A Slide Show: ELCA New Orleans Youth Gathering

Reflection is Good!

Sometimes reflection makes you want to cry...a happy-this-world-is-good-after-all kind of cry. Which is exactly what this article did for me.

Open Heart. Helping hands. Memories.

The Best Party With Teenagers I've Been Too

Do you ever sit and look around at the streets as you take a drive on Sunday morning? I do. What I think is boy-oh-boy there sure aren't a lot of cars out here, isn't anyone wanting to go to church? I begin to realize in these times God just doesn't seem to rate very important, he's second fiddle to the drive to attain materialism, extra sleep, a little league game, an extra dollar with a weekend job...then I stand in the middle of New Orleans and start to change my mind.

The streets here are more than littered with teenage Lutherans they are congested. The few who are in this city that aren't part of the Youth Gathering are amazed. I too am amazed. Not just at how many matching T-shirts can be produced for spectacle but that these young people, and although in a world of billions these 37,000 teenagers represent the hope that God is alive, that his message of hope isn't dying. And, that you can have a ton of fun showing the world.

I have heard the most incredible speakers. Viola Vaughn is one of them-- incredible, passionate woman of heart. When you listen, hear Becca Stevens you'll want to shop her products. Liz McCartney, a CNN Hero of the Year in 2008 makes you realize there is people of true heart and hand in this sometimes sad world-- in which we are all a part of. Nothing, no nothing tops last nights speakers--Spencer West and Michel Chikwanie; a child soldier who had the courage to flee his captures... to over come, to march on, to not be pulled down or back. Amazing stories.

While I sit here, as I am sure everyone is, awakening to the idea that our struggles and woes are sometimes, somewhat minuscule. Realizing hope and love can answer when you trust-- you will prevail.

Just when I was letting that notion settle in deep into my soul...Skillet! Who knew Jesus came with a side of heavy metal. But gee whiz am I glad I know they exist because I have a proper replacement for "Heavy Metal Maddi's" Slipknot. Music of all kinds is being played, from hip-hop to contemporary... and the crowd sings and dances. Not in an ideal rival fashion but in a regular teenage rock concert fashion-- 37,000 plus fill the Super Dome all up on feet rocking out. Fun.
The big reason we have all come is to serve the people of New Orleans was yesterday, we spent the day at Airline Park Elementary school working with kids who's struggles start at home and spill over into the classroom. My little guy nearly six-years old going into the first grade could not, can not count to ten, does not know his alphabet; which means he is far behind the norm. He could however dance like Michael Jackson. How do I know this? The little guy cute as a bug couldn't manage to stay put in a seat for more than two minutes...and that might be stretching it. Then we helped distribute textbooks, others scrubbed desks; all readying the school for a new and upcoming year of learning. It was at our Final 15, what we call the moments we gather together to reflect on the day in a spiritual nature...one of our boys said "I wonder how the guys who spent the day not with kids but instead hauling text books and scrubbing desks, did they get anything out of the day, did they find a "thanks" in the service?" To which I told the story of how I moved a classroom last year at work for a teacher who to this day is rather thankless for my hard work...I reminded [my] kids that those who worked on behalf of the kids and not with the kids did just that, worked on there behalf. It wasn't as much about helping the teacher but making the school readied for the kids, readied for a year of learning. The school we served although not one of the terribly devastated hurricane hit areas and known for being on target with state levels for learning has adopted a population no stranger to poverty and illiteracy. The teacher we worked with told us last school year was a year to hug and love, clothe and feed these new little peoples to the school...now that they have earned there trust they will focus on educating. The question was asked by our service hostess "did you see God in your service?" To which I say yes, in the face of each child longing for hope and a future. (this photo was taken with my camera by one of the students, which explains the off center)

When I think about service I reflect on the sea of orange T-shirts more than sprinkling the streets of NOLA...the visual mark that tens of thousands of people came to restore this beautiful city. What an awesome sight! We are told the work we did in three days would have taken the City of New Orleans three years. That of all the volunteers the city has seen "The Lutherans" have shined brightest-- based on the sheer number of volunteers. What a good feeling!

I cannot on this page dare to touch on all the stories of the New Orleans people we spoke with. I cannot begin to use enough adjective to describe the volume of orange T-shirts presented on the streets which we all wore on those service days. It was an incredible site of love and hope. That is exactly what each person we spoke with said...they may have lost everything but they carried on, they believe in "hope".

Partying Like A Lutheran

To exhausted to tell in words so how about one, two group photos to let you all know I am still around...in the Big Easy...in a sea of Lutheran teenagers.

Holy Chaos--Lutheran Style

I'm in the deep throws of packing. I have clothes, T-shirts of every color and style for a group of ten; I have boxes of breakfast foods, and boxes of books. I have coolers of beverages--lots and lots of bottled water. I even have a gazillion yo-yos for trade. I'm getting excited. Tomorrow morning before the rooster barely has time to drum up a cock-a-doodle-do I will be rolling down the highway on my way to New Orleans for the Youth Gathering. While I pack I start to think about the conversation D and I had two weeks ago...

Around my youngest daughter's neck hangs a silver gold trimmed circle pendant that has her first name engraved on the front and on the reverse side her confirmation verse: Jeremiah 29:11-- a gift from her daddy and I.

As we were driving to church to make copies and chatting about our service event assignment we had just received I looked at her and said "your confirmation verse kind of fits into our service experience". "Not for me" she said. "How about for the children we will be reading to and with, can't you see the message in: For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future? Isn't this what our hands and hearts are opened to here in New Orleans, to show to these young children, these people--hope and a future?" I guess IT IS fitting,” she said. Then we began talking about reading and how it is hard to imagine a time when we couldn't read. We seem to take for granted a skill we posses, that it is just an innate part of our being. Truth is it isn't. It is something we all must work hard to cultivate the skill must be nurtured. For every ten people in New Orleans only three is literate…a very sad but real statistic. I told the story of how in elementary school I was for a time in the lowest reading group, but with the loving attention of good caring teachers and self practice of those learned skills I came to love reading-- all because someone cared enough to offer me the hope with a future so that I should be fit to prosper.

Cultivate. Nurture. Practice. Share. All these words do more than describe our servant area and event at the Jefferson Parish Public Schools. They really attest to the Gathering in the whole. We come to New Orleans to share, practice, nurture and cultivate our faith, our relationship with Christ. And the cool thing is...we aren't doing it alone, we have 36,000 friends in Christ to grow with. While many of us may walk into our service areas viewing, thinking, and feeling--"chaos" all our hands and loving hearts together put a "peace" of "holy" on it. Holy chaos is uplifting, fulfilling.

I can think of nothing better than holy chaos! You?

I also imagine the question on many young people's minds will be-- can we make a difference here, in our short time? If we allow ourselves to step back and evaluate why we have come to New Orleans it truly is a good feeling to know, to hope that our presence and the work we have come to do on there behalf will open hearts to the knowledge; not only [for us] in the sense of education and vocation, but that God does have a PLAN for us all, a PLAN for us all to prosper and to give the HOPE for a future.

So I say...New Orleans or Bust!

There's No Place Like Home, Really Vacation

We'rrrrre hooooome. Of course coming home leads to moments of reflection.

Like these: When we walked down to the beach on Thursday morning our fine sand castle stood intact, which gave us fortuity to expand...until we decided a total makeover and reconstruction would allow our inner artists to dance. Passer-bys stopped to comment on her beauty, some even came to snap pictures, some came to ask how to build a castle of such proportion. Others said they watched from there balcony all day as we built her. A structure built of family fun and love. Is she not grander the second time around? Oh-yes-she-is!

Then we went to dinner at LuLu's. While we waited for our table we sipped "Marina Mama's" from plastic cups while peering around the marina at luscious boats and listening to the band play great tunes that coaxed a sing-along. Then we came back to the beach, hoping to see our spectacular castle glisten under the big bright moon light. Not this time. Either jealous marvelors or no-good teenage sand castle vandals came by and knocked her down. Her beautiful shell enhanced exterior, her perfectly sculpted cathedral staircases and her sea weed roofs were no more. How dare! But it is just sand which means our large pile, the building block, the base of many sand granules was there to offer pallet to a new group of artists to mold and form into a new sculpture of sand exquisiteness.

We are known for taking a day on the path to home and just stopping at an unplanned location...this time it was New Orleans-- a 3.5 hour jog over and across the Lake Pontchartrain bridge. It was actually fun being there, knowing M, D and I will be there again next month for the Youth Gathering...it gave us opportunity to find our hotel, it's correlation to the dome and map out a few dining choices. Of course New Orleans offered a few "oh brother" murmurs as we passed down Bourbon Street-- the whores all clad in there nightwear were hanging in the doorways peddling their stripper delights. Oh dear God! I needed a hurricane in a paper cup after that sight...come to think of it I had one in my hand already, I was in need of a second, as my mind drifted to the 36,000 Christian teenagers who would glance this sight next month. (And there will be no hurricane sipping for this role model on that trip--unfortunately).

The N'awlin's heat. The humidity. It was like Hell. I can only dare to allow myself to think about what it will be like next month. Water, water, water, we will all need to drink plenty. I mean gallons or I will be doling out Tylenol for the heat related head aches like a back door drug dealer. I have made a notation on the info sheet that the Gathering is not supplying water bottles like they have in the past. We need to bring our own, and not just small bottles but big a** bottles.

So while in NOLA we rode the Street Car (don't call it a trolley), ate a dozen yummy beignets at Cafe Du Monde, walked and gazed at architecture, ate a dinner of traditional Cajun and Creole goodness at The Market Cafe before heading back to our cool mod hotel sprinkled with fun art for a dip in the roof top pool.

The next day it was on the road to home. This is was another favorite restroom/gas stop:Jackson MS, Dixie Gas. Exiting the car we four girls bolt into the gas station where I let my eyes dart around looking for the restroom sign. I cannot locate so I ask the attendant, "where is the restroom?" She replies "we don't have any." "No restroom?" "No mam, no public ones." "What the hell kind of gas station is this?" "The old fashion kind" she responds. Then we hoofed it next door to the Shell station (and it's modern facilities) while King Ralph continued to pump that cheap $2.43 a gallon gas. As we all crammed in the single toilet restroom I looked at the girls and said "an old fashion gas station would have someone checking my oil, cleaning my windshield and motioning me to the restroom which requires a key on a large wood block style key chain followed by an ice cold Pepsi in a glass bottle from vending machine." What the hey, does this gal really get the pleasure of a restroom while at work or does she have to pee in the field behind the building? Then the girls tortured King Ralph with Patsy Cline's greatest hits by singing each word perfectly and in perfect harmony. A sign they can only take so many hours trapped down by a seat belt while feet are restrained by M's million over sized purses filled with sttttuff.

Eleven hours and a barrage of tunes and moans from Princess A that she can't handle a drive that long during her waking hours we pulled in the driveway to a happy pouch greeting, luggage to unload and reality that real life has to kick back into gear.

A Mysterious Dinner of Rajin' Cajun Fun

On my breaks from perfecting the Stanky Leg dance-- which by the way when I performed the little musical snack for my fifth grade lunch group of transfer students, my coolness level increased from a six to a ten-- I was whipping up a huge pot of gumbo.

The Rajin' Cajun Cafe Mystery Dinner was the top order of business for the weekend.

Friday we decorated. The kids left light headed from blowing balloons.

Saturday was devoted to cooking, gumbo, and putting on our show. This group of teens (along with Steve and I) are on a mission--to get to New Orleans for the ELCA Youth Gathering--Jesus, Justice, Jazz, in July.

The walk into the church's fellowship hall hit all with an aroma of Cajun spice that filled the air flavored by the sounds of Joe Lovano. Chef King Ralph proclaimed to all in attendance "it's gonnabe good, really really good" (although I cannot imatate his accent on this blog, that drew a huge crowd of laughter and me wanting to wet my pants). We dressed in costumes and recreated a Mardi Gras parade, pelting our guests with candy, between our three mysterious courses. Twelve picks, four choices for each of the three courses. Poor Pastor Tom had a delightful first course of: a mask, a string of beads, three chocolate coins and two Tums (I suppose he was hungry come course two and following our parade to "When the Saints Come Marching In.")

(Steve called this his costume of "gayity" and Chef)

Let's see what the menu really is:
1 GATOR Blue Gatorade
2 CRESCENT CITY Mississippi River Iced Tea
3 "WHAT’S FOR DESSERT?" 2 Tums
4 MARDI GRAS Layered Jello Salad
5 JAZZ IT UP! Red Beans & Rice
6 VIEUX CARRE’ (The French Quarter) Gold Chocolate Coin
7 BAYOU Gumbo
8 PARISH Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce
9 THE BIG EASY Cajun Chicken
10 FAIS-DO-DO (All night Cajun Street dance) Mask
11 ZYDECO ANYONE? (Upbeat Cajun Music) Hush Puppies
12 LAGNIAPPE (a "little extra" something or service for free) Colorful Beads


Sssshhhh! When we finished the third course the parents broke out the red wine in the kitchen to accompany our plates of leftover foods and celebrate a successful feast. It was a heck of a lot of food! And Janice's bread pudding with bourbon sauce...to die for!

Now when I die and go to heaven I want it to look like the Nordstrom's shoe department and have Paula Dean's bread pudding with bourbon sauce waiting for me. God, after five days in New Orleans with 36,000 teens, riding the bus to and from--which will probably smell like fart and man feet...I am not asking a lot, wishing for heaven to be what I dream of it to be. Am I?


I must leave you... I am exhausted. I need to rest my feet. I need sleep. And to prepare to pimp our next funding raiser--Trivia on April 25 (oops seems I started pimping it here already).