Numbers

     Currently I am sitting in the back of a youth group in Manhattan, Kansas. The speaker right now is an RA at my college, named Joe. I'm sitting alongside four other musicans who joined together to play worship for this youth group. As I sit here and listen to Joe's message, I start to think about the size of the youth group. 

     I come from a mega church in Phoenix, Arizona called Christ's Church of the Valley. The average youth size for junior high is a total of somewhere near 700. The high school group is even bigger. They had 2,100 high-schoolers go to CIY, a church camp, this past summer. The group is huge.

     This group that I am here with now is maybe around 50. Not even. All high-schoolers. It blows my mind. I can't fathom a youth group of smaller than 100 people, even. At first thought, I don't see this group as a "youth group" because of my background. But I realize that this is normal for them. This is big for them. This is a giant youth group. And honestly, if you measure their hearts, it is a big youth group. Incredibly huge. They are all here for one reason: Christ. And at the end of the day, that's all that matters. The number of people isn't what's important, that shouldn't be your drive or your purpose; but the hearts of your disciples should be what makes you want to be here. You should be inspired to fill hearts, not chairs, and that's something I'm coming to realize.   

Aging

     Over the past month I have been visiting and nursing home with a group of people form my college once a week. We go to the home, sing a few songs with an acoustic guitar for them, and then continue to go about and talk with all of them to the best of our ability. 

     The past few times I've gone, I've only talked to one man int he home, Carl. He's in his late 70's and holds conversation great. He wanted to go into the army, but when the doctor told him he had a heart murmur, he went off and became a painter. He broke his foot and knocked himself out by hitting a pole when he was riding his bike home one time. He likes Michael Jordan. He really enjoys watching the Kansas City Chiefs play football. He went to Kansas State University for one semester and dropped out because of expenses. He has three sons and two brothers, one older and one younger. He loves the fall and watching the leaves fall down from the trees. His mom always loved the white snow, and it made him fond of winter as well. He used to go to a Catholic church when he was younger, one that he painted when he was working as a painter. He likes to make meat loaf for the rest of the residents in the nursing home.

     As I got to know Carl, I got to thinking about my own life. "Will anyone want to listen to my stories when I'm old and sick? Will anyone care enough to visit me at least once a week? Will I be interesting enough for people to want to listen to me?"

     When I grow old like Carl, I want to be able to have stories and lessons. I want to be able to share what my life has taught me; I want people to care enough to listen to my stories, no matter how boring or how repetitive. Listening to Carl and getting to know all about his life makes me want someone to do the same thing for me when I'm in his position later down the road. I want to give Carl what I want given to me. I want him to know that there is someone on this earth who cares about his life and lessons.