What I've Done

This past weekend was one of the most emotional and exciting weekends of my life. The 21st Annual Youth Rally, sponsored by the Peninsula-Delaware Conference of the United Methodist Church. I've been on the Conference Council on Youth Ministries (CCYM) since May, and a huge part of our job is to plan the Youth Rally. As a bonus, we get all access passes, get to be backstage, meet the bands, sell the band's merchandise, and get cooler shirts than everyone else. The theme --"Whatever," from Colossians 3:23 "Whatever you do, work at it with your whole heart, as working for the Lord, not for men."

I show up at around noon on Thursday expecting to do some work. Turns out I didn't really do anything at all until five, but I was there. I was serving. It's what I was there to do.

Either that night or Friday afternoon, Jon asked us why we were there. What we wanted to get out of the Rally. And none of the kids said anything. I started questioning myself --why was I there? What did I expect to get during the weekend? Answers about other people I still have no idea of. Several I suspected of just going through the motions year after year, or to get behind the scenes, or to get on stage. An answer came for me pretty fast. I was there to serve. To do whatever was necessary to create an environment where people of all denominations could grow closer to God. I was fulfilling my call to servanthood.

People have all types of callings. I know I have a servant's heart. I'm always trying to get involved, to help, to contribute. It's just how I roll. It feels like the only time I really get closer to God is when I roll up my sleeves and do some dirtywork for the Kingdom. Sure, the earthly rewards are nice, but the Heavenly ones I can't even begin to imagine. Free shirts, an all expense paid trip to Ocean City with room and food taken care of, and all access passes to Starfield, L.A. Symphony, Hawk Nelson, Ayiesha Woods, Flatfoot 56, Justin Lookadoo, Taylor Mason, and Kathleen Baskin-Ball..... it sounds nice. I'm not going to lie --it was nice. But I wasn't just given a pass for nothing. I was out of the Convention Center after midnight every night and back before eight the next morning. With a meeting every night after getting back to the hotel, there wasn't much time for sleep. Every morning that I woke up tired or late or cold I got into the shower and knew I was doing it for my Heavenly Master, not because the world told me it was a nice thing to do.

Because of that, I was so blessed, even by the world's standards. I had my debut in the Rally rules video --a cell phone was snatched out of my hand and thrown (literally, Aaron chucked it) aside. When it was shown, I heard my friends go nuts and scream out my name. Back in November I had volunteered to pray onstage and possibly announce a band. I did both. And more. I was first on stage on Saturday with Bethany. We had spent most of Friday singing the chorus of "Punk Rawk Show" or "Chick Magnet" by MxPx, and since we were still belting it out Saturday morning Shane picked us to sing "I Want It That Way" as a little announcement for "Making the Band." We strut out at the end of the announcements and belt out our worst rendition of The Backstreet Boys anyone has ever heard. The crowd went nuts. And they loved it. And I loved it. And I made my announcement in front of nearly 4,500 people. Probably twenty minutes later, Bethany and I were sent back out to introduce Starfield, the worship band for the weekend. More screaming and cheering. Starfield's lead singer starts to sing "I Want It That Way." I say to Bethany "Starfield wishes they could be us!"

At lunch we assign who will be introducing what breakout session. I'm assigned one about the mass media or something for the second session, and for the first I announce L.A. Symphony to about twenty people. I went out and was so unenthusiastic. I felt horrible walking down the stairs within inches of the band. The least I could have done was to pump up the crowd, but I let my lack of sleep prevent me from pumping myself up. This in itself is a lesson for another blog.

At approximately 6:30, I was busy working at the Starfield table. Bethany called me and told me to get my butt over to the information booth because I was supposed to be opening the evening general session in prayer at 7:30. I run over and am supposed to write out a prayer in ten minutes. I crash in the Prayer Room with a lot on my heart. My buddy Caitlin had texted me earlier that day telling me about a horrible car accident that claimed the lives of two teenage boys from Delmar and had two others in serious condition in the hospital. Caitlin also told me that two girls with my youth group had known the boys. What was I supposed to do with the information? Caitlin specifically told me in the text that it was a prayer request long before I realized I was doing the opening prayer. I felt a deep urge to mention it in my prayer somehow, a comfort to those who were totally crushed without bringing everyone else down. In the end I just said "Please also be with all our family and friends at home, and help us witness to them as we go back into our situations tomorrow." On my way out of the prayer room I stopped and wrote on a Post-It note a simple prayer request --for two lives ended much too soon. Kneeling on the floor as I stuck it to the wooden cross in front of me, reading some of the surrounding requests, I almost burst into tears. How was it that I was responsible for leading thousands of people in prayer? Starting their evening of amazing worship? How was I worthy to have that honor? I realize now that I wasn't. I'm not. But Jesus chose me. "He chose all of us." [Evan Almighty]

Walking out onto the stage by myself, clutching the piece of computer paper that my prayer was hand written on, I hear a loud roar to my right --from the section I know both my youth group, Mt. Olivet, and my adopted youth group, Avenue, were sitting in. Within seconds the entire hall was screaming my name. I was a star. I was famous. And I said "Will you please join me in a word of prayer." I asked these things in Jesus' name and walked off the stage. I was soon backstage praying for Taylor Mason, a comedian ventriloquist, minutes before he went on. I praised God for the gift of humor Taylor had been given. We were in a tight circle screaming over Ayiesha Woods songs and could barely hear each other. But it was amazing.

After I waited in line to get Starfield and Ayiesha to sign my cd's, I was rambling on to a security guard about how I have access to the bands at all times. "I have a lanyard and a laminated piece of paper! Don't mess with me!" I turn around and Ayiesha is sitting there laughing at me. Straight up laughing. At me.

Then I go to Justin Lookadoo's table. Yes, Lookadoo is his real name. A bunch of us on CCYM and with Master's Commission were standing around chatting with him, so I buy one of his books. He signs it to me "Joy -No regrets jLookadoo" I get all excited about not being the only person who signs with a lowercase "j" and he pounds me. It was amazing. Bethany and I get a few pictures with a skinny blond guy who's only six foot seven with spiky hair doing a cheerleader pose. It must have been late Saturday night.

[prayer saturday night]

Once again, Sunday morning Bethany and I take the stage. More roaring as we make our announcements. After Flatfoot 56's stunning performance, the five seniors take the stage with Shane while Andrea closed the entire weekend in prayer. Pretty powerful stuff was going on. When I went to buy Flatfoot's records (Vinyl. Actual vinyl records.), I realized how human these bands are. They aren't superstars. They're servants, too. Backstage with Starfield, we were watching WOW Hits music videos through the screen and one of the guitarists points up at the screen when a Kutless song came on and exclaimed "I played that song!" During Saturday night prayer, Ayiesha and her brother came out from behind the curtain a couple feet to watch CCYM kids pray for our peers, strangers who are our brothers and sisters in Christ. No one mobbed them. They were just people. Just two siblings amazed by watching God move through, well, teenagers. It gives me hope for our future.