July 26th by Jon Acuff, Stuff Christians Like

“Do you ever think you’ll be a real minister someday?”

If I had a dollar for every time someone said this to a youth minister I could probably train a worship eagle to hunt and kill the pigeon that pooped in the mouth of the Kings of Leon bass player, forcing them to cancel their St. Louis show this weekend after only three songs. (In pigeon society this event has already been labeled, “The greatest day ever.”)

Alas, no one pays me money when youth ministers get insulted. That’s a shame because it happens. We think youth ministers are goofballs. They’re good at kickball and pranks that involve whipped cream. And once a year we let them preach on youth Sunday.

But I think in a lot of ways, they’ve got the toughest job at a church. In fact, here are five reasons we should never consider our youth ministers silver medal ministers.

1. Liability forms

They should just call these, “Get out of jail free,” cards, because that’s what they are. When youth ministers plan a retreat, they’ve got to collect liability forms from each student. Why? Because someone is going home with a broken leg. That’s just going to happen. Someone will jump off a sand dune, throw an apple at someone’s head or get stitches. That never happens to senior pastors. Not once did my minister dad come home from an elder retreat and say, “Yeah, Hank Johnson tied a fake snake over the bathroom door and Mary Smith freaked out and broke her hand slamming the door shut.

2. Relevance

Youth ministers have to be relevant across multiple generations. Senior pastors don’t to the same degree. When my dad mentioned Seinfeld in a sermon, he was mentioning something that as a 40 year old he liked. It’s different for youth ministers. They have to understand and communicate in their own generation and their student’s generation. What does that mean? Basically, you’re going to be forced to pick a team in the Twilight series. If you like jean shorts and sit ups, go Team Jacob. If you want to be an emo Robert Smith kind of vampire, go Team Edward.

3. Speaking

Youth groups are harder to speak to than the average Sunday congregation. I learned this recently while speaking to some students. After talking for about four minutes, I noticed that there was a kid asleep in the crowd. And not just a little asleep, he was sprawled out. Teens will fall asleep if you don’t bring it instantly. They also won’t fake laugh. Adults will give you “courtesy laughs.” Not teenagers. If it ain’t funny, they ain’t laughing. Teens, in a good way, make you work for it.

4. Dramas

I don’t know if it’s technically a rule, but poor youth ministers often end up being forced to perform cheestastical dramas on mission trips. Our youth group did a dance routine to Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror.” Maybe your youth group had puppets or handbells. You might have even had a mime troupe at your church. (I would name mine, “Gloves of Love.”) Regardless of the variation, chances are, your youth minister had to not only do his/her regular job but also be skilled at the performing arts.

5. Orange Drink & Pizza

I think youth ministers have a lifespan that is eight years shorter than the general population due to all the ghetto orange drink and pizza they are forced to consume. And it’s always the kind of pizza where you can’t tell if you’re eating a piece or have just started biting the box. The pizza is thin, covered with a sandpaper like layer of cheese, and crafted with crusts that could kill a man like an aborigine boomerang.

There are probably a billion reasons it’s difficult to be a youth minister, but one of the reasons that it’s not, is pretty simple:

This generation has more potential to spread the gospel than any other generation in the history of mankind.

It’s true, teenagers today will communicate more, share more and talk more than ever before. Twenty years ago, when a student heard a great sermon, they maybe told two friends at school. Now, they post a link to it on facebook. They tweet about it. They blog about it. Your sermon can go viral in about 12 seconds. The ability for this next generation to be salt and light is unbelievable.

I thank God for Kurt Andre my youth minister growing up.

If you had a youth minister you’re thankful for too, give them a shout out today. Forward them post and comment with this:

“I thank God for ________________.”

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Disclaimer:  I think the Rock is awesome but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity; it gives me a chance to write about a guilty pleasure – wrestling.  This is littered with Rock catch phrases; please let  me know if you find them all.  And if this is dedicated to you, you know who you are and your secret is safe with me 

I have an embarrassing confession to make:  I am a reformed wrestling fan.  Actually, I am more of a former wrestling fan because I just got too busy to watch television somewhere along the way.  I go way back to the days of “real” wrestling with Mr. Wrestling I and II, Dusty Rhodes (and he did slap the hood of every van at Tom Stimus Chevrolet!), the Rock-n-Roll Express, Magnum T.A. (bum arm and all), the Freebirds, Ric Flair (before he was a spokesperson for rascal scooter), the Andersons, Andre the Giant, the von Erichs, and the baddest of the bad, the Road Warriors.  George Steele ate turn buckles while Leaping Lanny Paffo did back flips off of them.  Hulk Hogan was not quite leather yet.  Rowdy Roddy Piper wore his kilt because he was proud of his heritage.  You could watch wrestling on TBS every Saturday night from 6pm until 2am Sunday morning.  Whoa, those were some good times!

I can go as old school as I like but none of those guys hold a candle to The Rock. Dwayne Johnson.  The Great One.  The People’s Champion. From the University of Miami he went to the Canadian Football League but ended up turning to wrestling like his father and grandfather.  These days he spends his time making films like Game Plan and The Tooth Fairy.

So why in the world am I writing about The Rock?  Basically because I can.  Other than that, though, I think that, as much as I dig him, Mr. Johnson is not the true people’s champion.  I think that if you go one on one with the real Great One that it will change your life and change your eternity.  I do think that it matters what I think in this world because the real People’s Champion is Jesus and He is interested in me.  The real Rock has come back . . . from the grave.  He defeated hell and death to save my soul for eternity.  And if you don’t know my Rock then, at judgment, He is going to lay the smack down for your soul for all time.

Now the real Rock has just one question:  do you know Me?  He is coming to a town near you at a time unannounced and you had better be ready because no one knows the day or hour.

Heaven is the coolest thing since the other side of the pillow, Jabroni, and you’d better get ready.  Cause I don’t have to smell what the Rock is cooking – it’s written in the book.  And when we know the real People’s Champion, we win.

1. Let’s just start with the big one, the one that hurts my pride the most, and knocks me to my knees the hardest.   This may not be a shock to you but it comes as quite a surprise to me:  I may not be the most important person I know; there may just be someone else who has something valuable to say. Maybe I need to be quiet simply because of this.
2. It’s easier to listen to someone else when I’m not talking.  Again, this is a no brainer for most people but I guess I needed the reminder.
3. Another reason is that sometimes the stuff that I say is just not okay. Jesus says in Matthew 12:34, “For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks”.  OUCH!  Sometimes what comes out of my mouth reflects my heart and simply is not pretty.
4. A tried but true reason for silence is:  you cannot take back what you say.
5. Talking about something unpleasant or something that is out of my control keeps my brain on the treadmill or negative emotions, doubt, fear, and all sorts of dark things. Shutting up and turning to God in prayer or singing a worship tune reminds me that God is in control and that in the end, we still win.

Silence is not easy, at least not for a girl like me.  But God is showing me that all things are possible with Him, even me, shutting my mouth.  The bonus in all of this for me is that my silence is confirmation that miracles still exist, too.

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Number one reason: These guys are a little thick. The Sons of Thunder ask Jesus if they could sit at His right and left hands when His kingdom came. They don’t quite understand who He is. The disciples sit in a boat with one loaf of bread and argue about not having any food; this is not long after Jesus feeds yet again another large crowd (4,000 according to the gospels) and these guys pick up seven (yes, seven!) baskets of leftovers. They know who Jesus is but they forget at the same time.

Number two: Their faith was wavering at times. Picture this scene: Peter (my favorite disciple and, at times, bonehead extraordinaire) hops out of the boat and is walking on water. For a moment, you cannot tell him a thing – he is the man. His faith takes him to an impossible place. And then he realizes where he is. His faith wavers. He begins to sink. Or at the time of Jesus’ arrest, the disciples were scattered and afraid. This Man who had been healing the blind, causing the deaf to hear, making the lame to walk, casting out demons, and healing all other sorts of maladies has been arrested and they are afraid. They are scattered like sheep and my guess is that they feel pretty faithless right now.

Number three: They grow up. These guys give me hope because they persevere and continue to follow Jesus. They let Jesus heal them and forgive them of their sins. Can you imagine how Peter must have wept when he realized that Jesus forgave him for his denial? Thomas’ doubt turned to belief after he felt the scars in Jesus’ hands and He realized that His Lord loved him even when he doubted. 12 men following Jesus, sticking to their commitment, continuing through dark times and wavering faith, going on to do great things for God’s kingdom.

Without a doubt, I♥ Disciples

How do you become the Sons of Thunder?  James.  John.  These guys were two of Jesus’ closest companions.  They were with Him in the garden before His crucifixion and they were with Him when He was transfigured.  They spent time with Jesus and, in the process, the Sons of Zebedee became the Sons of Thunder.

Do you know why they earned this name?  Because Jesus knew them.  He knew that they were impulsive and impetuous.  He knew their desire to be great and He knew their passion for Him.  Jesus knew them intimately.

Sons of Thunder, indeed, they were appropriately named by their Lord.  I can almost see Jesus chuckling when He first said this out loud.  Maybe it struck Him as funny in a way that they didn’t even know at the time.  However it was said, it was said because they walked with the Lord.

Jesus has a new name for you and for me (Revelation 2:17, 3:12).  He has named us because He has called us His own.

I can’t wait to get to heaven to find out what He calls me.

For interesting information on the Sons of Thunder check out this link: http://lavistachurchofchrist.org/LVSermons/SonsOfThunder.htm

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After night
Comes a light
Dawn is here
Dawn is here
It’s a new day, a new day
Oh, everything will change
Things will never be the same
We will never be the same
Oh, everything will change
Things will never be the same
We will never be the same

This song was so appropriately timed because when I heard the lyrics parts of my past had flitted into my mind and were attempting to wreak havoc with their taunting questions, “Can you believe who you were? Did you really do that?” and I was buying into their junk by even entertaining those thoughts.

WE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. YOU will never be the same. I will never be the same.

Praise God!

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Why would God tell me to be quiet? Doesn’t He realize that He made me the chatty person that I am??? Does Michael Phelps have a life outside of the pool? I’m not convinced he does. This is how I see me with no words: I am a swimmer in a waterless pool, Eric Clapton with no guitar, Maya Angelou without a pen.

So what now? The idea of me without the spoken word confirms to me that my sense of humor comes from my Father. Obviously Daddy likes a good laugh, too.

Stay tuned. I know that I can trust God so now I will sit in silent confusion and wait to hear what He tells me next. This is going to be a good.

In our Names of God class last night we had yet another conversation on waiting.  This is a weekly topic for us when we take prayer requests and it’s known in our group that you’re either waiting, you just came though a period of waiting, or you know you’ll wait again in the future for something.

This outlook is pretty bleak.  No one likes to wait.  I certainly don’t.  I prefer to eat at home rather than wait for a table in a restaurant.  Waiting is just not fun.

Or is it?

This morning I’m thinking sometimes that waiting might not be as bad as we make it out to be.  While waiting is passive, the life that we live while we wait is still active.  For example, the bride waits anxiously for her wedding day but she is planning while she waits.  She picks a dress, her bridesmaids, there are showers to attend, presents to open, dreams to dream – all of this occurs while she waits.

My children anxiously wait for school to end each spring.  While they wait, though, there are many year end activities that fill their time – field days, dances, award ceremonies, movie days in class, and so on.

And while I wait for God, I can spend time with Him.  When I spend time with Him, He continues to show Himself to me and to grow me.  It is in the time of waiting for Him that He reveals Himself to me and prepares me for whatever it is that I’m waiting for.  I may not understand why El Olam (Everlasting God, which is the secret Name of God) has His own purposes and His own timing for me, but He does and I can trust Him to reveal them when He is ready.

See if you can find joy in your waiting today.  I’m waiting to hear what you find.

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Jesus says that fruits and false prophets have much in common. He says that false prophets are disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves. He also says that we will know these wolves by their fruits (Matthew 7:15-20). Based on Jesus’ words it’s easy for me to think that that-high-profile-high-powered-person-who-influences-thousands-maybe-even-millions might be a false prophet. His or her words are so obviously not Biblical that seeing this person for who they are is a no brainer. And their fruit? Rotten. Bruised. Possibly causes of sickness and disease to anyone who eats it. I can look at this person and think, “Buddy, Jesus is coming. You had better get it together!”

What about me, though? What about little-ol-me-who-influences-people-by-the-tens-maybe-even-by-the-ones? What kind of prophet am I to those around me? What kind of fruit am I bringing to the table? My friends at www.m-w.com give us the traditional definitions of a prophet but they also include this: an effective or leading spokesman for a cause, doctrine, or group. Wow! Based on those words I’m a prophet. A prophet for Christ who influences and effects the tens-or-maybe-only-ones around me.

Today as we go about our daily business, let’s remember that we’re all prophets for Christ because we are spokesmen and women for His cause. If it makes things easier just know that I’ll be picturing myself in my prophet’s mantle with a bushel of shiny, good fruit tucked under one arm to share with those around me.

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Such familiar phrases! Schedules are overflowing with commitments and appointments that must be met. Blackberries and iPhones and internet and television and Tevo and OnDemand and cell phones and sports and exercise and the kids’ homework and volunteering and service (the list is endless!) keep us running at full tilt, often times running even when our tilt is hardly full and could use a long overdue rest.

We are a busy society. Period. No questions, just a statement. In the midst of my busy-ness I find time bandits. Poltergeists – nasty little critters that cause disorder. Mischievous, petite demons make off with my precious time when I am not looking. Like the men in the 1981 movie, the Time Bandits in my life are moving about seeking treasure to steal. That treasure is the time that I can never recover.

Seemingly innocuous interruptions add up to days and weeks of stolen time that is forever lost. Five minutes talking in the break room turns into five minutes that force me to stay later in the office which in turn gets me home a little later which means dinner is rushed or cold and I miss time to enjoy my husband and children.

Perusing the appliance aisle in Lowe’s and lusting over the Energy Star Washer/Dryer combo in fabulous shade of Mediterranean Blue for more than a minute becomes me being out of the house longer than I meant to be and I find that the day has somehow slipped away from me. (For the record, it is unfortunate but true that I correctly used the word “lusting” in reference to appliances because I can see this beautiful duo of appliance wonder sitting in my laundry room, shining in its glory, and somehow bringing an end to all of my domestic woes.)

It is not wrong to talk to a friend or spend a few minutes daydreaming. The point is that we have to be careful of letting these minutes add up to hours and then days and steal away our lives. God wants to be first even in our every day calendars; when we put Him there we quickly discover His presence causes the Time Bandits to go somewhere else and play.

Think about it: Banishing the Time Bandits. That doesn’t sound too bad to me.

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