Wednesday, February 10, 2010


They're goofy. They tell inappropriate jokes, and say things like "Your FACE is cold" when you say you're cold. They swarm into our basement, Friday nights, and eat pizza and endless bags of potato chips and oh, the noise. Laughter and shouting and the door to outside opens and closes and the sound fills the house to the roof.

Every once in a while someone drifts upstairs looking for a glass of water and I find myself having a chat with a tattooed boy who is offering to dry my dinner dishes, or a young woman who is learning to knit. (or, you know, a guy with a mohawk who can't remember how "you do that purl thing").

They tease each other and push each other around and sometimes they sit at the top of the stairwell or on a table top, out of the action, with their arms around each other, crying and praying.

They have cell phones and iPods and msg each other from across the room. They look out for each other, a grade nine girl spending her lunch hours with a grade seven boy new to her school cause he's part of her church crowd, and her friends can just Deal.

They come from all over the city, from every kind of home imaginable. Absent fathers, absent mothers, step-parents and stepbrothers and stepsisters they don't get along with, or don't know, or don't know how to get along with, or would like to see more of but just can't, siblings scattered in the wake of divorces and remarriages. Stable two parent homes. Stable one parent homes. Some of them have a lot, some have enough, some are struggling.

They're working out how they fit, and where they fit, and where God fits, and what He wants of them. They encourage each other and pray for each other and their faith shames me to tears, some days.

And a dozen of them are giving up their spring break this year to go to Mexico with Amor Ministries to build houses. To do something "with my own two hands that will make a difference."


If they raise enough money. They're baking and collecting bottles and planning fundraising dinners (did I mention the grade 12 girl who volunteered, eagerly, to cook dinner for over 100 people?) and shampooing carpets, because there aren't many of them that come from families who can help them with the funds.

And I add up the numbers and get nervous, and then one of them says "Don't forget to pray your hearts out, you guys."

And I remember that God loves to be asked to do big things.

Can you join me, praying for this marvelous group of young people I am privileged to know, that God will provide for them?

Thank you.


ccap said...

Well said. Will do.

Ruthie said...

I remember those eating me out of house and home, playing the only Nintendo in the neighborhood (dates me, doesn't it? LOL) even if it means playing Noah's Ark and asking who Noah is. Now I'm older and done with my children, enjoying my grandchildren in another state and missing the noise...sometimes.

In other words, prayers you got...lots of them!

Kay Day said...

wonderful, Susan! I'll pray for your gang.

Koala Bear Writer said...

Wow - bless them. I'll be praying too. God works wonders! :)

Janet Sketchley said...

Praying, Sue. May God provide in amazing ways.

violet said...

This post takes me back to the days... Will pray. They'll go!

Flicka said...

I will. They sound like a great group!

Colleen Taylor said...

This gave me shivers and shivers:

"And I add up the numbers and get nervous, and then one of them says 'Don't forget to pray your hearts out, you guys.'

"And I remember that God loves to be asked to do big things."