Hello Again, Part 2

"Are you free tomorrow?" I met Jess's steady gaze.

"Yes." She knew what I was getting at.

I smiled. "Wanna do something?"

"Yes." She smiled back.

"'Kay, I'll text you and let you know."

Tomorrow came, filled almost completely with a trip in the mountains, where my grandfather led us through forests to see Colorado's autumn dress for the first time. I opened eyes wide, soaked in glory.

But by the time we got home, it was nearly too late to meet Jess.

I typed out an apology, adding at the end, "I'll be there this weekend!"

She celebrated with me. "Maybe we could talk Friday night at dinner!"

"Sounds good to me," I responded. The weekend would be wonderful.

...

I said it before I felt it:

"There are so many reasons I shouldn't be here."

I wasn't in high school. I wasn't part of Kenosis, the student leadership team taking the retreat. I didn't even live in Colorado, for heaven's sake! I had no right, not one of the three of us had any right...

"But I'm glad you're here," Jess said, from her perch next to me. We were sitting on a brick wall at the retreat center, eating sandwiches and chatting with a bunch of the other girls.

Corban came over. "That hat." She looked across the courtyard at Josh, who was still wearing the same hipster fedora that had rendered him almost unrecognizable on Wednesday. Personally, I thought it looked okay, but--

"It's...somethin'," said Jess.

"I feel like I need to pull him aside, like he does for us, like, 'Listen, I need to talk to you.'"

"You wanna do an intervention? I'll go with you." Jess slipped off the wall. Something in me wanted to reach out and stop her, remind her that we were supposed to be talking.

I kept my mouth shut, laughed at Josh's "Oh really" response to their stepping in.

We had all weekend. There would be time.

...

The Aspen Room. Somehow, the name of our main meeting place seemed appropriate. We gathered together, everybody finding a spot next to their friend or friends. I sat with my siblings. Looking around, I saw relationships had deepened since we left. I knew they loved us, but what if...?

For our first session, a church elder came to speak on leadership. He inspired us, echoing Josh's firm belief that "Youth are not the church of tomorrow--they are the church of today."

"If all the adults in the church were taken away, thrown in prison, you guys could do it," said the elder after mentioning persecution. "It would be hard, but you could do it."

He challenged us to serve as the young people of the early church, who knew what was right for the times. It made sense, made me excited--but I wasn't sure where to use it. I was no longer a student back home. Finding places to lead looked different.

Doubt, always close, grabbed firm hold of my heart.

"Why, God?" It wasn't simply a complaint; I wanted to know. "Why did you bring us here?"

The answer came without emotion, without fanfare, a whisper across my heart:

"For them."

...

"I got the hat!" Jared climbed into the Jeep. Besides the church van, several other vehicles, including ours, would soon caravan to play glow-in-the-dark dodgeball at another retreat center. Josh had given me permission to take Jared along with my siblings.

"Looks good," my brother commented from the passenger seat.

"Ew." I glanced back and saw Jared's wild dark curls sticking out all around the brim of Josh's fashion mistake. It looked decent on Josh; on Jared it looked ridiculous. The others sided with my brother in sarcastic compliments.

"Hey!" Jared waved out the window to the girls in the church van, which was parked next to us.

"Can I come?" Kia called.

"Ask Josh!"

Josh came by, all business, and said something to Brandon, the van driver. He started to walk away. Kia looked frantic.

"Josh! Joshua! Josh!" We all called.

"What?" He whirled around, pretending frustration.

"Can Kia ride with us?"

He looked at her. "Yes, Kia can ride with you."

"Yes!" I pumped my fist as she scrambled happily out of the van and into our backseat. Within minutes, without my knowing how it happened, she and Jared were taking selfies with my phone.

"We should start a band," one of them said.

"Yes! You definitely should!" Kia and I had gotten to sing together a couple of times over the summer, and Jared played guitar. Any band they were in was worth listening to in my mind.

"And that will be our cover photo," Kia said, examining the selfie they had just taken.

Audrey took my phone back. "I'll send it to you."

We spent the rest of the ride singing Disney tunes and cracking up. I loved these people.

...

"What makes a great leader?"

We were back from dodgeball, and the students were trapped in a room without leaders to figure out the answer to this question.

It felt like a time bomb.

Jess, Jared, and Corban sat across from me, bug-eyed with impatience. Next to me, Conner held the empty water bottle we'd appointed as "the talking stick."

"I think we should come up with a definition of just a regular leader," he said, "before we figure out what makes a great one."

Somebody raised a hand. Conner tossed the water bottle. "I think a great leader has to be confident."

Aubrey stood poised with a dry erase marker at the white board. She wrote down "confident."

The water bottle got tossed again. "Write 'great' above 'confident,' and then on the other side start a list for leader."

Confusion. We broke our own rule and everybody started talking at once.

"One list for great leader and one for just a regular leader."

"Nope, nope, put 'great' above confident...and then on the other side write--"

"Just 'leader' on one side--"

"Leader?"

"Yeah, like, just a regular leader, not a great one!"

Timidly, Aubrey did as we commanded.

Toss.

"Is willing to do something themselves. Under great leader."

Toss.

"Servant. Under great."

Toss.

"Decisive. Under regular leader."

Toss.

"How are you guys doin'?" Josh came through the glass door.

We responded with groans.

"Conner, toss!" Somebody reached for the water bottle, caught it, and then started explaining.

Josh examined the situation, amused. "You have established a system for..."

"It's the talking stick," someone announced.

So far that was all we had done right. Josh left us trying again to define the word leader. We talked ourselves in circles, the right track totally elusive. I looked across at Jess and rolled my eyes. While someone was talking, Jess looked through her Bible and showed something to Corban. Corban nodded, and frantically motioned for the talking stick. She caught it and handed it to Jess.

Jess read aloud calmly:

"Titus one, seven to fourteen. 'Since an overseer manages God’s household, he must be blameless—not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain. Rather, he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined. He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it. For there are many rebellious people, full of meaningless talk and deception, especially those of the circumcision group. They must be silenced, because they are disrupting whole households by teaching things they ought not to teach—and that for the sake of dishonest gain. One of Crete’s own prophets has said it: “Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.” This saying is true. Therefore rebuke them sharply, so that they will be sound in the faith and will pay no attention to Jewish myths or to the merely human commands of those who reject the truth.'"

Jess looked up, her figurative mic on the floor. For a moment all was still and we thought we'd found our answer...and then we started talking again. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I raised my hand for the talking stick.

"Can we just define leader as someone who has followers?"

Jared's eyes bulged and he gritted his teeth, furiously trying to hold his tongue. Apparently, he'd been thinking and saying the same thing without a result.

Around the circle, heads nodded. I felt like most of us were in a fog at this point, not knowing what we were truly looking for. Mercifully, Josh came in along with the rest of the leaders. "How'd you guys do?"

A few of us glared daggers at no one in particular.

"All right adult leaders!" Josh said, after a few moments of feeble chatter. "Kenosis is going to teach us about what makes a great leader."

We laughed weakly, and tried to sum up our points. It didn't work.

"If a leader doesn't have anyone following them, are they a leader?" Josh asked.

"No," we chorused.

"No, a person who leads without followers is just taking a walk! So, our job as Christians is to point to the goodness of God, His glory, and lead people to know Him, and love Him. So to be a great leader, that's what you have to be doing."

Jared stomped a foot slightly. "Forty minutes! Destroyed in two!"

But there was one hidden benefit--I had been frustrated with them, and somehow in those forty minutes of frustration, my heart had drawn closer to them than in many of the days I had spent with them before. I thanked the Lord.

...

Next morning, the alarm went off at 4:40. I'd never been on a sunrise hike before, and for some strange reason I'd thought it'd be worth it.

"Ugh." My sister roused herself. "But the rest of sleep is so good!"

I wondered momentarily if I could drive responsibly at this hour. Ah, well, too late now. We loaded the Jeep, I breathed a prayer for protection, and we were off under the moonlight.

The moon was bright over the mountains, the stars far more visible here than in Chicago. The weariness melted into cool awareness.

We arrived early, before the rest were outside, but we could see windows lit and people up. They emerged, zombified but committed, and we set off under a sprinkling of constellations.

For almost an hour, we waited at the top of the ridge, little, softly lit houses behind us, shimmering city in front of us. Slowly, the horizon turned paler blue, then purple, then pink, then orange, until the whole sky was shot with color.

"We switched."

I turned and saw Jess's head in Corban's lap, Corban stroking her ponytail.

"Last night, I was in your lap and you were playin' with my hair."

My heart pinched a little. Corban and Jess had loved each other last time, but something had deepened there. They were always near each other, almost reading each other's minds, leaning on each other hard. I had wanted that for them, we had talked about it...but the reality hurt a little. What if, in being gone, there was never a place like that for me?

It was a selfish worry, but it lingered all the same.

...

"Why, God?"

We were in the second session and I found myself asking again. And again, like the first time, the answer came:

"For them."

It wasn't exactly the answer I wanted.

"What?" my heart complained. "You mean to tell me it's not about all this glorious reunion, about soaking up their attention, about catching up, and having deep conversations, and laughing and crying with them?"

"Love God, love others. Don't worry about you."

It made sense. I was beginning to realize my expectations for the weekend were unrealistic. No one had time for one-on-one conversation--each one was constantly moving with the challenges of being part of Kenosis twenty four hours a day. The program asked a lot of them, and it was supposed to; but rarely did it demand every moment of their waking attention. There was limited time and work to be done.

The only problem was, my time was limited, too.

God began to point out to me that my motivations were wrong. I chose to show up to soak up time with these people--God chose to put me here because He wanted to encourage them.

Funny how someone seemingly so dedicated to Jesus could feel so put off by the thought of dying to my own agenda.

...

"All right, everybody load up, we're going back to Ponderosa!"

"We're gonna do the low ropes course," Kia said excitedly.

There had once been a notion in my head about having the best attitude of anyone on this trip; after all, I had no right to be here--it was a privilege.

That notion was easier said than done, especially when the words "ropes course" came out of Kia's mouth. This day was already hot and sweaty...couldn't I just sit out?

Ponderosa was the camp we had been to last night, set way out in the forest where it seemed like no one existed but us and the people who ran it. The stillness of Colorado held me like a lullaby. One didn't find quiet like this in my hometown. I gazed out toward the mountains, wishing I could stay forever.

"All right, we are gonna do some team building exercises!"

Oh my. Never in my life had I seen that go overly well, and judging by last night...

Josh spread a tarp over the grass. "So, student leaders, come stand on this tarp."

The students groaned, and I didn't blame them. I think I knew where this one was headed.

"We have to flip the tarp with everybody on it," a couple of people said.

I glanced around at who I was near. Abi, Aubrey, Jonathon...I didn't know any of them very well, but here we were, packed together like sardines as Jared pulled the corner of the tarp over and started to flip it. Kia's gentle voice rose above the others, guiding each person in where to stand.

"And if you start to fall, grab onto somebody, don't worry about it being awkward."

Someone tripped and I grabbed her arm to steady her. Team building had more to do with closeness, touch, than I had previously remembered. Regardless of how I felt, or who I knew, I had no choice but to be a part of this group in this moment.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

...

Three hours later, I shook a little from the heat, and exhaustion, and the exhilaration of it all. We had spent the afternoon heaving my brother forward in an A-frame, guiding each other over stepping stones, balancing each other on tight ropes, and passing each other through spiderwebs. We had literally pushed, pulled, and supported each other through the entire course.

And now they brought us here.

"This is the hardest team building exercise at Ponderosa--the fourteen foot wall." A man with a slight southern twang looked down at us with no expression. He was already up there--what did he care that we would have to drag and boost and groan and sweat our way up to meet him?

My heart withered within me.

"Here's how this is gonna work: you can have four people up here maximum. Two people down there are gonna boost. The rest of you will be spotters, so you're gonna raise your hands as soon as the person starts up." He drew his fingers close together. "And make spoons with your fingers, not forks. As you come up, you want your body rigid, no climbin' up with your legs or anything."

As he was explaining, my withered heart strengthened a little, because it hit me--I didn't have to do it by myself. All I had to do was be carried.

Perhaps that was the point.

...

"I want to take twenty seconds of silence and just think of one word to describe this experience."

We went around. Frustrating. Wonderful. Challenging. Everybody had a different word.

Mine was binding.

As I looked around that circle, I saw hearts that I belonged to. It didn't matter that I lived a thousand miles away, or that I wasn't in high school, or in Kenosis. Our hearts were bound anyway; God made sure of that. I did have a place among them, even if I didn't quite know what it was.

Yet.

...

"For them."

But how could that be? Could I really be that much of a gift?

"Jess!" Corban called as I scooted to my seat.

"What?"

"No, Jessica!"

"Oh, sorry." I turned to move on as Jess took her seat.

"Jessi." I turned and met Jess's earnest eyes. We had missed each other at dinner again.

She patted the seat next to her.

...

"Glory to God."

We sang it over and over again, and I felt I should sink to my knees. Fear and pride stopped me. How could I sing these words when I was holding onto myself, to my own expectations?

"Okay." I fell, more than sank, and sang the words. It didn't feel too different.

"For them."

What could that look like? Praying for all of the girls, one by one. It was the first idea that formed in my head. As the night went on, though, I missed all my chances. Practically, what did it mean?

Why wasn't this working?

...

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright, and I woke up an hour and a half earlier than I wanted to.

"More Bible study," came a whisper across my heart.

It wasn't really something I read. More something He spoke as I prayed. "For them. Don't worry about you. Take care of loving Me and loving others." I'd heard all this before, except for one added part.

"I will take care of you."

Of me. Of my expectations. Of my needs. Of my agenda. My job was to be for them because He was for me.

All I had to do for my own needs...was be carried.