WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Sometimes Kids Are the Adults in the Room

     There were some tense moments on my recent mission trip to Puerto Rico. Protesters lined the streets of San Juan where the planes landed whose job was to transport me on and off the island, an island whose citizens are proud to be called Americans. The protesters were upset at their governor for what ended up being obvious legitimate reasons. Add to that the presence of iguanas the size of small alligators meandering around. Plus an overflowing septic tank within ten steps of where we ate breakfast and supper at the abandoned elementary school where about 80 participants from five different churches and ten of us staffers took up residence for the week. A mother hen named Bertha lived on the school grounds and would attack anyone who came with fifteen feet of her six little chicks that followed her around all day long.
     But none of these were the source of the aforementioned tension. Ironically, our issues were within the five church groups and staffers who gathered to serve together. As the worship speaker for the week, I had the privilege each evening of sharing messages with the youth and their adult leaders at the nightly worship services, the first of which took place the day we arrived on a Saturday. Turns out I upset the apple cart before we even had a chance to curl up on our air mattresses for our first night in Puerto Rico.
     There were a number of theological, philosophical, and doctrinal differences among the church groups represented. I was quickly informed by some of those involved that my words had struck many a nerve. The next day at the church service in Juana Diaz, Puerto Rico, the local pastor struck additional nerves. Concerns were expressed, frustrations were vented, and battle lines were drawn. It was shaping up to be a long week. In fact, I'm pretty certain I witnessed a huddle of leaders from three of the groups contemplating leaving the mission project after less than 24 hours on the island. Perhaps they stayed mainly because there was no transportation back to the mainland other than their flights scheduled for six days later.
     I tried my best to stay clear of the fray and maintain cordiality and decency to all involved, but it was difficult because the content of my messages/sermons was one of the main sources of friction. I'll admit I withdrew a little and decided to give those who disagreed with me their space. Unfortunately, for a day or two I also did the same for some of the numerous youths involved, who made up the vast majority of the entire group. I withdrew mainly because I wasn't sure where I stood with them. After all, several of the teenage boys in one of the groups had mocked the worship leader while she was singing a praise song during one of the services early in the week. The tension was distracting and discouraging.
     On the first night I had told the group that God always shows up on these mission trips. There would be obstacles and struggles, I said, but the enemy has been defeated and God's purposes prevail. And prevail they would.
     A breakthrough of sorts occurred on the third night. I noticed that the youth from three of the churches were beginning to actively and sincerely participate in the singing of the praise songs, hardly any of which they had ever heard or sung before in their churches back home. Back at the school after the service on Monday night, the kids joined up to form an impromptu sing along in the central area where we were staying. It was incredible and inspirational. From a short distance away I noticed that kids from churches whose beliefs clashed were united in mind and spirit during those songs, which they sang fervently from the heart. The kids accomplished what we adults had failed to- they had achieved unity despite their differences.
     I wasn't the only one who was profoundly inspired. Things changed after that. We adults began to smile at each other and interact more. Battle lines became blurred and a truce of sorts emerged. Adults and youth alike attacked and tackled tasks on work sites during the day with a renewed passion to serve the people of Puerto Rico and the Lord we all worshiped. Roofs were repaired, unsafe buildings were torn down and foundations laid for new ones, and houses were built.
     By Thursday, the kids were excitedly asking me all day long what the theme for that night's message would be. At worship that night, the boys who had mocked the worship leader at the beginning of the week worked their way to the front and were raising their hands in praise and worship, singing at the top of their lungs. Kids of different races, backgrounds, and beliefs were locking arms in unity, swaying back and forth as they sang and worshiped. Adults unlocked their phones and began filming the miracle that was taking place before our very eyes. Somewhere in the distance, God was smiling. Actually He wasn't in the distance. He was in our midst. And it was obvious.
     Ephesians 4:12-13 talks about works of service and building the body of Christ until we all reach unity of faith and maturity, so that we can attain the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. At Mission Serve Puerto Rico 2019, the youths led the league in maturity and paved the way for the unity of the entire group of 90 participants, adults included.
     As I watched this group of kids bellow out the words to the contemporary Christian song "This is Amazing Grace" on the final night of worship, I couldn't help but think how often we "oldies" bash the younger generation unfairly. I've said it before in these writings and I will certainly say it again- I am extremely optimistic and confident about the youth of today. They will carry the torch of faith and pass it along to the next generation, thus advancing God's Kingdom into the future. It's not their fault they all have cellphones. It's not their fault they've received trophies every time they so much as signed up for a recreation league team. It's not their fault they have all the information they need at their fingertips instead of having to darken the doors of a library to do their research. Our generation created all that and exposed them to it.
     I've often heard it said when there is conflict and strife that someone needs to step up and be the adult in the room. On my recent mission trip to Puerto Rico, the kids accepted that challenge. And they didn't just step up, they jumped for joy.

   

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Their Home, Not Mine

     Despite the fact that he startled me, I quickly recovered, got my wits about me, and stared him straight in the eyes. "Look here," I began dramatically, "You need to move on. I've got no problem with you and I don't want to have to use this weapon but I durn sure will." (My youngest son and I were talking about the word "durn" the other day. I explained that I'm not exactly sure where it came from and how it originated, but I know I heard it growing up so it must be a traditional replacement curse word of some sort. But I digress).
     After threatening my nemesis with the whole "durn sure will" proclamation, I engaged him in a tense standoff for a few seconds as our eyes locked. Eventually, the beaver I had encountered down at the river where I occasionally go catfishing at night decided to ease on down the road, or rather the river. As he swam away, I proclaimed loud enough for him to hear, "I have no beef with you Beaver Cleaver. I realize this is your home, not mine." He refused to turn his head even slightly to acknowledge the truce.
     When you're waist deep in a flowing river as you attempt to work your way against the current, anything near you can be unsettling, especially when it's dark. My headlamp and waders are helpful, but the whole scene can be a little spooky at times, especially when you hear something slip from the bank into the river near you, which happens with regularity.
     At the river near my home, I have encountered the aforementioned beavers, as well as otters (all named Oscar), snakes, noisy raccoons (all named Ricky), obnoxious swooping bats, cranes, and on one occasion, a bobcat. I carry with me on my fishing adventures one of those machetes humans use to chop weeds and small limbs, but I hope I don't ever have to use it for anything more than clearing some occasional brush blocking my path to the river. However, I have removed it from its sheath and flashed it at some of the creatures mentioned above, if only to remind them that I am willing and prepared to defend myself. I swung it wildly at a bat once and I'm quite certain I heard him laugh.
     On the night of the beaver vs. human standoff, I continued on up the river to test out a different spot after my encounter with Cleaver. The catfish weren't terribly hungry that night but I gave them an hour or so to decide. At one point during one of the many lulls between bites, I suddenly noticed how loud the cricket shouts were that night. "Wow," I said out loud, "I hadn't even noticed how wonderful y'all sounded tonight." (Yes, I talk to myself and to undomesticated members of the animal kingdom. I'm not sure why, but I'm going to keep on doing it even if kind and decent folks deem me to be crazy).
     Funny how that works. I became immune to the loudest noise in the nearby woods to the point where I could no longer hear it anymore. Some people are annoyed by the cricket sounds, but I think they make beautiful music, especially when you're down on the river at night by yourself with the cares of the world tucked safely away for a few hours.
     God was telling me loud and clear that He was present. The crickets sang louder than ever, Cleaver had made an appearance, a small snake had scurried away when I approached the partially submerged limb he was dangling on, and the few catfish who tugged on my line were feasting on stolen worms in the murky water near me. It was a God moment for someone who loves the outdoors.
     But alas, I almost missed it. Mainly because I wasn't listening. My ears weren't open. My heart wasn't in tune with what God was revealing to me. I was too worried about the predators and the frustration of the fish not biting to appreciate the heavenly sounds all around me.
     Psalm 46:10 says "Be still and know that I am God." What with cellphones, laptops, televisions, and ipods blaring at us, and Alexa and Siri yapping at people all the time, and dishwashers, ovens, microwaves, and GPS's barking out commands, it's no wonder we miss out on what God is trying to tell us in a soft, gentle whisper. Our internet and cable television went out recently and during those quiet moments in the living room, I actually heard a bird chirping outside.
     I enjoyed the sounds of the crickets that moonless night at the river as long as I possibly could until my curfew beckoned me homeward. As I moved through the murky, dark water back down the stream, I could sense I had an escort. Turns out I was right. Two or three times Beaver Cleaver thought it would be amusing to slap his tail on top of the water near me to remind me that I was on his turf. The sound of a beaver slapping the water is roughly comparable to an NFL lineman doing a belly flop off the high dive, which is particularly unsettling in the dark.
     "I know, I know," I said to Cleaver, "This is your spot and I'm making you nervous, but I'm headed home now." To which he replied, "No worries, my friend, you're always welcome here.
But next time how 'bout you leave the machete in your garage. We would all respect and appreciate you more if you didn't wave that thing around in the air at us like some sort of nincompoop." . . .  Well played, my little furry wet friend, well played.