maybe I shoulda e-braked my car all the way down Kipling.  Who knows, it  might have been an interesting adventure. :-)

Snow, Part 2

Wednesday was May 1st.  In typical tradition for this spring, it snowed.  Again.  people are starting to complain.  personally, I'm a little tired of it.  In April, i understand that we need the moisture and I'll sure trade snow now for less fires this summer.  In May, it just seems silly.

This week has been an interesting week.  It's been a contrast of times spent close to people and feeling far away, elation to dismay and confusion.  One friend's Facebook post pointed out that the sky is always bluer after a storm, as if the snow flushes out all that was polluting its beauty.  I suppose my usual perspective is that variety is good and Colorado provides plenty of that.

This week's snow, though, was big heavy flakes, driven on the wind.  instead of refreshing and variety, it felt insulating.  Isolating.  Numbing.  Cold.  what should be warm in this season is instead cold and dreary.  Some of my friendships feel like they're drifting from warm and cheery to cold and dreary.  No flowers from spring showers here, just slippery going and grey skies.

Surfacing

(Originally written June 6, 2013)

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long
And when I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean
Longing for the shore,
where I can lay my head down
-“The Good Left Undone”

Rise Against. That's all I have stuck in my head for a day and a half at the end of my ALHC trip. No great revelations, no clever status, no joyous regaling of tales. Just...Rise Against. Then I started thinking about my life, my choices, and the results thereof.  The more I thought, the more I decided that the lyrics might be more accurate than I wanted to admit, both specifically and generally.

"It's for you! Your life is calling - it misses you!"  My teammate was goofing off before a competition, using a chip clip like a phone and holding it out to me.  His phrasing caught me off guard and I laughed really hard.  "Tell it I'm busy dancing and will get back to it later" was my flip response.  As the weekend wore on, I started wondering how true his observation had been.

ALHC was our last performance with my team "travel buddy".  She's leaving us to focus on her academic and professional development.  On the subway between the event venue and the airport, she was talking about how she felt that she had sacrificed other important things for DSP this semester and felt she needed to re-focus her life elsewhere.

As I listened, I counted back through my life for the last few months and started noticing small subtle changes, little endings of many things, as we had worked hard towards the competition.  I had let some friendships go, attempting to substitute teammates as new friends in lieu of maintaining my established friendships, an effort that met with fair to middling success.  My other hobbies went on hold for the time being...I haven't sent lead downrange, gone hiking, or even done much cooking in the last few months.  I like to write and making words on a keyboard often helps lend order to my usually-scattered thought patterns, but even my writing took a back seat.  During my downtime after the trip, I was looking through my notetaking software when I came across a half-finished blog entry I'd written "a couple days before".  I was surprised when I noted the date originated - May 1!  It had been a full month since I had put thought to words and I had since totally abandoned the thought train.  I even suspended my climbing gym membership because I couldn't afford the physical exertion and late nights to both climb and dance.

Over three or four weeks, I started noticing more and more behaviors not in keeping with my known character.  The little things, the choices I wouldn't normally make. Places and situations where I just seemed “off my game”.  It's not how Kenton should be acting.

Somehow, not had just my hobbies and friendships had gone underwater, not just my hopes and goals had been o'ertaken by this tide, but somehow even my very personality became submerged.  All without my knowledge or my consent.  I seemed under the surface and confused as to which way was up.  All I knew was that I'd become focused on one weekend, with one minor side goal.  To dance in Chicago, to win, to succeed, such became my drive, nearly my only life's goal.  And such almost became the drive that consumed me.

Now I sleep, though.  Now life is better.

---

(Updated 13-Oct)


That's where the story ended in my head in June.  Lost, underwater, and tumbling.  It took me a while longer to figure out which way was up, how to get there, and where to go after that.

It took me two more months to quit the dance team.  You know, the dance team that I loved, that challenged me to push my skills and focus and stuff.  The dance team that led me to travel to various illustrious Midwestern destinations to show off and compete, only to have our (my) hopes crushed every time.  That dance team that inspired me to hone my social skills on so many occasions and where I really found a lot of my self-confidence.

That dance team – the one was slowly and unceasingly driving me crazy.  I didn't realize how deep or how far the crazy in my life had become until I left.  Perspective is a wonderful thing often only given by time and as that time passes, I started to feel like me again.  I got my head above water and found just how much I'd missed for the last couple months.  “Last visited” dates on my blog, a backlog of half-written stream-of-consciousness entries that had seemed so important at the time, and how little I'd been enjoying my life – all of these things sat around my life like half-unpacked boxes in a beautiful apartment.

“Not a day goes by when I don't feel this burn
There's a point we pass
From which we can't return
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm”
(still Rise Against)

Would there have been a point from where I didn't return?  Would have the intricate amazing parts of my life been left forever hidden away, life having rushed by them?  I don't know, but I'm glad I didn't pass such a point.  I'm back now, and it's good.

It's time to blow the dust off things and set them back on the mantel where they can show.

What does that mean for me and for you?  (assuming there is a “you” - a writer writes for him/herself, but also for an audience)  Well, first of all, it means that I'm going to go back through all those entries that were never published.  I'll clean them up a bit and make sure they are coherent, then post them to share.  They may be a little rough, as I don't feel like totally re-writing them or necessarily changing the tone wherein they were written.  After that, I'm looking forward to unpacking all that I've observed and learn in the last many months.  The writing helps me organize my thoughts and work them out, and I'm excited to go back to making coherent patterns out of the scattered bits of life here and there.

Here's to continuing a journey long abandoned.

2012 In Review

Today is December 31st, 2012. It's worth at least a few minutes to ponder the last twelve months.

At the end of 2011, I'd pretty much put my life back together again after picking myself up from a mess.  I'd just started to "walk" again socially.  "Learning to walk again/I believe I've waited long enough", the Foo Fighters spoke to my life.  It had been a year of rebuilding.

Tonight I sit in a hotel room with my family, halfway across the country from home - not how I figured I'd end my year.  Last year, I was tired of my year, retiring to bed at 10 PM.  That way, I could be done with my dramatic year and start the new year afresh.  Apparently I got what I wanted.  This year, I'm content in myself and my life.  I've had a year of great experiences and memories that I wouldn't trade away.

2012 has been good to me.  New friends, old friends, new experiences, revisiting things I used to enjoy.  I've rekindled friendships and let some drift away.  I've found time for competitive shooting again and introduced some of my friends to the sport.  I've gone swing dancing a few times, then found a social niche there and pursued it heavily. Road trips, late nights, parties, late movies.  All these have been part of my year this year.

Rather than "learning to walk again", I've moved on with my life and grown further.  There have been times of running down life's paths in 2012 and even moments of flying (without too much crashing).  God has been very good to me.  I can't wait to see what will be new and exciting for 2013.

Life is good.

God is better.

Happy New Year.