Walking the Commons.

This morning, Mrs. Stone was absent, so I oversaw the kids in 2nd period, helping out a very dissheveled looking sub. I was amazed that these kids (who are usually bouncing off the floors and ceiling) actually listened to me and actually did their work!

This afternoon, I ran into most of them again when I went up to the high school for 6th period. One of the gym teachers asked me if I would walk with some of his girls while everyone else plays group sports.

I laughed hard when, as we were walking up, down, and around the commons, several kids were wheezing after five minutes saying, "We need a remedial walk for the smokers."

It was a very humorous way to connect with students--chaperoning their laps of the cafeteria, but at the same time, they opened up for some great conversations...

Things I did this weekend:

1. Watched the AHS football team squeeze out a Homecoming victory over Marysville-Pilchuck HS, bringing them to 7-0 and #1 in the Division! Enjoyed time spent with lots of students in the band and cheering with them in the final moments, when Arlington eeked out a victory in the last 26 seconds, thanks to a Marysville penalty.

2. Talked with a student about the difference between death metal and black metal, specifically discussing how death metal is okay and black metal is bad. Student informed me about the difference in these musical styles while wearing a shirt with a photo of an exploding human corpse from the band "Cannibal Corpse."

3. Spent two hours with my favorite songwriter of all time--Derek Webb, and his wife--songwriter Sandra McCracken, before their concert in Marysville, WA on Saturday night. Went out to dinner with Derek, Sandra, their road manager David, and three staff from the church that was hosting the concert. Talked with Derek about politics, the Beatles, sarcasm, Viggo Mortensen, and MySpace. Pinched self repeatedly, and then enjoyed a very fine concert. (I will write more about this later. Not today.)

4. Attended three Sunday morning services at Smokey Point Community Church with my boss, Bronco, to talk to the congregation about Community Outreach opportunities at YD in Arlington...(they are currently doing Rick Warren's '40 Days of Community'). Recruited 10 potential mentors for students this fall, which is just amazing, and shared about the ministry of YD with over a thousand people.

5. Spent the afternoon with friend and mentor Dawn, who bought me a very fine Jamba Juice and assured me that next time I have a nervous breakdown, I should call her.

6. Led worship and prayed with fellow 18-30 year-olds at "The Upper Room," the young adults' service at my church. Was very excited to be strumming on my own beautiful Taylor guitar within 24 hours of watching Derek Webb strum on his.

7. Returned home to spend an hour on my own watching new Derek Webb DVD and reading Bob Dylan's autobiography.

Saturday is the day.

Tomorrow is the day that I get to sit down and have dinner with and talk with Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken.

I am feeling all of the following, and it's still 28 1/2 hours away:
1. Anxious
2. Nervous
3. Excited
4. Ready to vomit
5. Overwhelmed
6. Insecure
7. Annoyed that tonight is the AHS Homecoming Game and I can't go see them play in Seattle tonight to take away all of this anxiety.
8. Worried about what I'm going to wear and if I should have got a haircut this week.
9. Thrilled

This is an accurate summary of how I do feel, not how I know I should feel...because, well, it's very overwhelming to think that you can meet this aloof, far-away personality, who has intimately shared in some of the deepest, darkest parts of your life but doesn't even know that you are alive. What do you say, "Hello Derek, my name is Heather. It's nice to meet you. Did you know that on several occasions over the last six years, you have challenged, encouraged, and supported me through very dark and hard times, and I don't know where I would be without you."

That sounds like creepy stalker talk. Instead I'll just be like, "Um, so, who's your favorite Beatle?"

Meltdown.

On Monday afternoon, October 10th, at 2:30pm PST, Heather Michelle Baker commenced a full-out meltdown. This meltdown lasted for approximately 9 1/2 hours, stopping only to spend time with a few teenage girls at "Monday night knitting/crafty-type things" Group.

What happened? I'm not exactly sure. Suzanne speculated it was hormones. Lizzy called it a "Mental Health Day." All I know is that I was balled up on the couch crying for nothing and everything simultaneously.

I have felt on the verge of tears for months, since a few significant relationships ended, since finances got tighter, since I began returning home to an empty apartment every night, since I left the company of at least 30 people I love and cherish who live on the other side of the country, since Grandma and Grandpa came to visit and left.

So apparently, on Monday, my body submitted and said, "You will cry. It will be a long and exhausting time, and at the end of it, you still won't understand why it happened."

In the last six weeks, I've definitely been feeling like the novelty of being on a grand adventure has worn off, and I'm sitting here asking God why I am 2500 miles away from things familiar and centering. I've also realized that I've been away from Southeast Ohio longer than I have in my entire life, and I always miss it most in the fall, when I should be able to look outside and see rolling hills in bright red and gold.

I think that doing ministry away from a home base is difficult and risky, because although there are people who are here who care about me and who would do anything for me, when it's Monday night at 9pm, and you want to cry for no reason, it suddenly feels like home is very far away.

No worries, though...the telephone is a partially adequate substitute, and with a bit of long-distance late-night counseling, and a good night's sleep, morning brings a lot of clarity. Heidi even offered last night to sit on the phone with me while I'm watching TV, if I'm feeling horribly lonely.

It is in times like these that I cling to the Word--and this week it is Philippians 1:9-11, "And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God."

I want that--to be filled and overflowing with love that would bring knowledge and insight to help determine what is best.

There is no easy solution to the internal turmoil I am facing, other than, to rest in the knowledge that God does know, and He does care, however quiet He seems to be.

If I were to write a coherent blog...

My brain is too full, and I am too distracted. So...if I were going to write a coherent blog today, I would write it about one of the following five topics:

1. How great it was to spend the evening with one of my girls in Seattle on Friday. We checked out some thrift stores, dined at a Mongolian BBQ, and I was introduced to the "musical" stylings of Arch Enemy, a female-led death metal band (eugh..). I felt like I had finally settled in for the year to do my job and that I would no longer be expected to travel across the country away from my kids.

2. How great it was to have Sarah Helderman over for dinner last night. That's right--Sarah Helderman, formerly of 3G--Taylor University, circa 2000, was in my apartment. She is at SPU in an MA program, and I am thrilled to have a TU friend within 45 minutes of me.

3. How great it was to lead worship at The Upper Room last night...The Upper Room being the Young Adults' Service at my church I wrote about a few weeks back. It's been two years since I played guitar publicly...and I really just love worship-leading...

4. How horrible it is to be exposed to IKEA on a Saturday afternoon. My friend Sarah (Ristow. Not Helderman. Must find friends with names besides Erin, Sarah, Suzanne...it's too confusing.) and I braved this amazingly overwhelming too-horrible-to-be-called-a-store while searching for a loft for her new bed for her new apartment. I maxed out about 45 minutes in, and Sarah found me sprawled out on a twin-sized bed, my nervous feet pushing and pulling a shopping cart laden with inexpensive housewares while I called Janelle to say, "HELP! I'm in IKEA, and I can't find my way OUT!"

5. How it took me an hour last night to dig my mailbox key out of a couch crevice. The mailbox key slipped in last week, and I've been unable to check my mail, because my couch was apparently designed by Nazi Engineers or Chinese Finger Trap Designers. After trying an array of options like coat hangers, vacuum extenders, and bruised forearms, I had to do the old, "Put the couch up on one end so it's eight feet high, shake it a lot, make slashes with a knife in the bottom, and pull at a lot of stuffing" routine.

6. (Okay. I apparently have more than five thoughts). How overwhelming it is to know how I, as a little one-income missionary living in Washington, can begin to make an impact on the devastation in the rest of the world. I think that I've been trying not to think about the people in the Gulf or in Kashmir too much, because I ache for them so much, and I want to help, and I want to do more than pray, and I don't know what else to do.

7. How last night, after six of my friends left (having come over for dinner and church and dessert), I lit a bunch of tea lights and read Galatians only to discover that my dear brother Paul was plagued with a sin struggle with sarcasm, as I myself am. In Galatians 5:12, he's talking about circumcision, and if I'm reading it correctly, it sounds like he's suggesting that those who are fixated on upholding the law should get a little less careful with their knife and do a bit more damage. My eyes about bugged out of my head, and I said, "Paul! I can't believe you just said that! Dat be funnee."

If I were going to write to you today, maybe this is what I would write about.

Caramel Apple Cider.

It's dreary and dark lately, meaning that for the next 2 1/2 months, it will only get drearier and darker.

Since I was feeling dreary and dark enough to match the day, I combated it with a Caramel Apple Cider from Starbuck's. For whatever reason, today, I was a bit repulsed by the Caramel Apple Cider. They are soooo sweet! It's very sad when a dependable autumn upper does not taste good.

Tonight, I am taking two students down to Seattle for a bit of shopping in the University District and maybe a late-night Pink Floyd or Beatles laser Light Show. Pray for us...

National Youth Workers' Convention 2005.

Picture the scene: An auditorium packed out with 3,500 youth workers from around the country, huge speakers blasting praise music from Chris Tomlin's and David Crowder's worship bands, watching skits so hilarious that we nearly pee ourselves, all for the sake of gathering together as people committed to Jesus Christ and sharing His story with teenagers.

This is what I have been up to the last six days. The 30-hour round-trip van ride would have been enough to make me crazy, had it not been for the wonderful company of the eight ministry folk who shared the van ride with me. Pastor Nathan and I zealously fought our way through Super Mario Brothers, Teresa and I took turns beeping in during Joel's time on his cell phone, and we all enjoyed sharing ministry stories of both hilarious and sad natures. It was like, a youth group road trip minus Corn Nuts and caffeine highs.

During my time in Sacramento, I experienced amazing worship music from several top-notch worship bands, jammed with my favorite 'christian-type' band--Kutless, and heard some amazingly challenging sermons and seminars from guys like Louie Giglio, Tony Campolo, Chap Clark and Mike King on topics such as "Worship," "Christians in Politics," "How to Last past Year Two" and "Presence-Centered Ministry."

My favorite evening, though, was probably spent in the company of no one in the Prayer Chapel, in which we were literally able to talk with God and listen to Him while sitting at the foot of the cross. The speakers and the entire tone of the weekend gave me so much to think about, that by the end of night four, I was skipping concerts and seminars just to give my brain time to rest.

The two biggest themes that stood out? The whole notion of calling...
who and what we're called to in ministry, and how that affects longevity.... and also the whole notion of being authentic and genuine in my interaction with kids. (photo on right is me, Joel, and Teresa pictured with Joel's affirmation he left on the wall for us. It read "Heather and Teresa are the coolest chicks I know (Besides my wife).")

I have no formed ideas to share really, other than it was a lot of food for thought and provoked a lot of good discussions with my eight PNW ministry friends on the way home.

And so, do I recommend Youth Specialties' National Youth Workers' Convention?! Um, if you've spent, like, five minutes with a teenager ever, then the Convention will be insightful. It's geared mostly for those working with teenagers in the context of a church, but it's not specifically designed for full-timers. In fact--it seemed like the majority of the seminars were geared towards volunteers in ministry.

And...with all the fun stuff and the free stuff, it's hard to think of it as a convention. It was like, camp for youth leaders. Nice.

Driving down the 101...

Tomorrow at six in the a.m., Bronco and I are road-tripping with eight other YD Staff and youth pastors for six magical days in The Golden State.

We're going to Youth Specialties' National Youth Worker's Convention in Sacramento get to spend four whole days in conferences and workshops and concerts. I get to do things that I'm certainly thrilled about--like going to Mass, seeing Kutless live, and learning more about how to train a team of mentors this fall.

I'm sure there will also be plenty of opportunity to get hip and relevant youth-ministry program-type knowledge, like, how to write 3-point sermon based on Shrek or 572 ways to use peanut butter to communicate the gospel...but I will probably skip those sessions in order to go see Tony Campolo get all red-faced while debating about the Arian heresy or something. Maybe I won't even do that because I'll be too busy name-dropping to build clout with guys like Doug Fields and Duffy Robbins. Wait, probably not that either...but six days with thousands of youth pastors? It's bound to be insane.

"California, here we come. Right back where we started from. Californiaaaaaaaaaaa."

~Phantom Planet

Clueless.

Yesterday at an AHS lunch table, we were talking about people looking younger than they are. I asked a few girls if they thought I could pass for a high school student, and they said yes. To prove my point, I imitated a very high schoolish voice and said something irrelevant like, "I can't believe Jenny is going out with Tommy. Eugh. She sits next to me in Spanish, and she's always talking about him like it's some big deal." I then turned back to the girls and said, "How was that." They say, "Um...it's a bit too early 90's. You sound like you're starring in Clueless."

"But I was in high school when Clueless came out." They just smiled and nodded and said, "Yeah, we were in the third grade"...and suddenly I sensed a looming generation gap.

The Upper Room

For all of the things that I do joke about and mock--one thing that I never ridicule is my personal need and personal longing for intimate worship. Since moving to Washington, I have found it in bits and spurts and so-and-so's church here and so-and-so's group there...but it's never been anything that I've found consistently fulfilling. This leaves me feeling isolated away from God a lot of the time, because it's so difficult to reach Him through the means I have available in Arlington.

About a month ago, I received a letter from one of the Associate Pastors at my church saying that the church was beginning a Young Adults' service on Sunday nights for 18-35 year olds. I was thrilled--because I have been craving this kind of service so badly that I was preparing myself to make weekly commutes to Seattle to find it. I've been wanting to be a part of a vibrant, young community, and I've also been wanting to be a part of a service that offers solid teaching and reflective worship, both of which I do not find at my church on Sunday mornings.

I thought that this service would be different. So I went in anticipation, climbing the stairs up to the newly painted and lit "Upper Room" and spent two hours talking, drinking coffee, listening, praying and worshipping with about twenty other 20-somethings from my church community.

And I was filled...and I began brimming...and suddenly I was overflowing...

At our Youth Pastors' Networking Meeting next week, I'm going to share with our group about the first Covenant Bond of "The National Network of Youth Ministries," which is Personal Holiness. The covenant bond says that I claim that in accountability to God and my co-laborers, by faith my life will be characterized by "Personal Holiness before God and others, which is established in Christ and expressed in daily life through prayer and commitment to the Word of God."

A week ago, I might have expressed to my fellow youth pastors despair over my own ability to live out Personal Holiness on a daily basis...I mean...I have such ebbs and flows in my spiritual life where there are weeks that go by and I'm seeking God out everyday...and there are weeks that go by where I don't do it at all--but today, things are different.

According to Gary Thomas's Sacred Pathways, I seek God best through sensory input--that I want to see/feel/smell/taste/touch the presence of God...and for some reason, ingesting traditional prayers while taking communion, smelling the flames of new candles, while sitting in a room so beautiful and intimate that I want to bring in my sleeping bag and curl up on the floor and never leave rejuvinates me spiritually in a way that it can feel like I wake up and see my world through clear eyes for the first time in months. Is this what personal holiness is characterized by? Seeing our lives through the eyes of God?

I do know that for all of my mentoring and discipling, I have at last found a spiritual home in a place where there is a pastor and a community who want to pour into me--challenge me, prod me, teach me. And I am thrilled. Last night, when Pastor Greg started talking about the Gnostic heresy that led to the church at Ephesus's request to John to write a gospel account, I thought the extra wrinkle in my brain was going to release a flood of endorphins to my body and overwhelm me with a joy I have not felt since days gone by when I'd take notes during the sermons of Richard Allen Farmer and Jay Kesler at TU Chapel.

In two weeks, when I return to the service, I will pull out my Taylor guitar and lead my group of fellow pilgrims in worship through song...and for the first time in months and maybe years, I will look at my life and say that it has balance.