I love students and their creativity and uniqueness.
Ok, maybe I don’t always love it when some of the student’s creativity comes out in the middle of a very intentional program or at camp during the exact moment that the one kid who never says anything serious asks you if he could sit down and talk to you, but at the 50,000 foot view I love their creativity.
One summer, the group I was leading went to a Group Workcamp week where we would join 400 other students from across the nation to do light repair work on homes, be challenged to move forward in our relationship with Jesus, and have a ton of fun. This particular summer I had been looking forward to for a couple of years. We had a great group of students who had come together throughout the year and they were ready to make an impact in the community that we were going to serve. I had been praying for this group of students that God would do something major in and through them. At the last minute, a parent called me and asked if his son could come with us. The student was an ok guy, but he was an adamant atheist and would openly mock anything Christian. During the past year, I had many conversations with him about God, the human condition, the Truth about Jesus, and the reality of what Jesus had done for us. Each time he would challenge everything I said and was completely uninterested in having an authentic conversation about God. As I thought about the possibility of him coming to camp, my expectation of this being a great week, suddenly shifted from being a great week to a week that would be spent mostly making sure Dan, the student, didn’t make too big of a distraction.
Only because I thought it was the right thing to do, did I agree to have Dan come with us. On the 12 hour drive to camp, the leaders in Dan’s van had to confront him multiple times on his language, on sharing his opinion on drinking, drugs and what kind of sleeping arrangements should be acceptable for church camps trips. As the week continued, Dan provided an endless supply of extra entertainment, but was respectful of other people.
Every week, Group Workcamp would have a talent show on Thursday night where students could audition, and if chosen, they could perform in front of everyone. To audition they needed to get their group leader’s signature for approval. The second night of camp I saw Dan waiting for me by our room because he wanted to talk to me. My first thought was that God had broken through and that he wanted to talk to me about God. As I approached him, my heart sank, as I saw the talent show form appear from behind his back. My mind was racing as to what he could possibly be wanting to do in front of 400 students. Dan proceeded to tell me that he was a juggler and that he had brought some things to juggle. I was curious and asked him to show me. He pulled out of his bag a hammer, a caulking gun, and a paint brush. He then began to show me how he could juggle those items behind his back, under his legs, and standing on one leg. I was impressed. This was going to be awesome. And then he said, he wanted to take it to the next level and to do that he had also brought knives, torches, and chainsaws (at least he was kidding about the chainsaws). I told him that I suggest that he audition with the tools and then if he got accepted we could talk about the knives and torches. The next morning I was up early and checked out the list of people selected for the talent show, and of course Dan’s name was on it. Within minutes he was sitting next to me asking me for permission to use knives and torches. I talked him out of the knives (and then confiscated them) and told him to think through whether the torches would be safe and responsible.
That night as it became Dan’s turn to juggle, he looked nervous so I thought I had dodged the impending uncomfortable conversation, but then as he started juggling the tools, the crowd of students went crazy cheering him on. And then Dan and I locked eyes, he gave me a smile and went to his bag on stage and before anyone really understood what was happening he pulled out his torches lit them and started juggling the fiery spheres. Of course the crowd went nuts cheering him on. He was an incredible juggler and knew how to work a crowd. I cheered him on, knowing that the rest of my night would probably be spent in the camp office apologizing for what had just happened.
The program ended and we went to meet as our church group. Everyone was talking about the juggling act, but Dan didn’t show up to our group meeting and we had no idea where he had wandered off. As the group time ended, Dan came out of the building and came straight to me. He asked if we could talk. I wasn’t ready yet, but I knew I couldn’t say no.
His first words were, “I did it!”
I replied, “yep, you sure did.”
He said, “No, I really did it – I gave my life to Christ.”
I was speechless, then skeptical, then hopeful. All I could utter was, “What happened?”
Dan went on to tell me that as soon as he got done juggling with fire, he felt like he had done something wrong, so right after the program, he had went up to the MC of the camp and apologized. Dan said that the MC looked him in the eyes and said, “You are forgiven.” Dan told me that it didn’t make sense to him why the MC had forgiven him because, Dan had clearly done something wrong and went against what was right. Dan said he had been spending the last 30 minutes asking God if he was real and if He was would He forgive him for all the bad stuff that Dan had done. Dan went on to tell me that He had felt that God had told him that He loved him and that He could be forgiven. Dan said, “I’m not sure I did it right, but I prayed to God and told Him that I believed He existed, that Jesus was His son, and that I wanted to be forgiven.” He said, “I feel like a new man. I’m lighter. I’m at peace. I want to tell everyone.”
I think I mumbled something like congratulations or way to go as he ran off to tell more people what had just happened, but internally I was being humbled. My expectations for Dan were that he would be a joker and that he would never have a serious encounter with God during camp and that is how I had treated him that week. But as God only can, He showed me that the best gift came in the unexpected juggling of flaming torches. God has taught me over and over that His best gifts come in the unexpected people, timing, resources, conversations. I am learning to not let my expectations limit what God can do. I have learned to be on the lookout for where God might be showing up next.