Can't touch this.

I've been debating on what to write for the longest time. Since I wrote last I've been all over the island, from watching the sunrise at Jamaica's highest peak in the Blue Mountains (a 7.5mi climb up in the dark), to snorkeling 30ft deep reefs of the sea on the north coast near Ocho Rios (which included a sea urchin inspired panic attack!). Volunteers and best friends have left, new visitors and students have come and almost gone. Reading Camp classrooms have been put away--but the significant change we saw throughout all age levels lasts on! I've even made my first bumpie (a shorter, sweeter banana) bread which was a yummy success.

All that being said my heart keeps coming back to many realities and truths that have been uncovered in the last few weeks. The ones that go beyond the surface level. A week ago Sunday I was part of a discussion that breached the surface level of the community and this culture. In less than 45 min of a morning my bubble burst, forcing me to see beyond the basic physical needs of hunger and thirst, beyond the sight of ragged clothing and unfinished housing, beyond the poverty and lack of education that overrun this community. Instead, I saw into some of the brutal truths, haunting pasts, and cultural superstitions and values that continue to tear apart this community and its people--many of whom I'm coming to care about.

It's a tough reality to face when you realize your sense of peace was largely out of ignorance. You're not going to like this, but I'm not going to elaborate on what was said or what some of those hard truths were. There's a lot of turmoil and tension and emotional hurt going around right now, but unless you are here, living through it and being apart of it it'd be unfair to you and to these people to try to explain. Even living through it, I have to trust that God sees His bigger picture that is far beyond my understanding.

Needless to say, I was in this funk last Sunday morning, thinking that things will never change. These people are too stubborn, the devil's minstrations too strong, these 'standards' to embedded in generation after generation. Why am I even here if nothing will change? Maybe our worlds are too different, American vs. Jamaican, white vs. black as they say!?! These thoughts crossed my mind as we rushed to church, already late, and yet one more thing I dreaded as our small Ridge Mennonite Church has for years visibly lacked consistent growth in more ways than just members.

Wouldn't you know God tends to work the most in moments such as those?

Church that Sunday was so packed I struggled to find a seat. Upfront, a resounding group of more than 20 young men were singing these simple words:

The splendor of a King,
Clothed in majesty.
Let all the earth rejoice,
All the earth rejoice.
He wraps himself in light,
And darkness tries to hide.
It trembles at his voice,
Trembles at his voice.

How great is our God,
Sing with me.
How great is our God,
And all will see
How great
How great is our God.

Now add in some body swaying, hand waving, "hallelujah" and "amens" and you got a bit more of the picture I stumbled into. It was hard not to be immediately drawn in and feel the room come alive. These words were not just from one of my favorite songs but also a solid reminder that we serve a great God who is so much bigger and higher than the darkest of things. He knows not only exactly what I need but exactly what this community needs as well . . . and in the moments it all seems impossible, He is making it possible.

To see young men up there was almost as impacting as the song. We lack a lot of male role models and leadership in our area. This has a huge impact on our youth, especially the young men. As a church we generally have 1-2 males in attendance, the majority female and young kids. This particular Sunday, I continued to watch as that big group of guys got excited about a future men's conference entitled "Boys to Men in Christ." (And this was after getting called out by a few of the sisters running the service on respecting women, sexual morality, earning trust, etc!) There aren't many guys I know period, especially in the age range of 13-18yo, who would get excited about anything holding the title 'Boys to Men' . . . yet there they were hootin' and hollering revved up to go.

The service continued on with a sermon from Daniel 6,the story of Daniel and the lion's den. I've heard the story a hundred times at least just as you may have, but this Sunday it didn't matter. God used a familiar story and animated speaker to make a few solid points that struck home to my heart. . .

• Daniel was faithful in his duty, even in the midst of hostility. And God protected Him.
• If you live as Daniel lived, you're going to face opposition. Yet God rescued Him when it seemed impossible to.
• Daniel was fervent in his prayer--3x/day--even when opposed by the law and rulers his faith stayed strong.
• Daniel was not afraid to take risks for the Lord. He wasn't afraid to die. In fact, he didn't even put up resistance when they threw him in the den to die.
• When you live for God the devil will oppose you, but God is greater than him and all things of this world. (In the speaker's full animated voice: "Can't TOUCH this. I'm TOO hot to handle.")

It all seems so straight forward, nothing I haven't heard before, right? Thankfully, our God is a gracious and patient God and doesn't mind reminding us of these things again and again. I'm not sure what messages the rest of the room got out of all of that, but I know God knew how to get right to me that day.

He's always there, even in the things we consider so little. It turns out that the youth camp who'd used the school property (and thus our church) for the week had stayed to have one last church service. I can only praise and give glory to God that they did!

Following the sermon around 30 young people responded to a call to the front of the room, publicly making a statement that they were willing to be different, to make a difference in future generations . . . that "Can't touch this. I'm too hot to handle!" . . . starting with their actions, their dress, their respect for each other, their love for the Lord today. Around the room, as the pastor prayed over each of them, a few quietly filled the air with gentle reverberations of 'How Great is Our God'. What an end to a Sunday service, and a beginning.

Who's to say what will happen to those youth, or what has happened since. I can but pray they stay strong and true to the commitment they made that day. Whether or not they do make a stand to be different, they already were a light in my life and a reminder that we serve a great God. Changes like that and the ones we face everyday down here in this often brutal reality life, those changes can't come from me. Those changes have to come from a much higher source.

As the service concluded, the youth were reminded that they needed to head straight back to their dormitories to pack and clean up. Lunch would be held at 1:00 and they'd only be served if their rooms had been inspected and cleared of the last piece of trash and dust. Cleanliness = Food. Not so different from my own years at youth camp. It's in moments like those that our worlds don't seem so different or far apart at all.

I have hope in what I'm doing here. Hope in facing opposition. Hope for the future and the unknown. Hope in things unseen and the risks taken. Hope in knowing that God is at work in, through, and behind the scenes. And the devil, well, he can't touch this.

For in this hope we are saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.    Romans 8:24-25