Lines Show Through

Paint on those walls changed everything. And it was changed twice. There was a new group at the church. It had been a while since there was someone to direct a youth group. That was until that September when someone stepped up to do something, somewhere for some kids. It wasn’t a large group to begin with. Just a few kids from the church who wanted to get together for some fun and fast food. There is where Friday nights in the gym began. Every last one of them possessed lots of energy and they all had lots of fun. It was always followed by pizza and pop, and a small unprepared devotional that usually lead to the kids opening up and sharing their joys and sorrows.
Over the next few months it grew to also include a number of kids who had never been to church before. A good mix and a great place to mix. After talking with the powers that be, it was decided to give them a room. A room to personalize and make their own. It was a loud room where twenty cans of old paint made an imaginative display of who and what these teens were. They loved the opportunity to display their creativity. It was something most of us would never want in our homes but then again, these kids are told how things should be by adults who believed that, “you can do it your way when you pay the bills.”
It was a great year for everyone. By spring it was an amazing group of kids who showed up every Friday night. They grew together. They had fun. They grew in their connection to the God we love and worship. But as things happen, it was time for the leader to move on and no one could be found to take over the ministry of impacting these kids for Christ. The inevitable happened. The group fell apart and a great year came crashing to a halt. The kids left and never came back.
That is when the church managers stepped in at the first opportunity and proceeded to go into that dynamic, vibrant, colourful room and paint it beige - three coats. The act of painting over what was truly theirs gives us what we received. And what we received is a nice clean, beige empty room in the basement of a church that have not been used in twenty years.
If we truly desire to bring our children and grandchildren back to Christ and His church we have to let them come on their terms, in their time and with their own identity. If I remember correctly, that is what our parents did for us fifty years ago.
As you stand in that cold empty room, you can still see the faint outline of what was once their mark in that church. My prayer is that the mark Jesus made in their lives that fall and winter still remains as well.
Something to think about
Rob