Cabin Fever Festival

John just finished eating his left arm, and is consequently full of himself.



I thought of that a few days ago, but had nowhere to put it since Facebook statuses must be worded in the third-person present tense. Now it serves as a clever attention-grabbing intro to what I was going to start this post with:

I am full.

But not full of myself, as would normally be the case. I'm full of God. It happened over the course of about 90 minutes. I didn't go out with all the YPCG'ers (Youth Parent Care Groupers) and Akron kids Saturday handing out hot chocolate or going door-to-door giving out "Cabin fever survival packets." I didn't skip care group for the prayer and worship time Friday night that kicked off their "mission trip" here to serve our church. I watched Hitch with Daniel and Justin Saturday after setup at the Middle School, so I didn't get to hear the debrief from the day's outreach. I was 100% occupied with the music during the whole festival Sunday after church, and I didn't even sit with any of the kids from Akron Saturday night or tonight at Cici's. So I was feeling quite removed and outside the whole event. I didn't even go hang at the Pierson's after teardown this afternoon! I drove Daniel back home, unloaded the van-full of heavy music equipment, and flopped heavily into this chair to check some email, wondering why I was thinking of driving 45 minutes to Bridgeville to pay $5 for more pizza and more outsidefeelingness. But I went, thinking I was being a stubborn fool as I slipped and slid across the snow-caked roads in the brittle cold.

The pizza was good; I got to listen to Mr. Pierson and Bob talk about high-level stuff, and the Dr.Pepper was fine (though the ice was still lousy). During the debrief back at the presbyterian church I slowly began to see the sea of faces light up into hearts alive to God. Bob kept at the kids, finally whittling it down to calling out single words to describe the day, how they felt, what they saw in God, and what of God they wanted to take back home. He was fantastic at leading and prodding the group, and the picture began to fade in on the polaroid film in my head. Semi-sullen teen faces I'd seen swirling cotton candy out of a shivering machine or setting up pop bottle bowling pins in the IMS cafeteria were now talking about God--a God they had just seen and felt in action. Bob was ebullient at seemly every word the kids said. My cynical conclusions slowly began to change as I saw his genuine excitement and began to think about what was actually being said, and what it meant. Then we adjourned as churches to different rooms to write names down on our white stones (little reminders of eternity, based on the white stone God will give us at the end of this world with our own name on it). Mr. Pierson did it by having our group toss out "names" (and attending explanations) for each person in turn. Danielle wrote them all down, and we determined one for Katie to write on the stone (with her fine Calano handwriting and a fine fine-tipped Sharpie).

We started with Mr. Pierson, he picked me next, and then we proceeded around the circle, each turn lifting a veil off of a "kid" and showing the amazing and alive work of God underneath. Ah, how stupid am I to have such a veil in the first place! People like Mr. Pierson and Shannon see such good in others! But regardless, there were so many great traits and touching explanations brought up by every body in that room that I left packed full and overflowing with the work of God in this group of kids. To see how different acts affected people in peculiar ways, and how such acts and behaviors were internalized by others . . . it left me laughing at my penchant for feeling that things can't work without me :-) There's something behind this group and it's driving from below and inside, pushing out leadership and friendliness and kindness from shy, quiet, selfish 14-year-olds. I want to go to every YPCG meeting from now on! I want to keep seeing that work going on, so opposite my highly intelligent unbelief.

I want to remember how I feel right now. I want to remember that experience of singing worship songs when we readjourned -- not singing "Great is the Lord" because it was up on the screen, but because I was flat-out amazed at the ridiculous and impossible things He had just done! Maybe, maybe this is a touch of the taste of God that I've been crying out for. I just thought of that. It wasn't an inescapable burning of my soul in the solutide of the night, but it was real, and it surpassed the inveterate plains of this pedestrian life that have left me faithless and lifeless in so many ways.

It was great! I'm so glad I went! I want more of God! I want to see more of His working, and I want to see what He has around the next bend in the road.

I've waxed rather grandiose in language here, but there really was a fire of amazement when we left that room in the big ol' Westminster Presbyterian Church in Upper Saint Claire. I pretty much just grabbed Wes Taylor by the shoulders and vented my excitement at what God was doing in the group :-) It's exciting, and I'm just filled with love for Mr. Pierson, for the guys in the youth group, and I guess for the God who breathes sparkling life into all of these people.

It was also really cool tonight when we got home. I hung around and talked to the 3 guys who are staying here (Plus an adult, Marty, who went to bed shortly after catching up on ESPN :-) ), who had a lot of questions and comments about music and my gear. Once again, these bland teenagers came to life before me. It hurts to say it so forthrightly, but that's how evil and cynical my heart is. We talked about instruments, they wanted to go see my studio downstairs, and we carried on a great conversation over the plentiful snacks laid out on the counter. It was also remarkable because I think subtly I had their respect, since I'd been up jamming with Justin and Daniel all afternoon, hashing out sweet stuff (speaking objectively here) on electric guitar in front of a bunch of impressive amps and gear. It's so rare that I feel anything but coming-from-behind with [what I consider] my peers that it leaves a strong mark on my memory. It's not a particularly useful, accurate or Kingdom-advancing thing, but it was noteworthy. And revelatory: A) They're not bland teenagers. B) I actually am a bit older than highschoolers.

Last thing: One other aspect of amazement from the meeting. What do you think my name was? What do you think this self-absorbed, ghastly-judgmental, distracted, music-obsessed cynic was described as?

"Worshipper"

Two years ago (I think.. roughly) I stepped off the worship team because all I was doing was playing my instrument.




I MEAN LOOK AT IT!! Apparently even that stepping off had an effect on some people because of its supposed humility. Hah! Man, how God works to advance His will through the very sin-soaked actions of his foolish, belligerent people! How two years of deep sin and dryness can be to some a testimony of humility and worship! How we are CLOTHED with righteousness and REDEEMED from destruction and WASHED from sin and FORGIVEN of pride and COVERED with the shining radiance of God's very Son!

How great is our God.

--Clear Ambassador