The floors are done, the floors are done, good God almighty, the floors are done!

Actually, the floors were done last Friday, but a busy weekend has kept me from blogging about it.  The truth is, I didn’t get anything done in time to have a post ready for Technology Free Friday, Saturday my folks were here, and Sunday is just, well, Sunday.  But that’s the nature of the beast called ministry.

However, the floors are done, and that’s the point today.  And let me tell you, they are glorious.  So glorious, in fact, that I often find myself just staring at them, while my kids run back and forth on them and slide like the guy did in that movie a long time ago.  (No, I don’t know who he is, so get off my case.) So, just like I did in the “Before” post, I’m going to share my thoughts today, but of the after variety.

1.  Sometimes you just need a new perspective.  Seeing our floor ripped up and put back down was pretty surreal, and the finished product is pretty spectacular.  It reminds me that sometimes we as people need change, any kind of change, and that change brings momentum to our lives.  Maybe it’s a new haircut, or a fresh coat of paint on a wall, or even something extravagant like a new car.  All I know is that I wanted the rest of my house to look as good as my floors after they were done and this weekend we went on cleaning spree inside and out.  Change is good.  Repeat it with me (especially you Baptists that read)  Change.  Is.  Good.

2.  Things worth doing take work.  Originally, we thought it would take 2 days to do the job.  It took 5.  Now, before you get it in your mind that I was working alongside my two home improvement gurus, think again.  I did ask if there was anything I could do several times.  Mostly I just sat and watched, listening to their witty banter, but I did notice the hard work that was going into my floor.  Anything worth doing takes effort, and takes time.  Whether that’s ministry, parenting, or working on a floor.  And you can’t be afraid to get dirty or sweat.

3.  We are loved and blessed.  Did I mention that these two men worked 5 days to do fix our floor?  And that all they ever took from us was some water?  That they bought their own lunch, and did a professional job whilst never charging us a dime?  Yeah, well, that’s what happened.  These past two weeks have shown me more about how blessed and loved and appreciated my family is than ever before.  And I’m so thankful for that.  It’s times like this that we hold onto and look back to during the dark times.

Tomorrow, I promise I”ll put up some pictures of the completed project.  I just haven’t taken them yet.  I’ve been too busy sliding across the floors myself.

Last night was one of those nights that I just wanted to throw in the towel.  I mean, last night was great: we had more kids than we’ve seen in awhile, the youth showed up, they were energetic…..but that was also the problem.  It seems like my whole group of children and youth had decided beforehand at some secret meeting that they were going to show up to church and go buck wild.  The vote was unanimous in favor of the buckwildering, and they did a great job.  I came home mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted.

And I shared this with my wife, about how I felt overwhelmed, and about how I felt like I’d spoken to 33 brick walls that night.  And she told me I did a good job, and that she thought everything went well.  So, maybe it’s all just a matter of perspective.

But it didn’t feel right.  I didn’t feel right.  It was flustered and frustrated, and that’s when I checked Facebook on my phone.  I had a message from one of my former youth, that basically said, “I’m in trouble, I need your phone number right now.”

So, I messaged him back my phone number and I waited.

Pretty soon my phone rang and I picked it up to hear a broken voice on the other end.  I heard the story of jail time, ex-girlfriends, and the lowest lows of his life.  And then he asked me:

“Is there any way you could buy me a bus ticket to where my mom lives?”

I’m going to be honest, here.  I wanted to throw my phone.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to say “Don’t you know the night I’ve had?!  Don’t you know that I had to take someone home that was 12 miles round trip and our van was telling us that we had ZERO miles to go before we started back, and that we can’t really afford gas right now?!”

But I didn’t.  I listened, my heart broken.  And though my flesh was weak, my heart was willing, and I did it.
I bought the bus ticket.

This reminds me that my work isn’t done after high school.  Once these teenagers graduate, I’m not finished.  Instead, I’m called to walk with them for a lifetime, providing them with spiritual counsel, practical help, and guidance.  Maybe sometimes I’m supposed to even open my wallet, just like I did last night.  Our walk with people we come into relationships with isn’t for a little while.  We are meant to walk with them for a lifetime, through the ups and downs, the mountains and the valleys.  We are supposed to share joys, triumphs, downturns, and heartbreaks.  Births and deaths.  Birthdays and funerals.  Weddings and divorces.

These relationships were what we were created for, just like we were created for a relationship with the Father.

So today, I’m praying for my friend.  I’m praying he gets where he’s going.  I’m praying he enjoys time with his family, and that he gets his life in order.  But I’m not going to wait on him to contact me.  No, I’ve learned that I need to walk this road with him, so that’s what I’m going to do.

My parents are here visiting this weekend, which means that I’ve been doing some thinking about what it was like growing up in a house with them.  It was a pretty good experience, especially now that I see what some of the kids I minister to go through on a daily basis.  It was a darn good life, and I’m thankful for the memories that I have from growing up there.

Memories like:

- listening to Elvis’ “White Christmas” album every year as we decorated our Christmas tree.

- Friday night Little Caesar’s pizzas

- gas station hamburgers on hot Saturday afternoons

- the sound of the garage door opening as my dad came him from work

- sitting on the front porch watching it rain

- playing on dirt piles while our house was being built

- Easter baskets, Halloween candy, and Christmas dinners

- vacations to the mountains, putt putt golf, and staying with relatives

- renting video games after trips to the doctor

There was so much, so many memories, the list I’m making could go on for ages.  To sum it all up, I’m learning to appreciate my raising, and those memories, all the more as I make my own memories with my children.  I’m hoping they look back like I am one of these days, and appreciate their life as well.

I recently found out something that made me sick.  Seriously, I got sick to my stomach and I wanted to vomit.  Want to know what it is?

Atlanta, Georgia is simultaneously the largest city in the United States for megachurches and child sex trafficking.

Take a moment and read that sentence again.  I’m not sure the gravity of it sank in yet.

The city in the United States with the most megachurches (which are churches having more than 2000 in attendance) is also the city where the most children are molested, sexually abused, and sold into sex slavery.

Does something feel wrong here?  It sure does.

Now, before you click through to somewhere else on the web because you’re thinking this is “just another one of those social justice posts,” I want you to ask yourself a question.  Stop for just a moment, put down your coffee, and think about this:

Are we doing enough?  Are we really doing enough?

And by “we”, I mean Christians.  Believers.  Christ-followers.  Whatever you want to call us or be called.  Are we doing enough?  I think you know what my answer is.  It’s the only answer I think we can have.

No.  We’re absolutely not doing enough.  We’re not doing enough because this still exists.  It is still going on.  Tonight, children will be bought and sold on the streets of this country, and Christians across the same country will complain about the temperature in their churches, or how the pastor’s sermon was too long, or about how the youth pastor doesn’t plan enough fun events…….and Jesus’ heart will break as we let such minor issues keep us from taking the truth of the Gospel into every nook and cranny of our world.

So, what can we do?  Sure, we don’t live in Atlanta, but there are injustices in our own lives, in our own cities every day.  And we can use our voices, our time, and yes, our money, to end those, and those in our world.  Honestly, do we really need our all our wants, when children are sold into this kind of life daily?

I feel like our world is constantly saying “put up or shut up” to us believers, and mostly finding that we’re all talk.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to do less than enough anymore.