Robyn

Have I ever told you why I became a children’s worker? Why working with kids on the fringes became my passion?

It was my first summer working at a camp…12 years ago this June.  I ventured out halfway across Canada with my sisters and cousin as we dared to try something new and find out what really was so great about giving up our whole summer to live and work on camp.

There were a great many experiences that summer and I cherish a lot that I learnt and the people that I met. But one memory sticks out….one moment and conversation with a child…her name was Robyn.

She’d be struggling for the first few days, causing a few difficulties, and eventually I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk and have a jump on the trampoline as she wasn’t doing well with whatever program they were meant to be at that moment. As she jumped on the trampoline, the 17 year old version of myself actually had the wisdom to ask all the right questions. Eventually Robyn just spilled it all.

Turned out she hated herself, as with having short hair and being a bit of a tomboy, she always got mistaken for a boy. She was also living in a really bad environment, got abused regularly and had gone through some horrific abuse that at that point in my life, I couldn’t fathom any little girl could be put through. I think I may have very well been the first person to look her in the eye, tell her she was worth something and that she in fact didn’t deserve anything she had been through. The conversation ended with me promising to send her a postcard from Toronto when I went home at the end of the summer, as she had never received a postcard before.

I remember being surprised at how well I had done in the conversation with Robyn and how I had been able to keep my emotions in check despite how shocked I had been by what she had shared with me. Later that night, after all the kids had gone to sleep, I remember sharing what had happened with the head cabin leader. When she asked if I was okay and gave me a hug, I began to sob uncontrollably into her shoulder. She told me that these things are never easy to hear for the first time…but that we should never become so used to hearing them that we forget how horrible and unfair the injustice of all of it is.

I have met literally hundreds of kids that I have come along side, had conversations with, and journeyed with for both short and longer periods of time, since this conversation 12 years ago. But that was the moment that I knew God had called me to work with the Robyn’s of this world…to come along side and be a voice to the children who no one was listening to and to do everything I could to make their lives safe.

I did send a postcard to Robyn when I got home to Toronto that summer, but the address I was given to write to couldn’t be completely guaranteed that that’s where she was still living. I mailed it anyways.  I guess more then anything, it was a symbolic gesture asking that wherever this little girl ended up, I was going to have to trust that God would have her back.

So…I suppose these things are supposed to end with a morale or a lesson of some sort.  I guess it’s just this…sometimes serving just flat out sucks. Helping isn’t easy…giving to others hurts, and will always cost something from us in return.

But it definitely helps to remember the why.

Protector

I am a protector.

This is not a self appointed title, but one that has given to me. However, upon reflection of my life and memories I have accepted that it is in fact part of who I am.

I can remember going on an excursion/field trip in primary school and we took the subway/train. I spent the entire time while we were waiting for the subway to arrive, making sure my classmates and peers were lined up against the wall, far away from the yellow line near the edge of the platform, and thinking to myself how silly the teachers were to take kids on the subway. This wasn’t out of a need to be in control, but rather a need to protect them from the danger that being in a subway presented.

I can remember being 8 or 9, bundled up in a snow suit, out in the school yard during recess. I didn’t always get along with her, and we didn’t become best friends until high school, but someone was picking on my cousin. I’m pretty sure they had smashed her snow fort or something similar. I gathered up my courage and began the one and only attempt at a physical fight that I’ve ever undertook. I told the bully off and maybe pushed her once or twice, having no idea how to begin such brawls...but it all ended as quickly as it had started with it getting broken up by a teacher. I may not have got along with her then, but I still felt it was my job to protect my cousin from school yard bullies.

I can remember being maybe 12 or 13 and my little brother was really sick with the flu. I slept on the floor by his bed, getting up throughout the night to check his temperature and to wet the cloth that was on his forehead. I’m sure he would’ve survived that night had I not been there watching him, but I was compelled to sit by his side and to make sure that he was protected by his big sister.

I can remember being 21 and taking a group of fellow leaders during a weekend off at camp one summer to go and get piercings done...being the responsible head cabin leader that I was. The last person to get something done was my sister, who I went in with. The guy took too long piercing her ear, and she went pale and fainted. I remember helping her lay down and saying “breathe, just breathe” trying my best to stay calm. She recovered moments later, but I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the porch of my cabin while she slept in my bed, making sure she was protected from any further harm.

I can remember one very cold Friday night, not long before I moved out to Australia, going to down town Toronto with Sharon, where we looked for people who were sitting on the street who could use something to eat and some company. Sharon with her beautiful soul can instantly strike up conversation with anyone, and did so with agentleman who was sitting on the frozen sidewalk. I don’t remember if I was standing or sitting...if I had even said anything...but this man looked at me and said, “are you her protector?” Sharon was the conversation, and I was the protector, making sure she didn’t come to any harm.

I am a protector. In the realization of what that means, it helps me understand how hard it was to leave my family, most especially my siblings, to move to Australia. If I spend too long thinking about where they are, what they’re doing, and what they could possibly need protection from...I go a little crazy. I feel sad because I miss them desperately, but I also feel without control as they are now beyond any hope I have to protect them and keep them from whatever harm might come their way.

My second year in Australia, I tried to fully rely on God for the protection of my family. I even had specific prayers for members of my family as to what I wanted them protected from. I remember getting the news that there had been an accident. Even before I knew all the details, all I could do was yell at God “I told you to protect her!” I hadn’t been there to protect my sister and those with her, and all I could see was that neither had God.

It’s now 6 years since I’ve moved to Australia...and I still can’t dwell too long on the specifics of what my family members might be doing...because I still miss them, but also because I still worry about being too far away to be the protector.

Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest sibling...or perhaps it’s because have an innate desire within my personality to be in control. It’s probably both. Regardless, isn’t acknowledgement the first step to recovery?

I don’t think being a protector is necessarily a bad thing. I would like to think it’s what drives me to be an advocate as a children’s worker in areas and communities that are in need of more protectors. I would also like to think it’ll make me a really good mother one day...although I pray not one that is OVER-protective.

But the downside? Worry. Stress. Needing to feel in control. Feeling that if I’m not there to protect them, who is? The constant test of the size and strength of my faith in God as I wrestle to relinquish control back to Him.

It’s a daily struggle to remind myself that I may be A protector...but I am in fact not THE protector. But really, what a relief it is to acknowledge that truth. That in fact, it isn’t me that keeps those I love safe and from harm...because in reality, there are a great many things in this world that are beyond the protection that a human hand can give. It doesn’t all make sense...and as long as we’re on this world it isn’t going to (my plug for my love of Ecclesiastes here in helping us to see the absurdity of this world) but how much more will I actually enjoy life if I can leave the protecting up to the one who not only loves the ones that I love, but created them too?

I am a protector. It’s part of who I am. But I am also a believer in a sovereign God who will one day make sense of this fallen and broken world. And to that truth, I will do my very best to continue to (daily) relinquish control.

Thanksgiving

For the first time in a few years, I actually shared a Thanksgiving meal, which included turkey, cranberries and pumpkin pie!

Stealing the fabulous idea from my sister, I'm going to make a list of things I'm thankful for (in no particular order), since I got to feel the thanksgiving vibe over this past weekend despite being so far from Canada!

1. Matt

2. Siblings that are not just related to me, they are also my best friends.

3. Parents who continue to love me for exactly who I am

4. The hippee commune that I grew up in

5. God's sovereignty and provision

6. Technology - because it makes family & friends seem much closer then they really are

7. The Atkins Family

8. Earl Grey Tea

9. Sunsets

10. Good advice

11. Popcorn

12. Children

13. Photographs

14. Gum Trees

15. Loud music

16. Good conversations

17. Massages

18. People who say "how are you?" and mean it

19. Family meals

20. Airplanes

21. Laughing so hard you cry

22. Love

23. Chocolate and Peanut Butter Ice Cream

Freedom in Love.: The Mission to Jamaica

It's always interesting to reflect on where I was years ago. Here's a blog I wrote (which seems like a life time ago!) after the one and only mission trip I've ever been on, but which lead to me being open to travelling, living overseas, studying theology, and perhaps going back to Jamaica one day :)

Freedom in Love.: The Mission to Jamaica: Isn't it ironic when you do something with the intention of helping someone else...but then end up being the one blessed by the person you s...

The Bar

Back in my late teens/early 20's I went every now and then on a Monday night to a non-denominational worship rally held at the Canadian Christian college where hundreds of Christian youth-adults would gather. I found it both a refreshing and challenging time, and it gave me a lot of strength during a couple of difficult years as well as teaching me new things as I became an 'adult' in my walk with God.

I'm pretty sure it's the first place I had heard people speaking in tongues, and seen people slain in the spirit, and without opening any sort of ethical or theological discussion on that fact, it was an interesting experience having grown up in the Salvos and never being apart of anything like that before. I had several amazing encounters with others and with God that still blow my mind to think about, but that isn't what has caused me to remember those Monday nights of my youth.

Aside from any of my thoughts on the 'worship' aspect of these nights, there were some amazing speakers. I didn't agree with all of them, and I'm sure they didn't all have it worked out, but nonetheless, each week I felt challenged and encouraged by the words spoken at these Monday night meetings.

There is one speaker on one night that has always stuck out to me, and it's a preach that I've often reflected on when challenged about something personally or by those around me in this particular area.

More or less...this is what he said...

There is bar we have as Christians. A bar that we use to measure up our life choices and decisions, what we use to determine right from wrong.

As we live out our lives as people of the church we start to forget who set that bar, and instead turn our eyes to one another.

We look over at Fred over there and say to ourselves, 'well...at least I'm not doing THAT like he is' and the bar gets lowered a little bit. We then look at Susan over there and say to ourselves, 'well... at least I only do it once a week, not every day like she does', and the bar gets lowered a little bit more. Then we see Tom over there and say to ourselves, 'well...at least I still go to church, unlike him' and the bar gets lowered a little bit more.

This continues, usually without us realizing it, as we justify and rationalize our actions according to how our fellow brothers and sisters are living our their own lives, feeling relief and satisfaction in the fact that at least we're doing it all just that little bit better.

Before you know it, the bar is no longer where it was...far from it. It's settled so far beneath where it should be that perhaps what was 'black and white' becomes grey, and what we always 'knew' to be 'right' now seems cloudy and uncertain.

The problem is that we're all fallen, weak, sinful human beings, and therefore it will only cause us harm and compromise to compare ourselves against one another. There is in fact only one that we can be justified against...only one who should be telling us where that bar needs to be, without allowing it to slowly get lower.

That about summarizes the preach, and of course, preaching to teens and young adults it held great impact, because temptation, justification and compromise comes with the territory of growing up and learning our way in the world.

Thinking about it now though, I think it's an even bigger danger for those who are 'adults'. Teenagers have the excuse of hormones, peer pressure, high school, the influence of the media, and so forth to fall back on...and usually, eventually, they learn from their mistakes.

When you're an adult and you've come to the conclusion that you've worked it all out, that you're solid in your walk with God, or that you're a great contributor to the church and Christian community....I think you're actually at a much bigger risk at letting that bar slowly slip from where God had set it to where it's just a little bit more comfortable to suit the lifestyle you've chosen or the choices you have made. The problem then becomes, that it's a whole lot harder to admit to yourself that perhaps the bar has slipped or even to get it back to where it should be, because at least with teenagers, they're in a time in their life to be molded and formed and are just extremely teachable. It's not always the case once we hit the point of deciding that we've got things pretty much figured out.

There's probably a multitude of directions you could take the analogy preached about so many years ago to a much younger version of myself, as well as ways to discuss the theology of it or how it practically plays out.

Regardless....it's a thought someone once had to preach about to a group of a couple hundred youth, and I've got to say, it's stuck.

Probably a good thing to pop back into my mind every now and then as I take a look at my own bar, the slippery sucker that it is, and ask God to help me get it back up to where we both know it's supposed to be.

A Life Worth Following

Growing up in the church, believing in God and the journey of what that looked like goes back as far as I remember. I have memories of Sunday school and sitting in church with my parents as far back as my memories go. Saying prayers at night time, hearing Bible stories, and being involved in various programs and activities (brass band, Christmas productions, singing groups, etc).

What I also remember is how that realm of all things God related was trapped within some sort of bubble...a bubble of my own making I’m sure. It didn’t transcend so much into the rest of my life until I was well and truly into my teen years and no longer a ‘kid’. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time with friends from church, only school ones, nor did I speak a whole lot about those extracurricular activities once I was outside of this bubble.

Maybe part of that was to do with not being sure of or strong enough to stand up for what I believed. Maybe I didn’t know how the two worlds were supposed to relate to each other, never finding anyone else outside of the bubble who shared similar beliefs and activities. Maybe it was a little of both.

I have this vivid memory. I was in grade 6. The Billy Graham Crusade was in Toronto at the Sky Dome. We attended the programs that were intended for kids, as well as some of the concerts that were put on (DC Talk among others). I don’t remember what was talked about or preached on. But, what I do remember is the feeling...the revelation...of sitting in a packed stadium FULL of other kids. Other kids who obviously had a similar faith and knew the same God I knew. More than just a dozen others who shared a Sunday school class with me...this was different. We filled a public stadium, that normal every day people used all the time for normal type stuff...and talked about God!

I was on a high when I went back to school after that weekend. I was buzzing with the realisation that there were so many others. Not only that, there were these amazing people who spoke and incredible bands that played, and they all believed the same thing I did. I remember trying to share that excitement with two girls in my class. I showed a dog tag necklace I had gotten from the event and explained how the Sky Dome was full of people as we got to be part of this very fun and very cool weekend. Know what the reaction was? They laughed. They told me I was wrong. They told me I was making it up and that there was no way such an event took place and that it had to do with church or God. I did argue, and I did push..but eventually, defeated, let it go. And sadly, pretty much put it all back in the bubble and continued on as I was before...until, like I said above, several years had passed and I was well into my teens.

This story serves a point as I reflect on it. As a kid growing up in the church, I was never taught how to integrate that bubble into the ‘real’ world. How to allow what I learned and what I believed to transform me in such a way to make my life stand out because, somehow, I was different. Of course there were the typical teachings of how to be a child evangelist, encouraging us to bring our friends along to church and programs. But I lacked, as did many others I’m assuming, the ability to be wholly transformed by what I believed so that I led a life that was county cultural and stood out from what everyone else was doing.

Now today. I’ve done and learned a lot of things. I’ve gotten a degree from a theological college, and I have worked for over 10 years for The Salvation Army is varying capacities. There is no keeping my beliefs in the bubble, even if I wanted to. Due to where I have chosen to work and study, it is automatically presumed that I am a Christian. It’s no longer a matter of keeping hidden what I believe, but needing to make an effort to not compromise how people view those who do believe in God by what I say and do. In many effects, it’s an apologetic work as I strive to show those who have been hurt by the church or ‘religion’ in some shape or form what it really means to know love from God.

Now, let’s draw the comparison from my earlier story from when I was in grade 6. The problem with kids and God is that often they don’t know how to make it ‘fit’ into their ‘normal’ life...how to bridge two worlds, two cultures, and to have it all make sense in one lifestyle. Compare this to the life of adults and God. There’s probably still the same issues kids face, but going with my examples of where I currently am, the difficulty now lies with people knowing I’m a ‘Christian’ and therefore being judged on the fact.

I’m all for pride, stubbornness and just not caring what people think of me (I think something to that effect was said in the matron of honours speech at my wedding!). But how about instead of saying, it’s not fair to be held on a higher pedestal because I go to church, or, it’s my life and I can choose how I live it regardless of what people think......we actually embrace the opportunity to use our very life, the decisions we make and words that we say, to remake people’s views of religion, God and the church.

How about we suck up that pride and stubbornness and say, because people are watching...I am therefore going to make a decision about where I work, what kind of house I live in, where I choose to travel, how I spend my free time, what I do with my income, what causes I fight for, who I spend my time with....and use it all to be a living example of the transformation God has made in you?

I could argue for the fact I believe that if God has really transformed your heart, all of the above should just happen...but the reality is it’s hard, and we are a weak and broken people. The bubble is easier, cleaner, and makes it much easier to shut out what I don’t agree with about the church and it’s decisions, and means I can hide when I’m just too tired to do the ‘right’ thing.

There was something wrong with the grade 6 me, albeit not all of it was my fault. However, knowing what I do now, I will actively work towards using my natural red-headed stubbornness and pride to make my life one that is worthy of being dubbed as someone who knows God.

I Spy With My Little Eye

I’d consider myself a very ‘observational’ person. As a kid, this was probably more correctly labelled as ‘nosey’, but as an adult I’ll simply say that I’m just observant.

There seems to be a lot of negative news, down trodden spirits and just tired and worn out people at the moment. Every day Matt and I have been finding ourselves met with sad conversations or just people who have forgotten how to smile. Call it the time of year, blame it on winter, or say that it’s the end of school term. Whatever the reason, it sort of gets to you after a while. Matt so rightly reflected a couple days ago that it was just starting to get him down.

What good is being observational if all you observe is sad, heart wrenching or stressful? There may be a more than the usual stressors and difficulties around at the moment...but perhaps part of the problem is that it’s just so much easier to get caught up in the negative, then to allow our eyes to capture the beautiful and optimistic moments. I’m sure that they are there, despite how cold it is outside, or that it’s week 10 of the school term. It’s just time to start looking for them.

So...I will reflect on the good news and smile worthy moments of the past week or so...

- Two different sets of friends have received a happy and healthy baby. Thank God for new life!

- I spent my lunch hour at the primary school I work at on Mondays playing ‘what time is it Mr Wolf’ with a dozen preps who all seem to have much bigger feet then myself as they always ended up at the wolf before me.

- I watched my husband and his team win their basketball grand final, and then receive free pies to celebrate from the man who owns the petrol station where they hang out for a drink and chat after games.

- I talked to my sister for 2 hours who has just recently returned to Canada from Haiti. And despite her being half asleep by the end of it, thoroughly enjoyed the catch up and entertaining stories.

- I had a lovely dinner at the in-laws, and feel very blessed to know that even though my family is just so far away, I still have people who love spending time with me (and feeding me!)

- I got to hang out with 40 children, parents, leaders and others from our Reservoir community for Family Squads. It was pretty much chaos...but the good kind that you can only get when running programs in Reservoir.

- Played the most intense and vicious (I didn’t cheat I swear...) game of Pit that I have ever seen! But more importantly spent that night with some very lovely people to celebrate Darryn’s birthday.

- Enjoyed the company of my best friend and partner over the weekend as we had time to stay in bed until noon, have a walk in the sunshine, and enjoy a brunch of delicious French toast.

Well, I have to say...I now have a smile on my face and am feeling the most positive that I have felt in a while. Just because I took a few minutes to think of the highlights of my past week.

Happy glasses are now on...and I will be on the lookout for more ‘magic moments’.

What’s yours?