YMJen

I’ve often wondered why, if Jesus told his disciples in Mark 10:14 to “Let the little children come to me, do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs,” that so many churches today don’t invite little children to worship with their parents in the main, adult worship service.

I feel fortunate that the church I grew up in was not one of those churches and that week after week, I had the privilege of worshiping with my parents. Though I vividly remember reading books during the sermons, I also remember being in awe of the sanctuary and its beauty: the giant cross behind the beautiful wooden alter and the stained glass windows that surrounded the entire room, each telling a different Bible story. I also remember singing the hymns. I didn’t always understand their meaning, but I learned to love them anyway. On special occasions I also remember having my Grandma and Aunt join our family in worship and loving the fact that we all got to be in that place – a place that was already incredibly special to me – together.

As I grew older and began understanding more, because the value of worship was already ingrained in me, I quickly enjoyed being a part of the service by serving as an acolyte, lector, and occasionally being asked to play a piano piece as a special musical offering.

Because the Methodists have an open communion table, I took communion from a very early age. At first, I didn’t understand the significance of this act, but I still remember feeling like it was a big deal for me to be able to take part in it. Somehow, I intrinsically understood that the act itself was important and holy. Perhaps it’s because of the way I was welcomed at the table from such a young age that when I then got to serve communion to the guests at my wedding, it had such a deep significance to me.

Because I recognize the role that worshiping as a child with my parents had in my spiritual formation, it excites me to be part of a church that also honors and invites children to worship.

In fact, each of the last two weeks we’ve had special “Faith Stepping Stones” to help families and the church reaffirm the commitments they made at their child’s baptism. The first week, our church gave story Bibles to the three and four-year-olds. Last week, five-year-olds participated in the “Welcome to Worship” stepping stone and received a copy of “Boots the Church Camp” and a special invitation to tour & learn about the sanctuary.

In both cases, after the Bibles and books were handed out and the families prayed for, chaos ensued as lots of kids ran back to their seats, their parents frantically in pursuit. Even after parents wrangled their children back into their seats, their excited voices just could not be contained.

It was beautiful.

And such a reminder that Christ also told his disciples, “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”

May we, like these three, four, and five year olds never lose this uncontainable excitement about Jesus and our faith.

If you were to take a poll of youth workers in the United States and ask them, “Who is the most influential youth worker in America today?” I think the overwhelming response would be Doug Fields, the Pastor to Students at Saddleback in California and author of the book Purpose Driven Youth Ministry.

Like many of my colleagues in youth ministry, I was surprised at Doug’s resignation from Saddleback this week and in particular at one comment from Pastor Rick Warren regarding Doug’s resignation: “When the beautiful Refinery was finished, I knew that Doug felt this was the capstone of the most successful youth ministry in America.”

Though I have no doubt that Pastor Warren meant this as a compliment to a friend and a colleague, to me it seemed to short-change the far reaching impact that Doug has had in the youth ministry world – An impact that I know well because of the role Doug has played in my own life.

As a rookie youth pastor, one of my youth ministry mentors, Tony Jones, gave me a copy of “Purpose Driven Youth Ministry” and said it was the first book that I needed to read. The book encouraged me, challenged me, and helped me structure my first youth ministry. Doug’s resources through his company, Simply Youth Ministry, and his constant mantra to “Take my name off and put your name on” helped me to train my leaders and ensure that on weeks when I didn’t have time to create my own resources, I would still have a quality lesson to use with my teens.

Doug’s 2nd book, “Your First Two Years in Ministry” and his seminar of the same name is a major reason why I survived my first two years in ministry and am now entering my eighth year in ministry. I read it as I was transitioning from my first call into my second, a particularly dark time in my faith journey.

Beyond that, hearing Doug speak at the Purpose Driven Youth Ministry Conference & countless National Youth Workers Conventions never failed to simultaneously equip, encourage, and challenge me. In particular, his constant reminders that no one ever wins in the comparison game and that in ministry, people matter more than programs have become ingrained in my own youth ministry philosophy.

This year, his book “Help! I’m a Student Leader!” has enabled me to challenge and equip my student leaders for ministry.

Though I’ve never so much as had a one on one conversation with Doug, through his books and seminars, he has served as a very influential mentor to me.

I can only hope that at the end of my career in youth ministry, I will have had a fraction of the impact that Doug has had on youth and other leaders. If I can do that, I will have done my job well.

For a long time, I’ve joked with my husband, Doug, about how he lucked out marrying someone who really does not enjoy shopping.

That said, I confess I have a weakness: The clearance rack at Kohl’s and REI. I can’t enter either of these stores without scouring the clearance rack for great bargains. Once I find one, if it fits, its very difficult for me to resist purchasing my newfound treasure – regardless of whether or not I actually need it.

Then last week, I read a chapter in Rob Bell’s “Jesus Wants to Save Christians” in which he said, “When the fundamental awareness is lost that this is all a gift, luxuries can begin to seem like necessities. Excess can become normal.”

This got me thinking: In what areas of my life has excess become normal?

On the one hand, it’s pretty easy for me to pat myself on the back for the ways that I don’t live with excess in my life. For example: My tiny, 1000 square foot house is certainly not excessive and for four years, Doug & I actually survived with only one car. We now have two, but they’re certainly not “excessive” cars. They’re reasonable, environmentally friendly cars.

But then I think about the fact that even though there’s only two of us, our house has two floors, which means that when we want to, we can completely isolate ourselves from each other by each “living” on our own floor. Then I think about how even though there’s only two of us, we own three working computers. Then I look at the rows and rows of books in my office. Certainly things that I love, but also excess. Then I think again about my clothes and the fact that I have to pack a season’s worth of clothes away in tubs because they won’t fit in my closet all at once. Then I think about the two garbage bags full of clothes that I’m donating to charity next week. Then I think about the 25 t-shirts sitting in my office that rather than wear, I’d like to have made into a t-shirt quilt. Then I think about the quilts that I already have, and the fact that even though there are only two beds in my house, I own 11 sets of sheets. Then I think about my tubs of scrapbooking materials and the fact that Doug has three RC airplanes, even though he can only fly one at a time. Then I think about the four complete sets of dishes that I own. Worse yet, I think about the amount of food Doug & I waste in any given week.

Still worse is the fact that even though I’ve diagnosed the problem, I’m not sure what to do about it other than to say that I think it begins with me literally taking inventory and realizing that given the fact that I already have 76 shirts in my closet, I need not by another one – no matter how great the bargain. As I inventory things, I think I’ll learn to be grateful for all that I have while while also discovering things I don’t need, or have too many of. My plan is to donate those things to people who need them, something that may help others and that will also help me to declutter my life – both physically and spiritually.

I hope the end result is that I’ll be able to live more simply…

And more Christ-like.

In the last 3 years or so, my husband and I have noticed a trend: We’ll befriend a couple who we really get along with, share interests, and genuinely enjoy being with. Before long, the other couple gets pregnant. Nine months later, the baby arrives and our friendship ends. Not because we ever officially declare our friendship over, but simply because our lives suddenly become very different and the commonalities we once shared, though still important to us, become irrelevant to them as their lives become all baby, all the time.

Such a recurring trend has led me to ponder:

Is this the way it’s supposed to be? Is this normal or am I just a bad friend? Is it possible for people to have a baby and yet still care about non baby things? Is it possible for those of us without kids to relate to those who have kids?

These questions have been especially nagging to me because recently, two of the couples in our small group became pregnant. While my friendships with these two couples are much deeper than mine have been with any of the other people we’ve experienced this trend with, I am still concerned that the trend will repeat itself, something that would be truly heartbreaking for me.

Then last week, I heard someone I really look up to speak about the importance of raising one another’s kids, hearkening back to the old saying that “It takes a village to raise a child.”

Truthfully, I find it difficult to wrap my head around this concept because I reside in a busy, extremely mobile, disconnected Chicago suburb and few of my friends actually live anywhere near me. Given this, I truly cannot comprehend the idea of a “village” who knows each other well enough to raise each other’s kids.

For example, consider my neighborhood, where I’ve lived for five years. I live in a townhouse, so my neighbors are extremely close in proximity to me. Yet of the four who are closest geographically to me, I don’t even know the names of one family; The only thing that I can tell you about the second is that he’s a drunk; and I only know the names of the third family because I accidentally backed my car into theirs. It’s only with the fourth neighbor that we have a somewhat “neighborly” relationship, where we shovel one another’s driveways and help each other out.

That’s why I was intrigued by this speaker’s comment reasserting the importance of raising one another’s kids. In particular, he pointed to two things – the need for empty nesters to realize that they still have more kids to raise and the need for small groups to raise one another’s kids.

It’s this last part that got me thinking about my small group, which consists of 4 couples. As soon as our friends shared their pregnancies with us, though happy for them, I’ll admit I was a bit saddened because not only do I fear the continuation of this trend of disappearing friendships, but I also fear that without these two couples, our small group will fold. But what if it doesn’t have to? What if our small group can continue to grow and flourish and to embrace these new arrivals as part of our small group? What if I could see my friend’s children as being not just their responsibility but mine as well?

I think doing so starts with the recognition that family is larger than those who inhabit our house. Even though I won’t be family in the traditional sense, I’d like to still think I have a vested interest in these babies because I love their parents. Eventually, I’d like very much to be the “cool aunt” who the kid goes to when they can’t talk with their parents about something.

Raising one another’s kids also means that I have a responsibility to continue investing my time and energy into my friends. It means that I need to encourage them in their new roles as parents in whatever ways I can – by listening to them share the joys and frustrations of parenting; By changing the occasional diaper; Or by babysitting in order to give them an occasional night off. It also means that my friends have to give me the opportunity to help raise their kids, by not letting their kids become an excuse to disappear.

Specifically in the context of small groups, I think this means that our small group has to find a way to be accessible to growing families. Perhaps this means meeting earlier in the day, on a weekend, in different locations, or for shorter times. While the babies are truly babies, I hope their parents will just bring them to our small group. Eventually, as they start to walk and talk, because I believe that there is value in meeting together as couples and families, I hope our small group can agree to invest in a babysitter during our small group – someone who comes to the house where we’re meeting and watches everyone’s kids at the same time, who everyone (those with and those without kids) chips in to pay for. Though seemingly insignificant, I think this small monetary investment is a powerful statement about the shared cost that comes with raising one another’s kids.

And I do realize that raising each other’s kids is likely a costly venture: Monetarily, Emotionally, and Relationally.

But I’ve also heard people lament about the loneliness of parenting. Perhaps by raising each other’s kids, that doesn’t have to be the case.

Regardless, I can’t help but think how blessed a child would be to have so many people committed to raising her: Parents, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and Friends. That’s a blessing that I hope one day, my own kids will also get to experience.

During the past month, I’ve been inching my way through Scot McKnight’s “The Blue Parakeet: Rethinking How You Read the Bible,” a book which I definitely recommend.

One of the things that Scot talks about in this book is outcome based education, about which he says, “Outcome-based education means we ask this question as we prepare & teach: ‘What do we want our students to be & to be able to do at the end of this course, this major, & this degree?’”

Though I certainly don’t teach in an academic setting, I do have the privilege of teaching the youth in my ministry & so this week, I’ve been thinking about how this idea applies to my ministry setting. On any given week, as I prepare to teach – whether in a small group discussion setting, through a service event & the processing that follows, or through a talk I give or a teaching experience I design, I honestly spend a fair amount of time thinking about what I want my youth to gain from that experience, about what my desired outcome for them is. Sometimes it’s as simple as wanting to expose my teens to Scripture. At other times, I want them to leave with a question about a specific story or idea that will cause them to continue wrestling with it throughout the week. At other times, I actually want them to leave knowing something concrete about Jesus, God’s character, or theology.

While all of that’s good, it seems somewhat short-sighted to me. So as I’ve been toying with this idea this week, I’ve also begun thinking about what my desired long-term outcomes are for those teens in my ministry.

By the end of four years in my ministry, I want my youth

- To have a relationship with Christ.

- To “own” their faith. I want for their faith to be theirs, and not mine, or that of their parents, or even that of our church. I want my youth to leave confident in their faith so that they can withstand the hurdles that other people will intentionally and unintentionally throw at it.

- To be unafraid of questions and doubts.

- To understand “imago dei” theology & treat others with the dignity & respect that comes from knowing they’re created in God’s image.

- To appreciate other Christian denominations, viewing them not as our competition or enemies but rather as our brothers & sisters in Christ. I want my youth to understand that we can learn from the different beliefs, worship styles, and traditions that exist in Christian denominations.

- To understand their role in the Body of Christ and to know that even as youth and young adults, they’re not just the future of the church, they ARE the church.

- To understand the importance of intergenerational community within the Body of Christ and to know, have relationships with, and value the Saints in our faith community.

- To be connected to a faith-based community that loves, supports, and guides them in their faith.

- To be committed to the local church and to know how to be a part of it – not just by attending it, but by serving it.

- To be connected to a non-parental, caring adult who has mentored them in their faith.

- To have discovered their gifts and understand how to use them to glorify & honor God.

- To be committed to living out their faith by serving others – not just during a week long summer mission trip, but wherever they are throughout their daily lives and in their own communities.

- To know how to advocate on behalf of the least of these.

- To know how to listen to others.

- To be Biblically literate and to have an understanding of the Bible as a story, not just as a rule book, science book, or encyclopedia.

- To understand the basic theology of their faith.

- To appreciate creation and know how to be a good steward of it.

- To be a critic of the cultural around them and yet to be unafraid of that culture and willing to contribute to it by creating their own art.

- To understand how their faith influences their perception of current events & vice versa.

- To understand that their faith is a journey, not a destination and that as such, it will always be evolving and growing.

These desired outcomes are very different than those I would have listed when I began ministry 7 years ago, something that also makes me wonder how they’ll continue to evolve as I change, as my faith grows and expands, and as the youth around me change. I also realize that the vast majority of these desired outcomes are difficult to measure and even more difficult to program – at least the way most of us currently do youth ministry. Yet, I think it’s worth experimenting with new, creative, experiential, intergenerational approaches to youth ministry in order to achieve these things.

After all, they represent not just the desired outcomes I have for my youth, but also those that I have for my own faith experience.

This year, for the first time since September 11, I woke up on September 11 unaware of the date and not thinking about the tragedy that occurred 8 years ago. It wasn’t until I was about half way through the day that I logged onto Facebook and saw status after status commenting on September 11 that the significance of the date struck me and I began to remember.

I remember where I was when I heard the news 8 years ago. I had just finished one of my ECE classes @ the U of I and was coming out of Everett. As I did, I walked past the teacher’s lounge and remember thinking that it was strange to see so many professors crammed in there. Then I went to wait for my bus and was stopped by one of my friends who informed me, “Our country is being attacked.” With no other news, I went back to my dorm room, turned on the TV and tearfully watched the events unfold.

Before long, I called my mom. On that day, the need to connect with those I loved was so incredibly strong.

For the rest of the morning, I sat in my dorm room, dazed, confused, and in tears.

Eventually, I left to go to one of my lab classes, where I learned that my partner’s dad had been at the Pentagon that day and they still had not heard from him. (Thankfully, he turned out to be fine.)

After that, I went to the Christian Campus House and watched the Towers collapse. That night, Doug & I joined with hundreds of other students on the quad for a candlelight vigil. The need to be together with other people that night was so strong.

In the days that followed, I remember feeling afraid – even though I was miles away from the terrorist attacks and largely unaffected by them. I also remember praying that President Bush and others would NOT respond too hastily and begin attacking people in order to seek revenge for what had happened to us. Eventually, I remember longing for normalcy to return. I remember being so relieved when baseball games and regular TV programming resumed because it felt like the first step toward healing.

The next year, on the first anniversary of 9-11, I remember being riveted to the TV, watching hours of the coverage of the Memorial Ceremonies, almost entranced by them.

Each year since then, though, I must admit that despite hearing people say “We must never forget”, remembering 9-11 has become much harder to do, something that seems to be the case for many in our country. For example, this year, remembering 9-11 was the 2nd story rather than the top one on Chicago’s nightly news. Apparently, Michelle Obama’s trip to the IOC to lobby for Chicago to get the 2016 Olympics is much more important than 9-11.

All this has left me pondering the question, how then should we remember 9-11? And how can we teach today’s youth to remember 9-11? Answering this question is becoming increasingly difficult because of the age of our youth. Today’s Jr. High Youth were only 4-6 years old when September 11 happened so unlike us, they don’t have the vivid recollections of that day; They don’t personally understand the fear associated with that time. And despite the fact that we’re currently fighting wars on two fronts as a result of September 11, because the average family has had to sacrifice little for these wars, even that has little impact on our youth today.

While I don’t claim to have all of this figured out, here are a few of the things that I’m hoping to do this year in order to help the kids I work with understand the significance of September 11:

- I’m going to find ways to share my own memories of September 11 with my kids and give them the opportunity to talk about it as well, in whatever capacity they can.

- I’m going to find an opportunity to show them “Taking Chance,” a movie that Doug & I saw this weekend. This movie told the story of the journey home for a marine killed in action in Iraq. It was a fascinating, well-done, heart-wrenching tale of sacrifice that does little to glorify war and much to show the reality of war (while still respecting & honoring those who serve in the armed forces.)

- Every time our youth gather, I’m going to begin praying for those in the military on our church prayer list.

- I’m going to find a service project in which we can do something to support our troops.

- During one of our regular Tuesday night gatherings, we’re going to discuss war. I’m going to bring in one or two older veterans and give our youth the opportunity to hear their stories and ask them questions. Afterwords, we’re going to debate the idea of just war.

Through this, I hope to help my youth understand the significance of September 11, the reality of war, and the fact that their faith impacts their understanding and opinion of war.

That said, let me hear from you. Where were you on September 11? How do you think we should help today’s youth remember & understand the significance of September 11?

Like many others around the country, on Wednesday night, I watched President Obama’s address to Congress regarding health care with interest.

For our entire married life, which equals our entire adult life, Doug & I have always had insurance through his work. While at Shure, we got used to the fact that every year, our insurance changed according to who the company could get the best rates from. Then in 2007, Doug was laid off from Shure and the real fun began. We spent the next several months on Cobra insurance until Doug found a permanent employer at 8th Light, a small start up company that at the time, employed only 5 people.

Initially, insurance at 8th Light was something we didn’t give much thought to. That changed last year when the company decided they should be able to get a cheaper rate than what they had been paying due to the age and overall health of the people they employ.

After much research, the decision was made that each 8th Light employee would obtain their own insurance policy and that 8th Light would then kick in half the money. The idea was that in the long run, this would save everyone – the company & individuals – money.

Though it was a nice thought, in reality, the stress of having to find our own health insurance was huge. Considering Doug & I are both healthy, I cannot even begin to imagine what this process would be like for anyone that has had any major medical problems in their history. In the past 5 years, Doug has had two incidents – one that landed him in the emergency room and one that caused a doctor to run a routine test on him. But because of these incidents, someone from the insurance company called and interrogated him about both before granting us insurance. For me, the bigger concern was maternity coverage. In order to be fully covered by an insurance company on an individual policy, you have to have had that policy for 1 year before getting pregnant. This just seems absurd to me! I mean, even with the best of planning, sometimes pregnancies happen. And then what? The insurance won’t cover you because you haven’t had the policy long enough?

Despite our reservations, eventually we settled on an individual policy that had a pretty high deductible and utilized a health savings account, an idea which we have come to really like.

Shortly thereafter, though, we learned that because the policies were technically individual, 8th Light could not legally contribute to them. As a result, we were left paying for our insurance entirely on our own for several months before 8th Light worked out a solution and got us back on a group policy, though now the group is limited only to 8th Light employees and their families. At the time, everyone breathed a deep sigh of relief, but since then, several people in the company have had major medical problems, leaving us to wonder: What will happen when it’s time to renegotiate our rates? Will the premiums drastically increase? And if so, then what?

This experience with insurance has left me convinced that our system does, in fact, need to be reformed, though I am still unsure how.

What I do know is this: I believe that health care is a human right, especially in a country as wealthy as ours. It is truly an injustice that so many people lack health insurance and therefore access to quality health care in our country.

I was struck by the fact that during the coverage leading up to the President’s address, one of the statistics that was given is that 90% of the Americans who vote have health insurance. If that statistic is truly accurate, than who among is looking out for those who do not have health insurance? As Rob Bell says in his book, “Jesus Wants to Save Christians,” “If you have power, it can be hard to understand the voice of those who have no power. If you have choices, options, or luxuries, it can be hard to fathom the anger of those who don’t.”

For that reason, I applaud the courage of President Obama, Senator Kennedy, and others who have and are fighting this issue with such strength and passion. My hope and prayer is that they will succeed in reforming our health care system and in providing security and stability to those with health insurance and an option for those who lack it. In the meantime, I also pray that neither I nor anyone I love gets sick.

Since July, Doug & I have been feeding a stray cat. Since I’m a cat person who routinely feels bad for homeless kitties, this really isn’t all that unusual for us.

The problem is that little by little I began to love this “outdoor kitty” and began begging Doug to allow us to adopt him. Like the persistent widow in Scripture, I continued pestering Doug until he finally relented last Friday (on my birthday) & agreed to make “outdoor kitty” our new indoor kitty.

I promptly put “outdoor kitty” in the garage and made an appointment for later in the day to have him checked out at the vet. Being a relatively knowledgeable cat owner, I asked the vet to run a feline leukemia test before doing anything else.

Despite requesting this test, I never imagined that it would come back positive, which it did.

Feline leukemia really is a misnomer, as it more greatly resembles AIDS than cancer. Like AIDS, it’s a virus that’s transmitted via body fluids: saliva, urine, etc. Though the virus can’t survive long outside of a cat’s body, it’s highly contagious between cats who have direct contact with one another. Because we already have a healthy indoor cat, there’s no way that we can adopt “outdoor kitty” without risking the health of indoor kitty (aka Franklin).

Not knowing what else to do, I brought “outdoor kitty” home & sat with him in the garage, crying as this extremely lovable and affectionate cat planted himself in my lap, purring constantly.

Over the subsequent days, Doug & I called several local, no kill shelters. While some were extremely helpful and even sympathetic, none could provide us with a solution for what to do with “outdoor kitty”. Even those with specific feline leukemia rooms were full.

For eight days, outdoor kitty happily lived in our garage, or at least it seemed that way to us. During that time, we debated bringing him inside and creating a place for him to live on our 2nd floor, completely isolated from Franklin. All the while, I wrestled with my own feelings, unsure of how willing I was to grow even more attached to a cat expected to live no longer than 2 years. Doug said it would be noble to care for this cat in its dying days, but frankly, I’m not sure I’m that noble.

Sunday morning the decision was taken out of our hands when Doug opened the garage door and “outdoor kitty” made a run for it. In the 8 days that he lived in our garage, “outdoor kitty” occasionally ventured outside but always returned, seemingly eager for the warmth, safety, and food found in the garage. But for whatever reason, on Sunday, outdoor kitty left and spent the night outdoors. As we grilled last night, we saw him run by, a live chipmunk in his mouth.

Then last night, as I relaxed on the couch, I heard a ruckus outside and turned to find “outdoor kitty” lunging for the garage door, perhaps trying to get inside. I went outside & let him back into the garage. This morning, I went outside & sat with him for a while & then opened the garage door to see what he would do. He walked outside, looking around, & came prancing back in. So I gave him more food & water, shut the door, & left for work.

It seems that now I’m back where I started, with outdoor kitty living in my garage and with me unsure what to do next. Perhaps he’ll continue to reside in the garage. Or maybe it’ll just be a safe place for him to crash at night, protected from all the terrors of outdoor living.

Regardless, I’ll keep loving him, even as I search for a more permanent solution.

It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do for right now. And maybe that’s not so bad.

Today marks the start of my 8th year in youth ministry, and the start of my 2nd year at Faith. What a journey it has been!

Last year, when I began my ministry at Faith, I was cocky and pretty sure of myself and my approach to youth ministry. So sure, in fact, that despite telling myself that I would “start slow”, I really didn’t. Granted, I didn’t go as fast as I could have, but I also never really stopped to contextualize my philosophy of ministry to this particular setting.

As a result, the last year has been a rocky road.

Yet, today as I gear up for the start of another programming year, I find myself cautiously optimistic about the year ahead and about my relationships with these kids, which I think have been strengthened by the battles we’ve already weathered together.

Our “core” program, FLY Nights, will look very different this year than last, and very different from my youth ministry at my previous church, from what I imagined my ministry would be here, and even from what my ideal “vision” for ministry is.

Perhaps, though, that’s not a bad thing.

What I’ve discovered in this process is that my definition of ministry is much bigger than it was a year ago, and I’ve found that the God I worship is also much bigger than I imagined him to be a year ago.

Because of that, as I prepare for our 1st FLY Night of the year, I’m finding that I’m daring to hope and dream about ministry again.

In the words of Paul, “We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5)