With everything that has happened in the last week God has really been opening my eyes turning my world upside down. Working in the inner city, there is always that risk, the unknown, in that we don't know for sure how much time we have with these kids. And God has just been pushing me to live in the moment. How many times in my day do I say, oh well in a few hours I can go home and watch a movie, or hey this weekend I get to sleep in. The answer, more times than I'd like to admit. And although I love my kids, I miss the little moments with them. It's a constant struggle not to allow my work to become just a job, or just a routine. Because, like I said, we don't know how much time we have.
At church last night, I listened to a sermon on 1 Corinthians 4. The pastor talked about submission to authority and although he was talking specifically about the church submitting to appointed elders and whatnot, his ideas and understandings really spoke to me. We all have authority whether we like to admit it or not. I for one struggle with authority. I don't like being told what to do, in fact, I get all huffy when I am. But God really spoke to me in 1 Corinthians 4:7-"For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?" In my head I see the work I do from my perspective. I see me being the one who is working from 7-7, I see myself being the one exhausted, the one who, as cocky as it is and as prideful, the one who is making the difference for people. And I think that's why last week was so hard on me. I started asking questions like: Am I really making a difference? What could I have done or said differntly to him? Did he know he was loved? Did I do all I could? But God humbled me in saying, you know what Brittany, yeah I'm using you to be in these kids' lives, but I gave that to you. You're not doing anything...I'm the one who is working. I realized I'm not the one in control. I can't make a kid come to know God, I can't change a parent's ways of thinking, I can't control anything. God is that authority and like 1 Corinthians 4:7 said, who am I to think I'm making a difference all on my own.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My little buddy...
How do you react if someone you love is hurt? If someone you love is taken away? If someone you’ve come to see grow and progress, dies? Are you angry? If so, with who? With the person who was responsible—and if that’s the case, then how do you pinpoint that? So many things contribute to a single situation. Do you blame yourself for not being there? For not protecting them? Do you get angry at God?
I’ve asked myself all these things at some point or another during the past couple of days. One of my kids I’ve worked with now for a few years was killed on Sunday night. It was a horrible way to die and even more horrible that he was only seven. I can’t say I’ve had a lot of experience with losing people in my life, but it’s ten times worse when its someone so small, so innocent, so in need of love and protection. I remember growing up, when bad things happened, I used to get mad at the world—I was the one who was wrong, the one who got screwed, why was this happening to me? I still find myself asking these questions every once and a while but I’ve also come to know that God can use my mistakes or my hurt and pain for His glory.
In mourning for the loss of my little buddy, as much as it hurts, as much as I just want to stop crying, stop seeing his little face, stop feeling sorry or guilty, I know deep down, God will use this.
He was such a loving kid. He would follow his brothers, who cared for him like he was there, to the ends of the earth. He loved to color, to dance, and he wanted to be a soccer player. I remember he would come in, run up behind me, and give me the biggest hugs. He was my little buddy and he would be the first one to let anyone know that. “Hey, you, that’s my buddy,” he’d say.
So why’d this happen? What’s wrong with a world who takes away such an innocent life, which has just begun to live? Why is there more news about shootings and killings every day than about people building each other up? Why aren’t kids safe in their homes—safe with the people they love?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. I can’t begin to think of a justification for our world—or a reason why people do the things they do. But stuff like this, stuff that cuts deep, that penetrates me soul and every fiber of being—this kind of thing pushes me to work harder. I want to value every minute I have with the kids I’m able to work with. Because, who knows what tomorrow brings? Who knows how much time we have to influence and share love with the ones we have?
To me this just shows how important the work I’m doing really is. It prioritizes me life.
So today I pray for my little buddy’s family. I pray for all of those who have lost someone. I pray that God will use people in their lives to show them His love, to not get discourage or angry. “Let not the needy O Lord be forgotten, nor the hope of many be taken away!”
I’ve asked myself all these things at some point or another during the past couple of days. One of my kids I’ve worked with now for a few years was killed on Sunday night. It was a horrible way to die and even more horrible that he was only seven. I can’t say I’ve had a lot of experience with losing people in my life, but it’s ten times worse when its someone so small, so innocent, so in need of love and protection. I remember growing up, when bad things happened, I used to get mad at the world—I was the one who was wrong, the one who got screwed, why was this happening to me? I still find myself asking these questions every once and a while but I’ve also come to know that God can use my mistakes or my hurt and pain for His glory.
In mourning for the loss of my little buddy, as much as it hurts, as much as I just want to stop crying, stop seeing his little face, stop feeling sorry or guilty, I know deep down, God will use this.
He was such a loving kid. He would follow his brothers, who cared for him like he was there, to the ends of the earth. He loved to color, to dance, and he wanted to be a soccer player. I remember he would come in, run up behind me, and give me the biggest hugs. He was my little buddy and he would be the first one to let anyone know that. “Hey, you, that’s my buddy,” he’d say.
So why’d this happen? What’s wrong with a world who takes away such an innocent life, which has just begun to live? Why is there more news about shootings and killings every day than about people building each other up? Why aren’t kids safe in their homes—safe with the people they love?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. I can’t begin to think of a justification for our world—or a reason why people do the things they do. But stuff like this, stuff that cuts deep, that penetrates me soul and every fiber of being—this kind of thing pushes me to work harder. I want to value every minute I have with the kids I’m able to work with. Because, who knows what tomorrow brings? Who knows how much time we have to influence and share love with the ones we have?
To me this just shows how important the work I’m doing really is. It prioritizes me life.
So today I pray for my little buddy’s family. I pray for all of those who have lost someone. I pray that God will use people in their lives to show them His love, to not get discourage or angry. “Let not the needy O Lord be forgotten, nor the hope of many be taken away!”
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Progress--one kid at a time
Today was one of those days. My last class of the day, which has proved to be my most challenging was well for lack of another word...challenging. One of my kids who had just gotten in trouble in his previous class, came in fuming. He sat down, and within minutes he was throwing his notebook across the room after someone made a simple joking comment in his direction. Now this hasn't happened in a while, so as shocked as I was, I removed him and told him to cool off. Later, after getting the other kids working on their papers, I took him aside to talk. He told me he didn't understand why he had gotten in trouble, he didn't understand why people kept getting angry at him for being angry, he told me he was tired of all the crap that goes on in his life.
I sat down and tried to explain to him that reacting like that as a result of anger just wasn't okay. I told him he needed to learn to control his anger and react appropriately. After class and after all the kids had left my room, he came back in crying. He asked if we could talk. He sat in front of me, this tough 13-year-old boy, crying. He talked about how it seemed that everyone at school was against him, how he gets in trouble at school and in return even more trouble at home, and how no one really ever takes the time to listen to him when he's angry but instead, gets more angry at him. I let him vent for a while about specific friends, just letting him get it off his chest until I heard him say, “I don't know how to control my anger; I know it's bad, but I don't know what to do.” I stopped him and asked him if he wanted to learn. And he said yes. We talked for 15-20 minutes about how we can't control anyone but ourselves—if we want to change, we have to make that choice. I reaffirmed him in that he wasn't a bad kid, everyone get's angry, but it's about how we react and where we go from that anger that defines us as a person. I let him cool off for a bit more and before he left he sincerely thanked me saying, “no one really listens, thank you Miss Campbell.” It touched my heart.
This is one of those kids I anticipate and prepare myself for before class. I expect drama and attitude and to be honest, that's what I get. But today was a break-through day. He talked about his emotions and he just got stuff off his chest. I'm so grateful he trusts me enough to do this, I just hope I'll be able to help him grow. He, like so many others, have my heart. I cringe when I think about the home lives or the things they go through. But I'm so proud when something like this happens. This is God.
I sat down and tried to explain to him that reacting like that as a result of anger just wasn't okay. I told him he needed to learn to control his anger and react appropriately. After class and after all the kids had left my room, he came back in crying. He asked if we could talk. He sat in front of me, this tough 13-year-old boy, crying. He talked about how it seemed that everyone at school was against him, how he gets in trouble at school and in return even more trouble at home, and how no one really ever takes the time to listen to him when he's angry but instead, gets more angry at him. I let him vent for a while about specific friends, just letting him get it off his chest until I heard him say, “I don't know how to control my anger; I know it's bad, but I don't know what to do.” I stopped him and asked him if he wanted to learn. And he said yes. We talked for 15-20 minutes about how we can't control anyone but ourselves—if we want to change, we have to make that choice. I reaffirmed him in that he wasn't a bad kid, everyone get's angry, but it's about how we react and where we go from that anger that defines us as a person. I let him cool off for a bit more and before he left he sincerely thanked me saying, “no one really listens, thank you Miss Campbell.” It touched my heart.
This is one of those kids I anticipate and prepare myself for before class. I expect drama and attitude and to be honest, that's what I get. But today was a break-through day. He talked about his emotions and he just got stuff off his chest. I'm so grateful he trusts me enough to do this, I just hope I'll be able to help him grow. He, like so many others, have my heart. I cringe when I think about the home lives or the things they go through. But I'm so proud when something like this happens. This is God.
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