I have a tendency to be harsh on
myself. I am prone to seek out the
individual, and one-on-one conversations are one of my strengths. However, as a teacher, I am also trained to
also be mindful of everyone in my charge, and the goal is to reach them
all. Yet, in that moment, I felt God had
whispered to me, “Don’t get caught on the one(s) you feel you haven’t
reached. Remember the ones you have
reached.” The purpose of this statement
was this: I had suddenly focused on the possible
understanding that I didn’t reach everyone in my care. However, what God wanted me to think on was
the testimonies how I had run into a few girls throughout the week, in those interruptions
of my walks around the campus came opportunities where He was able to speak to
them His love, hope, and truth. These
are their stories.
Ministry, for me, began the Sunday
night. Camp officially began the Monday
afternoon, but the night before, staff and junior staff went up to Hungry Horse
for a preparation service by means to worship, be in God’s presence, and pray
for the rest of the week. On the way
back from the service, I was talking to one of our Browning junior staff. The conversation began as things are going
alright, but then she admitted that not all was well at home. With some council, I felt led to pray for her
and the understanding of her identity and worth in Christ.
Out of my five girls, I was given the
opportunity to pray with four of them for different reasons. My first girl comes from Browning. During our devotion time on Monday night, I
had asked the girls, “Do you believe that you are children of God.” This girl said, “I do, but I don’t, because I
don’t know God.” I, then, asked her if
she wanted to ask Jesus into her life.
She wanted to wait until all the girls were gone to shower, but we
eventually prayed together. Later,
throughout the week, she asked a couple of good questions, such as, “Do people
who don’t believe in Jesus then go to hell?”
As off topic to the devotional as it was, it was impertinent to discuss,
and allowed for another girl to ask a question that he always wondered
about.
Second of my cabin-girls had been eating
up what was being said during the services, however, on Thursday, she admitted
that her legs had been hurting for two days.
We prayed before chapel began.
When I had asked her if there was any change, she said there was
none. However, after the service, she
said that when she went up for the prayer activity given by the youth pastor,
her legs no longer hurt. Jesus had
healed her pain!
I had one girl who, on the first night of
camp, wanted to ask a question, but was quite hesitant to do so. She wanted to ask about it, but she hinted
that she was nervous about what I, perhaps the other girls in the room as well,
would think. I suggested that if she was
more comfortable, that she could tell me by herself. With the prompting of a friend, she admitted,
openly, that she is bisexual. As the
conversation went, I could tell that she was wondering if God loves her, yet, I
could also hint that she desired that her sexuality, as is was, would be
accepted among Christians. I confirmed
that the Bible indeed states that homosexuality is a sin; nevertheless,
homosexuality is no greater sin than the pride I have struggled with, and yes,
God still loves her. I encouraged her to
give her sexuality to God.
Two days had passed, and as I was walking
around the campus, I ran into her, tears about to run down her cheeks. I asked her what was going on, but she just
wanted to curl up in a ball in the dorm-room.
Convincing her to talk with me, she then explained that she has these
emotions that no one understands, and a father who tells her to not cry. She was heartbroken over a girl she was
attracted to (and was showing attention to someone else).
A heart hurt over a relationship, even if
the relationship is the wrong relationship, is still a heart hurt. The conversation grew into explaining my own
experiences with attractions (though toward boys, I have some lessons that
could be shared), and waiting for the right time to be in a relationship. I advised her that she would need to talk to
this girl and let her know that they can only be friends. She wondered what the use would be. “What’s the use if I’m going to hell anyway?” Even though this girl claimed to be bisexual,
and she desired at some level that she wanted that to be okay, there was an
uncomfortableness in her spirit, because, she also wanted to believe and please
God. We prayed together that God would
take hold of her life, and lead her how to be following Him. We also prayed that God would help her
emotions and restore her sexuality as He meant it to be.
The last girl in my cabin that I
interacted with, in my book, needed a spiritual PCA (personal care attendant). From night one she admitted struggling with
depression (later, suicidal tendencies).
She wanted to worship God, but due to the things that have happened in
her past, she didn’t know how to worship.
Throughout the week, it seemed like she was the one I had to attend to
the most, and was constantly praying with.
She woke up two out of the four nights with being startled in her dreams
or hearing a voice (she also has a history of night terrors…may be due to what
happened to her). Throughout the week, I
confided in a friend, and agreed that she needed some deliverance ministry,
however, knowing that she doesn’t have any godly support back home, any more
than just praying with her to sleep well and speaking into her identity may make her more susceptible for attacks that she won't recover from. This isn’t to say that she doesn’t need this
kind of ministry, but deliverance plus counseling is needed to heal many of the
wounds she carries.
That being said, throughout the week, I
saw that she was smiling more and more.
On the last night, I woke up at 5:00 in the morning, as expected (she
would wake up around this time). I heard
startling, and prayed suddenly, “Oh, God, please not again.” As I lifted my head,
it was other girls that were moving in their sleep. This girl had slept straight through the
night! Somehow, I believe God woke me up
at that time to show me that she slept straight through. I hope that as she goes on, further healing
will come into her life, and Christ is given the room and opportunity to
minister to her soul. Another God-thing
in this girl’s life: I found out that
she lives in Missoula right now, and me being from Missoula, I have resources
to get her connected with a church and Christian friends. That was really cool to find out!
Ministry was not only secluded to my room
staff girls. I found that some staff
members needed prayer; ministry in a home situation, another needed prayer for
a sprained ankle (which by the next morning, had the wrap off and was walking
without any pain). My “PCA girl” had a
friend that she feared had been offended.
When she brought up her concern, I had just hunted down a Bible and
wanted to go upstairs and write a note in it.
However, I felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to follow her, and when I did,
she sat down under the bridge-stairs, talking to her friend. I knelt down and listened to the conversation. I asked if I could come under and talk to the
friend. The friend admitted she plays
mind games in order to obtain control.
She said that her parents have told her she was a mistake. I felt like God wanted to speak about her
identity.
“Do
you know that you are a blessing? Maybe
your parents were surprised, but God was excited when you were born. You have gifts and talents that can be used
to bless others. Let me prove it to
you. Who was it that comforted and
hugged [my PCA girl]?”
“I was,” with tears streaming in her
eyes. We then prayed that she would give
her life to God, repented of the mind games, trust Him to have control, and to
stand in her identity.
Many things happened this last week of
Indian Youth Camp. Many years, there are
moments when it was very visibly evident that the Holy Spirit was moving, people
were not only getting prayed for, but encounters were happening. This year, from the very first night (at
least in the youth services), students were given words of truth. Things were stated that would impact their
overall being, if the teens would just take hold of what was being said, and
bring it home with them. Pastor John
Weasel mentioned one night that every year, we come crying, and discussing the
same hardships we brought the year before.
He challenged that we cannot live for a transactional relationship with
Jesus; rather, transformational. One
where what happens at camp actually has a lasting impact on the lives of those
who come, their communities, and when returning, would be able to share testimonies
and laugh about what God has done.
Thinking
upon IYC 2017, I am thankful that God encountered so many of our teens. It’s humbling to know that He’s willing to
use shy-old-me (actively praying with people is actually a relatively new thing
for me) to share what He wanted said with these girls. He used my personality and giftings, and I
didn’t have to try to be someone else to try to reach them. He knows that one-one-one is the best way I
can get through to kids, and He used that.
As a teacher, I started using some classroom management to strategize
keeping some of the nightly distractions down (seriously, I yelled at them and
started counting like I did with the preschoolers I taught last semester, but
it worked…). He gave me ideas of how to
modify the devotions to better fit their understanding and keep their
attention.
Furthermore, I also had to remind myself
that the transformation of a transformational relationship isn’t solely
dependent on me. That was what I was
struggling with Thursday morning, as I became acutely aware that the week was
drawing to a close. I needed to realize
that I stepped up when God prompted me to do so, be grateful for those personal
conversations, but also let God do the work.
After all, Indian Youth Camp is only four days, and these teens have
another full year before they come back again.
Camp is great, but the real work is going
to happen while they are at home. The
test of the longevity of their faith will be formatted as they live their lives
in their communities. I pray that the
work that happened at camp wasn’t merely a fun event; rather, I hope it was a
stepping stone. Events are merely great memories, but the deep impact is forgotten.
Stepping stones create an ongoing trail as long as one
continues to place stones in a certain direction. In this case, following after Christ in all areas of their lives. Perhaps, next year, there will be more
testimonies, and a lot more laughter.
I hope and pray so.
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