Michindoh

A three-dimensional gospel (Michindoh Post 20)

July 1, 2013July 1, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is twentieth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

On the last day of Young Lives camp, in the final minutes of the last club of the week, almost 350 people – all the mamas, babies, leaders, mentors, childcare workers, and work staff – gathered together as a group. Because the work staff was, well, usually working during the week, and because the childcare workers were usually, you know, caring for children when mamas were busy during the week, this was the one and only time for such a collective gathering.

It was beautiful to behold.

Breathtaking, actually.

So much life, so much love, so much compassion, so much passion, so much energy, so much promise, so much of God’s beautiful creation, all in one place.

I wish I could describe it to you. I wish I could give you just the smallest glimpse of what it looked like. I wish I could help you feel for just one moment the Spirit’s overwhelming presence in that place.

But I can’t.

The special lens that allowed me to compress all of those seated folk in the whole of that seating arena into a single viewing frame did just what it promised: compressed all of that life and love and passion and energy and promise into a flat, squished, distorted, lifeless image.

It’s like a futuristic class picture gone awry.

In truth, the side-sections of the room are sharply angled, not flush with the middle section.

And the people seated in the side-sections are normal size, not miniature mashed versions of those in the middle.

And the faces are radiant images of hope and joy and life, not stoic plasticine molds of the real thing.

And the babies are wiggling, giggling, screaming, cooing bundles of babyhood, not lifeless and silent dolls.

But truth isn’t easily contained in a finite, two-dimensional space.

Certainly Jesus, who is truth itself, is much too incomprehensibly marvelous and indescribably wondrous to fit into any two-dimensional space.

So we do our best to wisely comprehend and to humbly describe Him in three-dimensional ways…
by being his hands and feet…
by telling his story…
by living his love.

Because of grace, there is every hope that our reflection of Jesus will be more true and beautiful than my camera’s reflection of the last great gathering at Young Lives camp. And let me tell you – it was true and beautiful indeed.

Washed Clean (Michindoh Post 19)

June 30, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is nineteenth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

How do you mark the week, the day, the moment that a heart turns towards home, bursting with joy at the promise of new life, new hope, new identity?

A thousand different ways.

Or perhaps just a single way.

By rubbing dirt between the palms of hands.

By placing dirty hands under gently poured water.

By listening to a strong yet quiet voice speak these words:

You have been washed clean by the blood of Jesus Christ.

So that’s what we did this morning. Poured water over the brave and beautiful hands of teen mothers while faithful mentors held their babies nearby – and while angels danced and sang for joy.

What was lost is now found. What was blind now sees. What was stained is now clean.

All and only because of Jesus.

…you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (First Corinthians 6:11)

Young Lives camp is over. But the joy of New Life is just beginning.

The other rooms (Michindoh Post 18)

June 27, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is eighteenth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

It takes lots of rooms besides cabins and a dining hall and 9 nurseries to pull off Young Lives camp.

There’s the club room – where in the mornings real people tell their real stories and where at night someone tells the gospel story.

There’s the war room – where every morning the leadership team works through each event and detail and moving piece of the day ahead.

There’s the resource room – where each minute of each day people are ready to provide whatever a mom or nursery worker might need.

And sweetest of all, there’s the quarantine room – where babies who have a sniffle or a cough can rest quietly and contentedly in the strong and gentle arms of a loving and caring adult.

This might be my favorite room of all. It is a picture of a trusting but weary believer who has learned to rest contentedly in the strong and gentle arms of a loving and caring God.

LORD, my heart is not proud;
my eyes are not haughty.
I do not concern myself with matters too great or awesome for me to grasp.
Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself,
like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk.
Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Children of God – put your hope in the LORD –
now and always.
Amen
(A psalm of David for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem)

Transformation (Michindoh Post 15)

June 23, 2013June 23, 2013ckirgiss5 Comments

[This post is fifteenth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

The transformation from middle school camp to teen mom camp is moving right along.

By tomorrow this pile of things will be fully laid out into 1 of the 9 nurseries:

This will be another:

These are 7 of the 50 or so totes full of bedding for teen moms:

These are 7 of the 25 or so work staff who are making beds for teen moms:

This is 1 of the 100 or so beds the work crew are making:

These are 5 of the 50 or so pack-n-plays for naptime:

These are 3 of the 40 or so baby bops for snuggling:

And these are all of the strollers, three rows deep, washed, dried, lined up, waiting for their precious cargo to arrive:

It’s not just another day at Michindoh. It’s Day Zero. And we are almost ready to roll.

O Lord, hear our prayer (Michindoh Post 12)

June 21, 2013June 21, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is twelfth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

O Lord, hear our prayer (Photo: CKirgiss)

Since you asked: yes – a grown man on the right is wearing a Peeps cheerleading suit. And, um, too, a grown man opposite is wearing a chicken-ish outfit.

While praying.

Which we do a lot at camp.

In thanksgiving. In supplication. In adoration. In meditation. In reflection.

With humility and trust and hope.

Because on our own, we can do nothing. Less than nothing if that were possible.

Before each meal: thank you, God, for this food.

Before each event: cover us, Lord, with your guidance and your power and your protection.

Before each club: fill us, Lord, with your love and your Spirit and your wisdom.

Before and during and after and among and around and through every moment of every day:

without your love Lord, we are lost;
without your healing, Lord, we are broken;
without your wisdom, Lord, we are helpless;
without your grace, Lord, we are drowning;
without your mercy, Lord, we are adrift;
without your Spirit, Lord, we are empty;
without your guidance, Lord, we are blind;
without your joy, Lord, our lives are withered.

Without You, Lord, we are not.

Be our I Am. Always. Ever. Fully. Truly.

O Lord, hear our prayer.

Lost and Found (Michindoh Post 9)

June 17, 2013June 18, 2013ckirgiss2 Comments

[This post is ninth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

The busses just pulled out. 350 campers and leaders are on their way home.

We are left here to rejoice in the way we saw God at work – and to cope with the empty space left in our hearts by those who just departed.

It’s hard to say goodbye.

Sure, tonight we might get to relax, and tomorrow we don’t need to rise for an early breakfast. But we will miss the faces we were just getting to know and the smiles we were just growing used to and the souls we were just starting to love.

Those 350 middle-schoolers left behind a deep well of joy and hope and grace and love.

They also left behind this:

. . . shirts and shorts and shoes and all manner of stuff that a middle-schooler may not miss, (but the mother who bought it might).

It’s this way at the end of every camp week. Kids are so busy running and playing and laughing and dancing and hanging out and having fun that lost items of this-or-that often go entirely unnoticed. Unmissed. Unseen. Unsought. Unclaimed.

The items in this pile that are expensive, clean, stylish, and attractive might someday be claimed.

The items in this pile that are ripped, worn, smelly, and dirty will not.

Thank goodness the same is not true of God’s view towards humanity.

He is never too busy holding the stars in place or breathing life into the universe to not notice a lost soul.

And He does not consider any lost soul – regardless of whose it is, where it has been, what it has done – to be a merely this-or-that item, not worth the effort of seeking and finding.

Jesus came not to condemn the world but to redeem it. Jesus came to offer hope to those who know they are broken. Jesus came to show us how to live.

Jesus came to seek and to save the lost. He does not distinguish between those who appear to be clean, stylish, and attractive and those who are obviously ripped, worn, and filthy.

He seeks them all. Unceasingly. Lovingly. Faithfully. Gently.

And when He finds even just one – well, then the cosmos is momentarily shattered by the joy within His heart and the celebration throughout the heavens.

We once were lost. We now are found.

Nothing will never be the same.

(happy) ABBA, FATHER (‘s day) (Michindoh Post 8)

June 16, 2013June 16, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is eighth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

Dateline: Michindoh – Week 2, Day 4.

It’s a typical Day 4 at Wyldlife camp. Except that it’s also Sunday, June 16th.

On this Father’s Day the Work Crew and Summer Staff, who have left their fathers behind for a month, are enthusiastically celebrating the holiday by . . . doing what they do every other day – rising early to start a day of work that will not end until sometime after 11:00 tonight. Were I to list all the details and responsibilities of their individual jobs, you would want to curl up in a ball under your bed covers and take a very long nap – a luxury they do not have.

The work staff welcomes with expectant joy the long days of work, as well as the cramped sleeping quarters, the close communal living, the absence of technology, the lack of significant alone time, the separation from friends and family, and so many other things that would be viewed with disdain in the normal hustle and bustle of daily life back home.

They welcome, and on occasion patiently weather, these things so that a thousand middle-schoolers and a hundred teen moms will be introduced to the Abba Father who knit them together in their mothers’ wombs, whose loving thoughts towards them are too numerous and too profound to comprehend, and who waits patiently yet longingly for the chance to embrace them, put a ring on their finger, new sandals on their feet, and a brilliantly clean robe on their shoulders in preparation for a celebration feast to end all feasts.

They welcome, and on occasion grow weary of, these things so that a thousand middle-schoolers and a hundred teen moms will know beyond doubt that Abba Father, who created all that exists and whose majestic power extends farther than the east is from the west, waits longingly for the moment He can call each and every one of them Daughter or Son.

They welcome, and on occasion have time to glory in, these things because they have a heavenly Father whose love and grace extends to (and infinitely beyond) the thousand middle-schoolers and hundred teen moms they will selflessly (even when battling self-importance) and tirelessly (even when exhausted beyond measure) serve this month.

Depending on one’s earthly biological circumstances, Father’s Day might be a time to mourn or a time to celebrate, a time of painful memories or a time of contentment.

Beyond our immediate biological circumstances, there are no such widely divergent oppositions.

There is just God. Father. Abba. Into the hearts of His children, He sends the Spirit of his Son, prompting us to call out, “Abba, Father.”

We are no longer a slave to the world’s lies or our insecure fears or our own messy pride.

Rather we are God’s own children. His Daughters and Sons. His very own.

What a glorious thing to celebrate today and every other day.

(And to all the fathers we’ve left behind us for a month – we love and miss you truly.)

Legend of the Round Table (Michindoh Post 6)

June 14, 2013June 14, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is sixth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

The famous Round Table of Arthurian legend has got nothing on the infamous Round Table of Camp.

In short, we eat at Round Tables. Every meal. Every day. Banquet tables would hold more people. And they could be set up in neat rows.

But we prefer Round Tables. Of 8 people. Set up in free-flowing pods.

Pre-meal Round Tables are nothing to write home about. They would never grace the pages of a slick home and garden mag.

Adding bread and water livens things up a bit and is entirely lovely since the conversations and interactions that take place at the Round Tables are blessed and consecrated by the Bread of Life and the Living Water.

Pre-meal round table, plus bread (Photo: CKirgiss)

Feeding everyone at all of the Round Tables is not quite as miraculous as feeding the 5000 – but it surely is as beautiful.

Serving the Round Tables (Photo: CKirgiss)

The Round Tables are a perfect place to eat with friends, to look at one another face to face, to be part of a circle that is mightier by far than any group of Arthur’s noble knights.

Being at the Round Table (Photo: CKirgiss)

In a world where Round Tables – or any other shaped tables – are becoming more and more rare, the chance to gather around one several times each day is a blessed gift indeed.

If there is any disadvantage to Round Tables, it is only this: half of the people must turn in their chairs…

Round Table entertainment (Photo: CKirgiss)

…in order to see such momentous upfront events as…

Baby and Baby's Playtime (Photo: CKirgiss) — Baby and Baby’s Playtime (Photo: CKirgiss)

…Baby and Baby blowing Coco-Puffs. Out of their noses. Into buckets. For points.

You might not be surprised to hear that Baby won (with 12) while Baby lost (with 8).

But at the Round Tables, there are no losers. Ever. Each and every middle-schooler circled around each and every meal is loved. Listened to. Cared for. Encouraged. Believed in. Prayed for. Delighted in. And so much more.

The shape of the table matters indeed.

But more importantly:

The hearts of the people eating around the table matter beyond measure.

Each and every one.

Thou rising moon with praise rejoice (Michindoh Post 5)

June 13, 2013June 13, 2013ckirgissLeave a comment

[This post is fifth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

Dateline: Wyldlife at Michindoh, Week 2, Day 1

Today is Day 1, second time over. 350 new campers and leaders. Eight separate welcomes. First round of scheduled rides. First leaders meeting. First all-camp meal. First club. First late-night event.

I’m not responsible for any of it – yet I’m tired just thinking about it.

The second leg of the relay race is difficult. The newness of Week 1, Day 1 is long worn off. The excitement of serving has settled down into the reality of a daily routine. The new friendships and relationships among staff are no longer new.

But these campers don’t know that, and shouldn’t be able to sense that. They deserve all the excitement of the first Day 1, and they will get the added benefit of a seasoned team who already knows the steps to the Day 1 Dance.

We look ahead with excitement. We also look back to learn.

On the last full night of camp Week 1, I saw this miraculous reflection of the moon on a still and sacred lake.

I was reminded of what all Believers are called to do: reflect the love and glory of God as clearly and brightly as possible.

Our attitudes and actions reflect only that which we know and love. It seems to me that there are three possible things to reflect – the world, the self, the Lord.

The first is easy. The second is natural. The third is impossible – on our own.

But still, it is our daily call and our lifelong challenge. As Solomon wrote, “As a face is reflected in water so the heart reflects the real person.”

Too often, the real person we reflect includes little of Jesus. Self so happily and naturally takes center stage.

Still, we pray and strive and strain to do this – to reflect Jesus well so that others see his love and grace and life through us (somehow, miraculously, amazingly).

But reflecting Jesus is not the ultimate goal.

If people only see Jesus as reflected in us, they have gained nothing.

The real goal is that people see Jesus himself.

I saw the beautifully reflected moon from a distance, from high up on the bank, behind a grove of trees. The beauty of what I saw drew me forward, one step, two steps, three steps, until I stepped out from under the trees, looked up, and saw this:

The real moon. The source.

We reflect Jesus so that others can see Jesus, period. So that they are drawn forward one step, two steps, three steps, until they step out from behind the trees, look up, and see the Real Thing. The Source. The Lord Jesus Christ, maker of heaven and earth, lover of my soul, saviour of the world.

Whenever someone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord – who is the Spirit – makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image. 2 Corinthians 3:16-18

Amen. Amen. And amen.

Grown-up Babes (Michindoh Post 4)

June 12, 2013June 12, 2013ckirgiss1 Comment

[This post is fourth of a series in which I reflect on spending a month at camp for Wyldlife (middle schoolers) and YoungLives (teen moms). You can follow by subscribing to this blog below. All posts are categorized as ‘Michindoh 2013’.]

Being a grown-up at camp for middle-schoolers is a rather magical thing. (Also entirely exhausting, but we’ll save that for another day.)

Of the various grown-up populations at middle-school camp, two in particular require an extra measure of inherent childlike joy and wonder – along with a willingness to expose oneself to all manner of ridicule and mess – in addition to limitless wisdom, maturity, and grace.

Exhibit A: The Leaders. These two particular leaders are husband and wife who willingly sleep in separate bunked quarters for a week (one with a group of squirrelly, aromatic, hair-gelled boys, the other with a group of giggly, chatty, accessorized girls – and yes, I admit those are loaded generalizations that are certainly not equally true of every individual member within said aromatic [read: smelly-ish] and chatty [read: what you will] groups).

The Joy of Marriage at Middle School Camp (Photo: CKirgiss)

These leaders – like every other leader here this week – will never get rich doing what they do. They will never get famous doing what they do. They will never advance along the path of commercial success and achievement doing what they do.

Rather, they will be plastered with mud, smeared with shaving cream, dusted with flour, dangled from ropes courses, flung from inner tubes, buried in sand, kept up late, woken up early – and they will Love (if not like) every single moment of it because in the process they will have earned the singular privilege of sharing their lives and hearts with a group of squirrelly and giggly folk that are rarely considered worthy of such time and commitment.

These leaders – like every other leader here this week – are my heroes. I am in awe of who they are and what they do.

Exhibit B: The Program Peeps. These two particular program directors are educated, experienced, gifted men who could each pursue any number of socially approved and culturally sanctioned paths to success. (They are also over 6′ tall, a fact that will enhance your interpretation of the photo below.)

"Baby and Baby" - Michindoh 2013 (Photo: CKirgiss) — “Baby and Baby” – Michindoh 2013 (Photo: CKirgiss)

These program people – like every other program team this summer – will never get rich doing what they do. They will never get famous doing what they do. They will never advance along the path of commercial success and achievement doing what they do.

Rather, they will dress, dance, sing, and speak like fools (beloved fools, to be sure), sacrifice their vocal chords (along with their dignity), expend every ounce of creativity with which their Creator endowed them, get up early, stay up late, eat on the run, stand in the sun, organize the chaos – and they will Love (if not like) every single moment of it because in the process they will have helped create a space in which the similarly exhausted and expended leaders (see exhibit A above) can share their lives and hearts with a group of squirrelly and giggly folk that are rarely considered worthy of such time and commitment.

For every grown-up in the wide world who doesn’t get kids and doesn’t get life and doesn’t get Jesus there is a God-fearing kid-loving grown-up in the even wider Kingdom who does.

Thank God for that. And for them.

Breathe

the blog of Crystal Kirgiss

A three-dimensional gospel (Michindoh Post 20)

Washed Clean (Michindoh Post 19)

The other rooms (Michindoh Post 18)

Transformation (Michindoh Post 15)

O Lord, hear our prayer (Michindoh Post 12)

Lost and Found (Michindoh Post 9)

(happy) ABBA, FATHER (‘s day) (Michindoh Post 8)

(And to all the fathers we’ve left behind us for a month – we love and miss you truly.)

Legend of the Round Table (Michindoh Post 6)

The shape of the table matters indeed.

The hearts of the people eating around the table matter beyond measure.

Thou rising moon with praise rejoice (Michindoh Post 5)

But reflecting Jesus is not the ultimate goal.

The real goal is that people see Jesus himself.

Grown-up Babes (Michindoh Post 4)

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(And to all the fathers we’ve left behind us for a month – we love and miss you truly.)

Share this:

The shape of the table matters indeed.

The hearts of the people eating around the table matter beyond measure.

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But reflecting Jesus is not the ultimate goal.

The real goal is that people see Jesus himself.

Share this:

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