A Tear or Two

I cried last night. It was the first time in a long time. They were small tears on an emotionally taught face. The conversation was a mix of sadness and joy as I sat and talked with Kent from the end of my bed.

Being out of your comfort zone is hard. Here in Nashville at Rocketown I feel like I’ve been stretched from the first day of work. While youth ministry does not scare me per sec, working with kids whose interests are different from mine has left me struggling to connect. I don’t know anything about being a skater, digging punk rock, or having this awe consuming passion for music.

I love the staff here. They are a California kind of chill, except that they don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done. That has been the hardest thing. I feel at home in a culture that is about impressing others, leaving your mark. But people here don’t care about that. They love you no matter what.

Some people call that grace. I struggle with the idea, not from a theological perspective, but as I’ve experienced it with my friends. It runs so counter to who I’ve been or what I’ve known. My tears, I think, were tears of grace realizing that I am loved, and out of that love Kent, those that I work with, and the kids who come to Rocketown.

My prayer is that I am stretched to be less of my ego and more of myself. To discover who I am when I can’t impress anyone or offer something profound out of my experience. When showing up and trying to love others is all that I can do.

God’s Peace, Eric :p