Tell Them

My husband and I slid along the cold pew, followed by two of our four precious kids, sighing a relief that we made it on time. We felt a bit like superman, ripping off our retreat clothes at home just fifteen minutes earlier, as we quick-changed into our chapel attire, spritzed cologne and perfume to mask the cabin odor, and whisked the kids from Nana to head off to chapel.

My sleepy eyes, struggling to stay open after only four hours of sleep, scanned the room looking for other superhero colleagues. Yes, they all made it. And it looked most of the students pulled off even a shower with their fresh Sunday best, too.

My mind and body was reeling from the whirlwind. We had just spent less than 48 hours with fifty teenagers on a weekend retreat in the pouring rain. Fifty teenagers who voluntarily opted to spend the weekend listening to Biblical teaching, worshiping the Lord (with really LOUD music...yes, I am getting old!), and participating in team building activities and games that would have made me run for the hills when I was their age and caused me to stay at a safe distance as the self-appointed photographer!

I had never been on a youth retreat nor have I ever chaperoned an event like this before. In my ten years of working with teens, most of my interaction has been with students in situations where they are "required" to be present and follow the schedule or rules. What a contrast to be with a group of teens that were visibly happy to go with the flow, yield to the structure, and soak in the instruction before them. I witnessed fifty independent thinkers wisely opening their hearts and minds to the input before them--from their caring peers and adults committed to their well-being. I can't help but think that is how God wants us to be with Him--individuals with free will, not feeling confined by His structure, but liberated to explore His wisdom, love, peace, grace, and power within it.

Watching these kids worship the Lord and relate to one another was a gift like no other. In a world that is blowing apart at the seams, in a culture that is depraved and seemingly hopeless, I stood by watching lives changed and hope secured. It was not a mountain top high retreat. There was no altar call. The tears were quiet and private. But the sharing was real. The struggles were personal. The challenges we all face became universal.

Before my throbbing heart and racing mind, the light of Christ shown brightly in our small groups as individuals were living out their significant part a members of Christ's church. Before me, I saw the total joy of the Lord, as I believe He must truly feel it, to see His children raise their hands, bow their heads, sing out before a Holy God, calling to Him to purify their hearts and answering the call to tell the world about it.

As I was sitting in chapel, thinking and praying and thinking and praying, I scribbled this note to my husband...

"I'm so thankful to live and serve here, even though it is hard."

He smiled. It was a different Elisa from years ago. A different peace. An acceptance that life is sometimes hard, but hard isn't always bad. Sometimes God will pour down His love or His discipline, like the rain that came this weekend, but both are meant to purify and wash us clean.

A few minutes later, I scribbled another note to my beloved...

"God says a woman shall be saved through childbirth. I think that is true for me, and also as a spiritual mother."

Being a chaperon this weekend, sharing my life with these kids, facing my own insecurities and vulnerabilities, looking back on my past as a teenager, all brought me to a new understanding of God's redemption. He does save us. From ourselves. But for His glory and purpose. It has been through living my life at this school, through working with kids, which I never wanted to do, and having four children, which I never even dreamed of, that God has brought me both to the least of myself and the fullness of Him. None of it is possible on my own strength. But in Christ, and through Christ, and because of Christ, I have been given the privilege of sharing the Good News of His amazing, wonderful, and extravagant grace with others. Not only do I bear witness to that in my own life, but I get to experience it over and over again.

We learned a wild worship song this weekend by Hillsong called, "Tell the World." It is loud (really loud) and intense, but it is also powerful and challenging. The call has been put on my life again. Tell the world -- tell them that Jesus lives. Tell them, my own children, as I sit around the table with them at home. Tell them, at school when I share a meal with my "other" kids." Tell them--everyone--as I write and as I speak. Tell them. Jesus lives.

“who has saved us and called us to a holy life—
not because of anything we have done
but because of his own purpose and grace.
This grace was given us in Christ Jesus
before the beginning of time...”
2 Timothy 1:9