This...feels like home.

It happened. That unexplainable moment when you suddenly feel like your house just became a home. It doesn't last for very long, but last Wednesday I stopped just long enough to soak it in and stand in complete and utter joy and peace while simultaneously thanking God for blessing me with my family,my job, my house, and for the memories from last Wednesday night that will last forever:

A few people silently using all their concentration to come up the that perfect move in a close game of Blockus in the dining room. Two handfuls of people shamelessly dancing their hearts out on the living room floor to ridiculously funky moves trying to get the best score at just dance.

A few people lounging on the couch playing twenty questions and just "being". The occasional kid running through the kitchen to get another handful of chips and fresh strawberries. A cup of soda spilled on the floor. Seven of us against Maximus running and diving as fast as we can to try and get his toy tire from his mouth, and failing miserably that we laugh so hard we cry.

Watching priceless expressions as each person rides the zip line in our backyard, hearing the cheers of approval for their successful attempt, and even louder cheers for the not so successful. Practicing worship songs on guitars outside in spite of the wind trying to blow away all our papers, not having enough light to see all the chords on the pages, and trying to change the chords we don't know to ones that sound like they fit.

Sitting in a huge circle around the fire pit singing and learning hymns. A moment of group reflection mixed with really funny insight by one of the younger kids as we all listen and unsuccessfully try to remain serious. Roasting smores, guitar sing- alongs at the top of our lungs, huge dance party under the lights on the back porch, and laying on the grass in a huge pile to look at the stars. This...feels like home.

Memoirs of a Lock-in

"Are you ready for this?" "Is there anything I can do for you?" are usually the first questions parents ask as they sign an event form and toss a bag of Doritos on the counter at the beginning of a lock-in. Immediately there are shouts from five directions welcoming their child as well as one crazy teenager who comes flying through the air in the attempt of giving an "extreme high five". As they hug their child goodbye and quickly make their way toward the door, they meet my eyes with a look of pity, hesitation, and the hint of a smirk, and float out the door to their night of freedom.

Now, I understand for any normal person, walking into a sea of noise and pandemonium of such proportions would immediately initiate a reaction of taking cover in fear of one's life, or running in the opposite direction at full speed.

Youth leaders are not normal. We walk toward the noise...grinning from ear to ear.

The things that I always remember most from lock-ins or any youth event for that matter are the things that are totally and completely unplanned. On this particular night, what started as a few friends taking a picture together in front of the gray backdrop in the Sunday School room soon turned into a full blown, fist pumping, three hour, spinning light and disco ball dance party. (It's always nice to have random party lights just sitting around from a previous youth fundraiser.)

At one point there were about 32 people standing around Casey (a particularly gifted Jr. Higher attending her very first youth event) screaming "Go Casey, Go Casey, GO!", as she gracefully swept the floor with her crazy awesome hip-hop moves. I don't know about her, but I will never forget her first moment in the spotlight.


Above: About fifteen minutes into dance party, before lights and disco balls


For those of you who have never been to a lock-in, or you have repressed the memories, it is really quite entertaining once everything is up and running.


The Great Bambino
It began with multiple massive games of sardines; one of which, Stephen (my husband), won the "Hiding spot of life" award after successfully hiding in the most ridiculous place I have ever seen. We had been looking for a good fifteen minutes, and were starting to get a little worried, when one of the student leaders who wasn't playing told me where he was hiding. When one is playing sardines (a game where one person hides, and the others try to find him/her and hide in the same location) one always looks around, inside, and underneath everything. Rarely does one think to look straight up. I mean at the ceiling.

Now that I knew where he was hiding, I had the pleasure of getting to watch the look on people's faces as they finally figured out where he was. Stephen somehow managed to lay horizontally on top of the tallest bookcase in the library. He had carefully placed dusty books and a metal stand of some sort on top of himself. At this point, one person would come in, realize where he was, make a face of utter shock and awe, and immediately fall silent to watch the next person come in. By the end there were 32 people standing in the this dark room in total silence, mouths open in shock of what they were witnessing.

I don't know if you have seen the sandlot, but the moment was a lot like if all the boys from the sandlot: Yeah-Yeah, Squints, Timmy, Tommy, and the rest of em witnessed the Great Bambino hit a home run. I am quite positive that this game of Sardines will be one of the greater moments in EYC lock-in history.

As the youth director, I was just about to go into a speech of why
(mom voice) "hiding in spots like that was dangerous, and how I don't want anyone to attempt anything like that ever again", when they erupted into a standing ovation of such magnitude that at this point I couldn't help but smile. After all, this is my husband we are talking about. The truth is they all know they need to be careful when hiding, and they all know Stephen well enough to know he has good judgment and wouldn't have done it if his safety was at risk. Every face in that room was lit with knowing appreciation, for we had all desperately attempted many times what Stephen achieved that day. It was clear to every single person in that room what was happening. He was now the Great Bambino of sardines, and we were all beaming with pride.


Cape of Invisibility
I know some of you our there have wondered from time to time and have even asked me, "So what do you guys do at these things?"

Excellent Question.

I will now attempt to give a description of what this lock-in would have looked like had you put on an invisibility cloak and walked in at say about 2:00 a.m.:

You walk in to loud music, laughing, and shouting coming from your left; that would be the dance party. You continue on to the parish hall see lots of people, but hear absolutely nothing. Upon arrival, you cannot actually get through the door because there are two people frozen in the doorway looking really very serious and in ninja-like positions.
WARNING getting in the way of a Ninja Warrior tournament is not only dangerous to you and others, but those in the game take it very seriously and will probably ignore you if you ask them a question. Ninja Warrior requires full attention, and other opponents can use any weakness as an opportunity to win the game.


Above: Ninja Warriors don't play, they fight

Sigh. So you go around through the kitchen, which is strewn with half empty soda bottles, half eaten pizza slices, and enough chips to feed an army. Upon entering the parish hall, straight ahead are more Ninja Warriors and some others just watching the final battle. To your right is an eight person domino tournament, and with exception of the occasional grunt or snicker, the game is played in mostly silence.




In the far corner are a few very frustrated boys surrounded by three television sets, none of which they can get to work properly so they can hook up the Wii.



Off to the far left one student leader sits feverishly doing college homework...Surrounding the piano you see large posters of what looks like well-written Biblical poems of some sort, Bibles, and recording equipment. You hear a faint noise coming from the EYC room down the hall, and make your way there. On the way, you see two dark rooms labeled "guy stuff" and "girl stuff" (which have been quarantined for those wishing to sleep), in which there are a few people passed out... not on the empty couches...no...but in some random, uncomfortable, and inconvenient location like in front of the door to the snack cabinet... You finally make it back to the EYC room to find five or six half asleep trying to stay awake for the end of the second movie.
One of those is your kid, curled up in the corner of one of the couches next to three empty bags of popcorn. On your way out the door, you glace over to the hallway next to the dance party and notice two girls laughing hysterically while repetitively rolling down the hallway that is on a slight incline. As you walk out the door, you trip over the bag of burnt popcorn that was placed directly outside the door as to not set off the smoke alarm.

In a lot of ways, I think lock-ins are a rare opportunity to enroll yourself in a human experiment. Get a bunch of highly energized people, lock em in a church, and see what happens.

They make movies about this stuff. We see it in the context of scary movies or psycho thrillers, and the people always come out very different (normally for the worse, if not dead.)

Now imagine the flip side of an experience like that. One where there are lots of positive things set up throughout the night to help form relationships, have adventures where everyone wins, team-build, and just have tons of fun with a community of brothers and sisters in faith. Count me in.

Easter egg hunt...Peter Pan style

I have a confession to make. Until this year, I have gone on an Easter egg hunt in my parent's house. I never got Easter baskets, but I would be lying if I said I didn't look forward to that 15 minutes each year when whatever "kids" were at my house (brothers, Stephen etc.) would race around the house hunting for eggs. Playfully pushing and sabotaging each other was half the fun, and we always just poured the candy into a collective bowl in the end anyway. But there is something about that hunt, that experience that was so intense as a kid, that somehow never stopped being a blast.

This year I guess I turned some kind of corner because this was the first year I didn't go on an Easter egg hunt.

This past Sunday all the youth diligently helped me hide eggs for the little kids at church. I couldn't help but notice their eyes light up as they watched the kids run around, tripping over each other to get as many eggs as they could, watching the parents literally point out the eggs to the kids to help them, and get kinda jealous as the little ones opened their eggs and stuff their faces with candy. Now I knew exactly what that felt like because that was me only one year ago, but I had a feeling a lot of the youth had not gone on an Easter egg hunt in a very long time.

So I decided to give the youth their very own big kid Easter egg hunt. At first I thought that they might think it was stupid, but honestly, if their reaction was anything like my brothers and mine when were were 20 something, I would have achieved my goal. I can't tell you how much joy it brought me to make them stand behind a line and savor the moment as they jumped up and down waiting for me to say "GO!". Suddenly, right before my eyes, they were all five again, and just as determined as when they were in grade school to get the most eggs. Watching them tonight actually transcended any feeling I have ever had going on an Easter egg hunt myself. That is when I knew I wouldn't go on Easter egg hunts anymore. Not because I am too old for them...never...I will probably not go on them anymore because I would rather give the gift to someone else; particularly teenagers because it is so fun to help them rediscover their youth.

There are some things that you just never get to old for. By that I mean, there are some things that never stop being exciting. Going on an Easter egg hunt falls into this category, right next to Birthday presents, dressing up for Halloween and getting a Christmas stocking. Now I am sure that there are some people that hate presents, turn away kids on Halloween and don't do Christmas stockings...I am not talking to those people.

It kinda reminds me of Peter Pan I guess, and the idea that a youthful spirit has nothing to do with how old you are on the outside. I don't know about you, but as for me, I always want to keep the window unlocked just in case Peter Pan decides to show up.