The March retreat went well. I entered the planning period begrudgingly, convinced purity events are hypocritical and sexist (or at least one-sided). They are, a little, but not nearly so much as I myself am. It was a pretty hard weekend for me. Not because of speaking, but because it made me realize where my heart is, and how far that is from where it should be.
According to recent studies by Columbia and Yale, 89% of teens who pledge to remain abstinent until marriage end up breaking those pledges. The average abstinence pledge, in fact, only delays a signee's first sexual experience by 18 months.
These are teens who have not only heard the abstinence message but agreed to adhere to it! On the one hand, I feel like, "What are these kids thinking?" But then I have to stop myself, because, of course, I know, and I've thought the same things and if it hasn't led me to identical conclusions it's only incidental.
Spring has been immensely crowded. For Easter we had a big outreach party at Sunday school, quadrupling our regular attendance and sharing the Easter story with nearly 100 kids. And we've gotten six new kids in our after-school program, which brought our numbers back up to maximum (20 kids for three adults). Short-term teams have started trickling through the church every few weeks, helping out at after school or with construction projects. When I'm not at church, I'm babysitting and tutoring as much as I can to raise money for myself. Oh, and one of my closest friend's here is getting married (to her highschool sweetheart, our worship leader!) two days before one of my best high school friends in St Louis, and the former's been holding weekly meetings to prepare. Another friend and I are planning her wedding shower (just a few weeks from now!).
Everything's happening at once. Weddings, pregnancies, births, deaths, layoffs, desertions, personnel changes. Even on the quieter days I feel like I can't quite catch my breath. And it just gets busier! Thankfully summer is my one familiar season here, and although it's going to be more frantic this year than ever before, the familiarity calms me. On the few pretty days lately (spring is consistently dreary here), I'll catch, for the first time in months, a smell I associate with Brooklyn summers, and I instinctively stop, smile, pull in the scent as much as possible. I spent seven years longing for the few weeks I could spend here each July, and now I LIVE here! Year-round! I don't know for how long, but that fact is enough for now. I know God put this place in my life for a purpose, and brought me back summer after summer - for this! I can't waste it.
Although I have a community here, it's hard to not feel alone. I have little training for what I'm doing, and less support. The church - my favorite church in the world and a small representation of the global Church - is in turmoil: we're between pastors, completely broke, and not communicating well at all. I'm extremely prone toward isolation, but I want to fight that instinct. Please pray that I would have courage beyond my character and wisdom beyond my ability. Like I said, the retreat showed me the state of my own heart, and really this entire year here has. I am a hard-hearted creature, a stiff-necked people like the Isrealites. But my hope has become Ezekiel 11:19: "I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh."
Please pray that I'll "do what is right and not give way to fear" (1 Peter 3:6). I'm not scared of the neighborhood or for my safety or future of anything like that. I am scared of people, though - of getting close to someone and letting them see what an ugly person I really am. I'm selfish and I don't want to be bothered, you know? But I need to take my hands out of my pockets and play, like my mom always urged me to as I played basketball as a kid.
