Spring Harvest and Anti-Cynicism
It’s easy to be cynical.
I have just spent a couple of minutes briefly casting my eye over a few of my previous blogs. And now I’m slightly worried that you might think I’m just a grumpy old man with a distaste for running, Mother’s day cards and worship music.
While I stand by all my views on these topics, I felt that this week might be a good time to write about how life is great.
I have recently returned from helping out with the 11-14s at Spring Harvest. Now, I know what you’re thinking; spending a week without much sleep, looking after irritating, hyped-up teenagers, under constant threat of being called up to take part in a game involving being covered in horseradish or something does not sound like fun.
But you would be wrong. Actually, no – you would be completely correct. That sounds horrendous. But that’s the point about cynicism. It’s easy to see things that way.
In actual fact, I had an incredible week.
I got to jump around stage with my guitar turned up really loud, alongside a great band, for a worship leader with magnificent facial hair. I played extravagant, late-night games of ninjas on the beach and intense, noisy (and then suddenly silent) games of crazy Uno.
I saw one Baptist minister preside over a wedding ceremony between two stuffed ducks and another flawlessly perform all the moves to S Club 7’s ‘Reach’. I also got newfound respect for Baptist ministers. I helped put the world to rights. I ate pizza. I watched Will Fairbairn eat a spoon of marmite.
I saw teenagers go out of their own way and get out of their comfort zones to raise money for those less fortunate than themselves. I saw them come out of their shells. I saw them encounter God. I saw little sparks of new life. The glowing embers of potential.
And in amongst all of this, God himself was up to His usual mischief. More than I realised, probably. Sometimes in bold, obvious ways – one girl was healed after 2 years of sinus pain. Sometimes more subtly – leaders getting alongside hurting kids. Praying for them. Listening to them. Weeping with them.
That’s the Lord.
It still blows me away that He would choose to use a bunch of Christian yobs that find flag-waving and the deliberate mispronunciation of the word chalet hilarious.
Life could be a whole load worse.