Merit Badges
Loving Volunteers, Writing Pain, Determining Worth, and Club Hoppin'
Welcome back friends.
One quick announcement before we dive in this week. I’m thrilled to let you know that I’ll be presenting a breakout session at this year’s Gospel Kids Conference up in Toronto, Canada this summer (June 4-6th). Jared and I were there last summer, and it was one of the most polished and encouraging ministry conferences I’ve ever attended. Great folks, amazing food, well currated speakers and topics, and practical help for folks in the trenches of ministry.
I’ll be presenting on how to use catechism to lead kids toward gospel truth. Catechism’s a word you might not use often, and it might sound a little stuffy or overwhelming (it was for me!). Trust me when I tell you we’ll be boiling it down to simple, easy to use, life-giving ideas and practices that you can build into discipleship at home or a church classroom. I’ll have more details to share in the coming weeks, but registration is live at the link above if you want to beat the heat and come hang out for a few days in the Great White North!
Shameless self-promotion complete. On with the show.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I help lead the Cub Scout pack both our boys are in. I got roped in to help doing a bunch of admin stuff a couple years ago when our oldest got involved. They had folks to run point with each den (age-group), but the gal who’d been organzing all the big stuff like budgets, fundraisers, leader meetings, etc. was moving away and they needed someone to replace all she brought to the table. Clearly they were desperate, and they asked me.
It’s a great group of forty-ish kids, and an even better group of leaders who really care about making this an exciting, skill-building, and fun experience for our kids. Each den works through a list of adventures that are age appropriate with a specific focus (citizenship, fitness, religion, being outdoors, etc.). Some are more exciting than others, but they’re awarded a merit badge for each adventure they complete (they’re actually belt loops now, but that would’ve made for a weird newsletter title). One of my responsibilities is making the trek to the Scout Store to snag all the badges our kids have earned each month.
This is a system I can get behind. Kids get clear objectives, they check the boxes for each requirement, once the adventure is complete they get an award, and they’re on their way to their next adventure. They’re always moving forward. Sure, they may stumble into an adventure they don’t love, or one that requires a skill they haven’t mastered yet, but their progress never stops. They’re always moving forward, and the next step is always clear.
I wish my own discipleship felt as straight forward sometimes. Sure, there are stretches where I’m reading and praying faithfully, locked in as the kids might say. I’m making little notes in my Moleskine journal. Maybe I’m even tossing a verse on my phone’s lock screen. I’m so synced up with the Lord that the sermon I heard last weekend stays bouncing around my brain until Friday. Any league-minimum believer can remember it on Monday, but Friday??? C’mon, that’s high level stuff.
You get the point, right? Some weeks, I feel hyper connected to what God’s doing in my life—the husband he longs for me to be, the father my kids need, the work he’s set in front of me, the relationships I’m pouring myself into, and all the rest. It feels good to follow God in these seasons, like working out after you’ve been doing for a while already. Sure, it’s still work, but it feels good. You don’t mind taxing your muscles when they’re already strong. You may be tender the next day, but you’re certain you’re building strength and the results are obvious in how you look and feel.
Then there are the other kind of seasons, and I’m never sure when they’ll come. All I can see are my flaws. The cold shoulder I gave my wife because I was upset about whatever we argued about, or the screamfest I just hurled at my kid because they didn’t immediately listen or disobeyed in some other small way. My Bible feels heavy in my hand, and my eyes glaze over as I scroll across the passage I’m supposed to be reading. Prayer? Never heard of it. Why would God want to talk to me after the way I’ve dealt with my family this week? That lively group chat full of chatter, encouragement, and dumb reels gets muted. Can’t let them know I’m stressed. You probably can’t relate.
Of course, I know what I should be doing in these seasons. I ought to be opening my Bible faithfully, just like I do when my spiritual life feels fruitful and productive. I ought to be talking to the Father, pleading for forgiveness, seeking direction in how to live, and thanking him for the mercy he provides. I ought to be telling my people how I’m struggling, and asking for encouragement and prayer as I find my way back to a healthy place.
But, to keep the workout comparison going, it’s like going to the gym when you haven’t shown up in years. You know the only way to get stronger is to start picking up the heavy things, but you also know it’s going to be a chore. You’re going to have to push through a lot of barriers (physically and mentally) to even get in front of a dumbbell, much less use it.
In these seasons of feeling disconnected, there are barriers to cross as well. It’s a hard conversation here or there, admitting my sinfulness to myself, others, and the Lord, and seeking the grace to repent and come back to him. It’s putting down the other comforts I’ve run to—the leftover Valentine’s Butterfinger hearts (purely hypothetical!), the Netflix binge, the podcast that pushes away quiet reflection, the cocktail shaker on the shelf, or the late tipoff for my team—and getting back to the feet of Jesus. What I want most is more distraction, but that only ends badly. What I need is a quiet place to sit with God. To read his word, to pray it back to myself, and to listen for him to speak.
If Jesus needed time away to be with the Father (spoiler alert, he did, check out Luke 5:16), chances are I need the same thing. While the need is obvious, knowing what I need doesn’t make it easy. Some days picking up my Bible feels like curling a dumbbell I’m not strong enough to lift. But here’s the thing. The Lord provides the strength each time, but I’ve still got to put my hands on the cover to open it. I’ve still got to open my heart to him in order to unload my burdens and receive his comfort. I’ve still got to carve out the time to for any of this to happen. God’s grace flows freely, and always comes first, but there’s something to the effort of making space for the opportunity and answering the call when it comes.
So, where do you find yourself? Perhaps you’re crushing it spiritually, setting PR’s all over the place in the ol’ discipleship gym. Praise God! That’s incredible. I pray that you continue to be faithful to walk with God in whatever he’s called you to. Thank him for his presence and grace in this season. Maybe you haven’t seen the gym in a long time, and the idea of walking back in feels daunting or impossible. Friend, open the door. Pick up the weight. While that load may feel unbearable at first, Jesus promises that we can come to him in our weakness, and he’ll offer us rest (Matthew 11:28-30).
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
While it may seem counterintuitive, we can thank God in these seasons of darkness and uncertainty as well. Despite our distance, he’s still there. He continues to offer himself to us, to draw near, to forgive our sin, and welcome us back as sons and daughters. Our weakness highlights his strength, and our faithlessness reminds us how faithful he can be. So, whatever it looks like for you this week, find a spot, carve out some time, and dwell on Jesus. Read, pray, listen, and be renewed. You won’t get any merit badges for your effort, but you’ll find the presence of Christ. I need it. And so do you.
Loving Volunteers (Kids and Student Ministry)
“But the secret sauce of showing appreciation isn’t in the grand gestures. Rather, it is in the intentionality of knowing our people and expressing genuine love through relationship and kindness.”
One of the most underrated parts about building a volunteer team is caring for them so they’re excited to stick around. It’s one of those things that seems so simple to work into the normal rhythms of minstry. Yet, if you’re not giving it actual thought and getting it on your calendar and in front of your mind, it’s easy to let it pass by undone as your volunteers begin to slip through the cracks. Lucky for us, Jenny Smith has put together a guide of sorts to help us think through all the ways (big and small) that we can make sure our care of our team is evident to us and them.
She breaks these practices down into three categories—what you can do every week, what you can do regularly (thoughtful touches monthly to quarterly), and what you can do occasionally (grand gestures once or twice a year). Depending on the size of your church and the size of your team, some of these ideas may be easier or more difficult to pull off. That said, she includes plenty of simple relational touches that any ministry leader can work into their repetoire to help volunteers feel seen and cared for. Whether you’re team is bleeding volunteers, or all your servants are locked-in and crushing it, there’s something here for your team to consider. What are some of the big and small ways you care for your volunteers through the year?
Writing Pain (Kids and Student Ministry)
“For some reason, we’re tempted to believe writing should come easily. As if words ought to gush effortlessly from our hearts and minds onto the page. Yes, there are moments like that, times when you’re deep into an article or sermon or book project, and you lose track of time and enter a state of flow. They’re wonderful. They’re also rare. More often than not, the flow comes only after the slog. You won’t arrive in the meadow of inspiration until you force yourself through the thicket of thinking.”
If you’re doing any sort of kids or student ministry, a decent chunk of your week is spent writing. Some of it is banging out innane emails, or responding to a gaggle of text messages from leaders or parents about the whatever event is on the horizon. Most of those you can shoot from the hip. There’s also a sizable amount of more thoughtful writing that that’s required each week. Writing lessons, reviewing policies and procedures, putting together training material, or putting words to the vision and values that’s guiding the work your team is doing.
“But Trey, I’m a pastor, not a writer. How am I supposed to get this work done?” Great question, but I’m probably the last person you should ask. It’s all I can do to bang out a meager newsletter each week. Thankfully, Trevin Wax has you covered with a short piece on how to consider the spaces and places that may foster creativity and a clicking keyboard. You may not be in a spot where you need a writing retreat, but there’s plenty of little things here that can help you initiate the hard, but useful, work of writing for your ministry. Find the spots that inspire ideas and deep thinking, train your brain and hands to get busy when you slip into a particular playlist, or currate a routine at home to get words from your brain to your hands. What are you favorite ‘hacks’ to get your creative juices flowing for writing within your ministry?
Determining Worth (Discipleship)
“. . . Identity is rooted in your cosmic mattering and your existential significance. You are a child of God. You are God’s beloved. This is who you are. Importantly for the purposes of this reflection, your identity is separate from your calling, vocation, and work. Making, monitoring, and maintaining this distinction is vital for your mental and spiritual health.”
This is a little out of the usual range of things I share here, but it was helpful enough for me that I decided to pass it along. Richard Beck serves as Professor of Psychology and Senior Fellow of the Saunders Center for Joy and Human Flourishing at Abilene Christian University. I was unfamiliar with his work (due to my ignorance, not his relevance), but stumbled upon it from one of Mockingbird’s Week in Review posts.
He addresses a younger audience to open this post (he’s a college professor after all), but what he’s writing about is just as relevant to middle-aged adults like myself. What do we do with ourselves when our career blows up unexpectedly? How do we proceed after deciding, 15 years into a career, that what you’re doing isn’t providing any joy or satisfaction? It’s easy to tie our identity to these areas of perceived failure, confusion, or uncertainty about our work. It’s crucial, Beck argues, to be certain of your identity first so that we’re not run into the ground our puffed up to the stratosphere by what happens in our office, factory line, or drive-thru window.
Our ultimate value and worth isn’t found in the numbers at the bottom of a spreadsheet we built, the beauty in the project completed, or the shiny floor we just mopped. We can be certain that our lives have value because we’re God’s beloved children. Thinking about this from a ministry perspective. Your value isn’t in the number of kids your baptized in your church this year (though that’s certainly something to celebrate!). Christ’s sacrifice for you, and the forgiveness and grace you receive through faith, is distinct from the results of your work with the kids and families you serve.
Beck goes on to outline distinctions between identity, calling, vocation, and work. How they’re alike and different, and how we may can find joy in work that we may not feel particularly called to. It’s a short piece, but there is a depth of wisdom in each paragraph he writes. I imagine it’ll speak to you differently than it does to me, but hopefully it’s encouraging all the same whether you find yourself in the middle of a tempestuous work storm, or bobbing along as the sea subsides and settles.
Club Hoppin’
This, but it’s a kids leader prepping for a busy Sunday. “Okay, I need 150 blue marbles, seventeen pounds of goldfish crackers, a giant box of diapers in case of emergency, some island themed stage decor, and obviously, and iced coffee.” Stay safe out there knocking out those shopping lists this weekend!