7.23.09

This morning started with early morning classes and ended with breakfast for dinner and a shower (I’ll be honest…it’s been a week). It was fabulous.

In classes today, I began teaching my original lesson plan using the verse in Matthew where Jesus tells the Pharisees that tax collectors and harlots will enter the kingdom of heaven before them. Students were receptive but confused by it. Their hang-up was that Jesus said that the immoral would not enter the kingdom of heaven. I didn’t really have a good answer for that, to be honest. I said something about how the lowly in the community, like harlots and tax collectors, were willing to admit their need for God, their desperation for a way out of their bondage while the Pharisees arrogantly pushed conviction aside. Which is true, but doesn’t really address their question.

So I switched my lesson plan, on the fly, half way through the day.

Instead, I decided to just tell them Bible stories. I know, it seems petty, like Sunday School stuff. It’s not theology or doctrines or a new way of thinking… to us. But it is to them. I told them the story of Esther (I was just really excited about telling it again after telling it to my Bible study girls) and the story of Tamar. The Esther story was such a thrill for them. they have never been that quiet in class! Even one boy who is usually quite the trouble maker in the tenth grade was shushing other students so he could hear the end. At the end, when Mordecai got to take over Haman’s house and position, all the students stood up and started clapping.

Then I told them about Tamar. Now there’s a story that doesn’t get told in church. I don’t blame pastors either. How do you explain how a woman was sold as a wife to a violent man who God eventually killed, and then the brother who was supposed to “do his duty” for his brother wouldn’t, and God killed him too, and then the last brother was too young to get the job done, and when he was old enough wouldn’t and so God killed him too. Then, the father, who’s now in charge of the situation, sends her home to her father’s house full of shame and reproach. So, Tamar, being the good little Jew that she was, dressed up like a whore and seduced her father-in-law, Judah, and got pregnant by him that way instead and took his staff and family seal as a promise of payment for her services. When she started to show, her father and brother said they were going to kill her. She said, fine. Let the man who these belong to throw the first stone because the baby’s his. So Judah had to take care of her because now he was the one who had committed adultery and not her. Oh, and Tamar’s son got all his inheritance because his sons were all dead. AND Jesus came from her family line. So cool…

I asked them what they thought. They said they had no idea stories like that were in the Bible. Like I said earlier…Adventure.

This afternoon was the suicide meeting. Like is said, over 60 students asked to attend. About an hour before the meeting, Anzette came to the house asking when the Bible study was. I told her to come again in an hour, but she seemed hesitant to leave. I asked if she wanted to stay until the meeting. No, she said she would come back, and she ran away. About thirty minutes later, Vanessah came. I told her she was early but asked her to stay. She did, but when she realized that Bethany had students over for tutoring and Natasha had students baking cookies in the kitchen, she got very nervous. She wondered if they knew why she was here, what the meeting was about. I told her no, she shouldn’t worry about it. But she did. We sat in the empty dining room for a long awkward silence. I asked if she wanted something to drink. Water. I told her to come with me to the kitchen. “No miss. I’ll sit right here.” She was so ashamed, my heart hurt.

Anzette came back at the 3:30 and joined us. Both girls sat quietly on the sofa while I opened in prayer. I don’t think I can emphasize enough the same that wracked their young faces. Eventually three others joined us and we opened in prayer. I warned them that I didn’t have the answers or solutions, just my story. I asked they would rather ask me questions or for me to first share my story. They opted for me to share my story. And I did. I barely made it though without tears running all over the place. It’s not that it’s bad or sad or anything. It’s just that while telling it I was reminded again of how strong Abba’s grace has been toward me. He has been present with me in every dark moment, every lonely thought, every lie of the Enemy. He has been my Comforter, Counselor, Healer, Defender. I cry because He is still so near to me. Even now.

I talked about Tonya and how I blamed myself for her death. How I felt like I should have done more, could have done more, to save her. I told them how I discovered that I was no savior, that I wasn’t God, so I couldn’t be responsible to save or change anyone. The Holy Spirit prompted me to remind them they were not to blame if a friend, sibling or parent kills themselves; it is not a reflection of their inadequacy as a friend, sibling or child or a reflection of their parents love for them. I hope they never need to heed that advice.

When I was done sharing, they all left quietly. No questions. No comments. Just silence. They only said goodbye. This meeting was absolutely not what I expected, but I have a quiet peace about it. Like the silence in the room I feel a silence in my soul; for the first time there are no accusations of what I could or should have done better, no frustrations over not having the answers. I think that’s actually what the girls needed today. They needed someone to say that it’s okay to struggle, to hurt, to be lonely. They needed to know they’re not alone in their pain, that what they are feeling is not ugly, but something God wants to make beautiful. And they are.

The most beautiful girls in the world were at my house today. I’m honored to call them my friends.