random camp pictures

crew streetleader starting havoc

 hard at work

 getting dusted by the rabbi

 brothers helping out with recycling. 

 he loved the pasta sauce so much that even when there was no 

more pasta, he just drank sauce!

 Germany day. "Bubbly" making pretzels with the kids

great teaching moment after one of our boys scratched "F*** YOU"

 in a door. The pastor of the church taught him how to sandpaper it 

down and had a great moment to share Christ through it!

First Day of Afterschool Program...

Take a look at our new addition to camp! Our very own music jam area!!

 

Our leaders "testing" out the equipment

One of the new free-time options after they are done their homework! Hands moving too quick to capture with a normal lens!

Mission: Impossible Day 3

Our smallest group the "Little Superstars" sharing the encouragement pictures they drew for eachother. My favourite one was the encouraging picture of a duck and a pig.

Some of our older girls enjoying some fresh apples and oranges for snack!

Olympic Day put on by our great workgroup! The kids had to work together to blow a boat across a water path.

Working as a team to get from one side to the other

The weather got pretty hot. Chilling in the shade.

Each group represented a continent. Here is the fabulous "team Africa" with a very creatively drawn flag

Taking a break from the activities

Two boys with me in the office on time out after fighting. I've been working on the same book with the one on the left for the last couple months in Afterschool Program. Was excited to see him remember a lot of the book today. 

Mission Impossible Day 2

Day 2 is officially underwraps. Here are some highlights from the day:

-we have over 60 kids from the community in our camp. Over half of them are BRAND new to our camp and it is an awesome opportunity for us to continue to reach and serve the community at large

-thanks to many donations we have fruits for the kids everyday. Today we had bananas, apples, and crackers. Tomorrow we will be having apples, oranges, and homemade carrot cake

-today was Spy Tuesdays, where the kids learn how to be spies. That meant today, we had How to Move Like a Spy (ie: Dancing), Making Spy ID's (arts and crafts), Obstacle Course, and Moving through lasers (basically http://youtu.be/FtK2qyQJcOc, except with bells and strings)

-my team of streetleaders, interns, and volunteer group has been AMAZING. Truly an expert team that has been leading the kids and slowly developing strong and deep relationships with the kids

Here are just a couple pictures from our "Spy Tuesdays". Enjoy!

Mission: IMPOSSIBLE

Tomorrow in Rexdale, we start our 6-week intensive summer camp. This year we have over 60 kids, many of whom are new to our program . We are excited for the opportunity, but, honestly, a little nervous to venture into some new territories.

Our theme this year is "Mission: Impossible", which comes from the verse in Matthew, "With man, this is impossible. But with God all things are possible". We will be teaching the kids that God is not restricted by the limitations we have, but can do all things and help us to overcome and do much more than we can imagine. We also see this in our own camp, as things like money, resources, and time seem to never be in our favour. But God provides and he takes control of all the things that are just to impossible for us.

Pray for us, and the rest of UrbanPromise, as this summer I feel is a summer of big things and the devil is not liking it. We have already felt attacks and discouragements, but know God is good. 

Team Victory, lets go...

Camp Victory at Scarborough Chinese Baptist Church

On February 26, 2012, kids and leaders from Camp Victory attended Scarborough Chinese Baptist Church to fundraise for our "Sponsor a Child" project with Compassions Canada. In our attempts to teach our kids about helping others and loving and caring for the poor as God does, we have started a project where we are sponsoring a needy child in Ghana monthly. The money would be used to care for our 9-year-old Ghanian girl, providing things like new clothes and giving her opportunities to attend important things like school.



Our kids put a lot of time in baking cookies and making different crafts such as bracelets, keychains, paintings and flower pots in order to fundraise them off. On top of this, two of our kids went on stage and did an amazing job presenting and sharing to the congregation why we are doing this. As a result, and thanks to SCBC, we made over $900 to support our new friend in Ghana.

Thanks SCBC for the opportunity. Hopefully we will have more opportunities in the future.

If your church is interested in partnering with us in this initiative, please email chris@urbanpromise.com.

walking the line

the thing about waiting is unusual time
to wait from one point to another, is an unusual line
to hold your breath from one word to another, is a unusual rhyme
but the fact is that reality comes with illogical, inexplicable, unusual acts of signs
picture in a frame life in a second
the word from the great minds of the world as they reckon
and imagine the setting and the scene and the place
imagine the faces, the people, and the names
imagine the feelings, the emotions, and the pain
imagine where the same is different, and the same is the same
and you see the giant, massive whirlwind of complexity
that a body needs more to understand than purely intellectually
so remove yourself for a minute and wonder
the confusion of going under
12 months of a year from fall to summer
12 like the apostles, birth the church like a mother
and a mother like a sister, and a mother like a child
birthing understanding out of intellect,
domesticating concepts from the wild
knowing everything from all of history, but since
its been hard to tell the difference between innocence and ignorance
see, innocence is about not knowing you know
about knowing nothing until something unfolds
which is not a bad things, because innocence breeds growth
the potential to create wisdom of potential of old
but ignorance, see, its a much more dangerous weapon
the part of your brain where pride is sectioned
and hate and judgement, not too far off as a connection
academic foolishness and spiritual ignorance at the root of its essence
ignorance is about knowing what you don't know
its about understanding that which you choose not to unfold
see, its about choice, the choice to dismiss
the choice in itself, a conscious effort not to un-gift
so if one could wonder where the state of the world brings us still
why the very methods of alleviating sickness seems to just make us more ill
of philosophical wisdom as said by Socrates
the fact of me knowing is the main distraction in helping me see clearly
but these blockades keep coming up in front of me
thinking mentally like a backwards democracy
more like an aristocracy with foolish leaders
a library of books, but not enough readers
thats why i keep trying to search in hopes i find
lines between light and dark of the safe and cautious lines
cuz i can talk about the dangers of the world like drugs and crime
but i'd rather tackle much more dangerous topics in kind
the things of our interior grind
weapons of the mind
that last through decades at a time
looking on the inside and watching my steps cuz im searching for mines
Lord give me a sign...

hope

In approximately ten hours, the doors of a local church in Rexdale, Etobicoke will be opened to the community and just under 100 kids, youth, and highschool-ers will flood its building, parking lot, and identity. As of tomorrow morning, Camp Victory, along with the rest of UrbanPromise Toronto, will be starting our annual six week summer day camp for kids in our designated communities with the ultimate goal of sharing the love of Christ.

And with an eve of high anticipation and a wide awake supervisor who should have probably gone to bed about 2 hours ago, there is only one thing on my mind.

Hope. It's a beautiful thing.

As I reflect on the past couple months of work in the community, and envision what I, along with the rest of my team, will face both tomorrow morning and the next six weeks, I keep coming back to that one word: hope. Hope in what? Who knows? Hope that we will have a good day; hope that nothing will go wrong; hope that the kids will have a great time, or even hope that some of them will experience God in the program we lead and the relationships they gain. You can have hope in a lot of things; it can cause you to dream big, but can also act as a tracker to how fully realized these dreams become. Hope can give you strength to persevere and to power through anything that may discourage you. Hope, in its true sense, is quite a beautiful thing.

But, parallel to this, hope is quite a foolish thing; it is fairly illogical and highly inconvenient. By definition, hope generally refers to an attitude we take when dealing with something that is lacking; the magnitude of hope increases as situations draw closer to hopelessness. Hope is a state of desperation when reality does not seem to be cooperating: foolish at times because hope can cloud our vision and offer us encouragement and excitement when the tank is completely empty. Sure, hope makes us feel good, it offers us something pseudo-tangible to cling on to when we are not ready to let go. But, let's be honest with ourselves, hope is an incredibly risky, and often false, attitude to take, especially when the situations and scenarios we face which require the most need of some hope often claim victory over that which we "wish" were to come true.

And all that risk, all that chance of failure, all the doubt that obstructs the narrow path of opportunity and optimism: that, in all senses, is what makes hope such a beautiful thing. When the odds are against you, and nothing seems to be going right, when things are looking slim and all reason tells you to give up, that, I believe, is when magic happens. It is not when everything makes sense and when things go according to plan that people are motivated to do great things, be great people. No, rather, it is when the world gives up, doors are shut, backs are turned, and all reality starts to push itself away, and all that is left...is hope; this is the stuff that can inspire people to do more than they are capable of. Hope is a foolish and irrational attitude to take, realistically, a flimsy hub to stay grounded with. But no one makes a successful movie about the man with the 99% chance who prevails, but about the 1% that overcomes.

So when I think about all the kids that will be coming through those church doors tomorrow, playing the game we run, eating the snack we make, and singing the songs we lead, reality tells me its not worth it. Reality urges me to analyze the situation and cut my losses while there is still some benefits left to reap. I look at the community of Rexdale and it hurts to see how damaged it is, how cycles of poverty and violence ridden the streets and minds of its habitants and question what difference does a summer day camp have on the grand scheme of things. Reality tells me to not get too excited and to not invest or commit too much because the chance of failure and defeat is too great.

But there is hope like you wouldn't believe.

And when I say there is hope there is huge hope. I'm talking kids becoming social activists, joy filling the streets, the media rushing to the hood to discover what true peace is. Sure some of the hope myself and my other leaders have is supported by psychological and sociological evidence, some of it is even rooted in past experiences in which hope did prevail. But I would say that most of our hope is rooted in the plain, simple fact of hope itself. That we have hope because we can have hope; because 1% is still 1% and until it ceases to exist, that 1% holds the weight and potential of its 99% counterpart. Because even when the world has turned its back on our kids and our community, and it is hard to see victory from our shackles, there is a glimpse of daylight.

And that daylight, no matter how big or small that glimpse may be, to us, all we can see is the sun.


Our team of Camp Victory leaders for Summer Camp 2011

happy hour

Now if you ask any of my close friends, I don't waste my money on stupidness. What I mean by that is that when it comes to money and overspending, it's not that I am cheap, but when it comes to things I don't need, or things that I could find cheaper somewhere else, my wallet is shut tight. I think this is due to a mix of my upbringing, convictions in my faith, and just the fact that I don't think I need to drive a Lexus when most of the people I know struggle to have sufficient bus fare in their pockets.

So, Starbucks is the last place you will find me.

That is, except on Mondays. Monday is my day to get work done, rest, reflect, and just get some end and odd jobs done before the week really gets going. I have been searching for a nice coffeeshop of some sorts near my house for the last couple times but my efforts have been with little success. Of course there is Tim Hortons, but Tim Hortons has neither wi-fi nor electric outlets. Alas, until I find a nice place that is close to my house, has available resources for my laptop, and brews coffee, Starbucks seems to be my hangout for Monday afternoons.

This morning, being Monday morning, I woke up a bit more excited to go to Starbucks than usual. A few of my friends are avid and faithful followers of Starbucks and their random happy hour specials; lately that of 'Half Priced Frappacino Happy Hour'. Me being the stickler I am am usually pretty pessimistic about these things (I mean half price is still nearing on $3! Does anyone else find this only a bit of a deal?). Also to make me sound like even more of a grump, I've worked in coffee shops before and know exactly how much work and how much money goes into making something like a Frappacino, and I can tell you its not worth even close to the amount they cost, unless, of course, the polar glaciers completely melt, global warming wins, and, as a result, there is an ice shortage pandemic in the world. However, today I woke up thinking, "yeah, that's alright...a nice treat for myself in just about the perfect weather". So today, I decided, rather than getting the cheapest possible drink at Starbucks above water from the tap in my travel mug from home (my usual), I bought one of these fancy frappacinos (which I admit are good, but never, ever, necessary). Fairly happy with my purchase, and maybe a little apathetic, I sat down at a table and pulled out my laptop ready to get some stuff done. Amidst all the chaos of moving wires and fixing the ideal position for my laptop (which I'm secretly pretty picky about), I knocked over my drink having it all spill on the floor (literally all of it, I had not even put in the straw yet).

With my drink all over the floor, and just about everyone around me looking awkwardly and silently at me, I was slightly embarrassing. But then the money-saving-down-with-the-man side of me helped me come to the realization that I just completely wasted a $3 drink. Then a certain attitude towards it all came over me, one that I had never really felt before: it's cool. As I cleaned up the mess and sorta awkwardly smiled at people around me, I kept asking myself, why does this not bother me? I kept trying to prove to myself that it should and I need to be at least a little frustrated at my stupidity. But no matter how hard I tried to tell myself what an annoying and bothersome situation I was in, I just could not convince myself that it was that big of a deal. There was a peace over me, a peace over the situation, that it wasn't a big deal. In short, it is what it is and, what it is, is cool.

What does it mean to have peace over something; to have peace over a situation or to be at peace with the things at hand? I think to have peace over something is to be able to see the bigger picture, to remove yourself from the moment you are in, and see the wider scope and know that things are good. It is a completely natural, and rational, reaction for people to go through life living in the micro, analyzing every detail and nit picking at the immediate world that apparently defines their identity. We get something on sale, we are happy; we are sitting in traffic, we are sad; we buy something we really like, we are happy; we spill it all over the floor, we are sad. We live and devote our lives to how we feel in given situations; we become slaves to what's going on and lose who we are in the midst of it.

My questions is this: what does it mean to see the bigger picture in our lives? Further, what does it look like to the people around us when we start acting and living based on the mindset that we are NOT enslaved by the hi's and low's of our daily routine? Now, I am not being ignorant. I think in my line of work I see, more than most, people who do not have a reality beyond their current state; to see the big picture is not only a far off dream, but, even more so, a foolish ideal that blurs the truth. For many people, the current is everything. But, whether it's true or not, whether it's possible to live in this way, I have to believe that there is more than the current. The present, the current state we are, cannot be everything we are because life only works if there is a greater and more foundational truth to each of our lives. If there is no hope that we are bigger than "this" and that we are not slaves to the things that go on on a micro scale in our lives, then we are fighting a useless fight; we are running towards a destination to nowhere.

Our jobs, that status of our relationships, our interests and priorities, our emotions and feelings...these things define where we are at because these things change. Where we are at in our journey in life is something beautiful, don't get me wrong. But if where I am at defines who i am, I am the subject of a completely unstable and damaging reality. Now what we are, that's a different story. What we are does not change...the core of our identities and the fundamental truths, innate truths, of who a person is is something even more beautiful. These are the things that can never be changed; what we are is the defining immutable truth over each of our lives. If there is no hope that who I am is defined by what I am, and not where I am at, then I am not excited, and certainly not at peace, with who I am.

What does a revolution of people that see themselves at the core of who they are and not the labels or states that confine them look like? What does it mean to see a world transformed by each individual's realization that they are more than the things that define them; that their identities are rooted in the truth of what they are and not where they are at in their journey in life.

That would be scary as hell...and awesome.

------

Song of the Week:



(Shad; A Story No One Told. Not only is Shad's flow amazing, but this song speaks poetry, truth, and life that is so refreshing to a barren and empty rap game)

March Break Camp 2011

Check out a recap of our March Break Camp 2011 (you may see a familiar face!):

Goong Hay Fat Choy!

CHINESE NEW YEAR @ Camp Victory. Trying out different chinese snacks, learning how to use chopsticks, and getting red pockets (with candy and chocolate coins inside)

priorities

another fun conversation with some of my 5 and 6'ers, and 7 and 8's:

their take on priorities:

1. God

2. Spelling

3. Friends

4. Girlfriend/Boyfriend

Makes sense, no?

tiny fists and feet

Since my arrival in September, I have been heading up a team in running an afterschool program with our children in the community of Rexdale. There are many jobs and duties that come with my role, but probably the most dominant and identifiable responsibility the position requires of me, at least in the eyes of the kids, is that of the last line of discipline. Our kids go through a system of warnings and precautions when they act out of line or misbehave during program, and in doing so, we hope we are providing them with a rare type of love that sets their self-potential higher than those around them, and even themselves, may have assumed. Out of the twenty kids in our program, every single one knows that the last thing they want to do is be sent by another leader to MC (aka me), because MC has the power to suspend them from camp. At the end of all the warnings available to our kids, the very last line of discipline means a trip to the dreaded office where I, MC, give them their final warning and let them know I will be watching them and how they behave, and if I have to talk to them one more time, I will have to take further action, usually involving a suspension or coming in some sort of contact with their parents.

It is an interesting role, in many cases, being the “bad guy”. Kids can say some pretty nasty things when they are mad at you, and, at the end of the day, although they are just words, kids can have a pretty lasting effect on your emotional state. I have been told many times by a variety of kids that camp was better when I wasn’t there, and it would be better if I never came. How much they hate camp and hate me and the other leaders is also a pretty popular option. Most of the times, a kid may be having a bad day, and it shows in his or her behaviour. And, as mentioned above, they usually end up being sent to me; eyebrows furled, arms crossed, and a big frown on their face. You could have zero interaction with them the whole day, and still you, ironically enough, embody the entire reason why today is the worst day of their life. Usually once or twice a day, I become the empty canvas at least one of my kids will project all the struggle or stress they experience in their life at home or their life at school upon.

But the question is why? Why, in a world and society where you learn at an early age that you do not disrespect your elders, your authority, would you dare take that chance? My kids are not stupid; if anything, each probably has way more common sense than the average 5-10 year old. Many of them, in any other context would not dare fight back or argue against anyone with the power to discipline them because they know the chances of their consequence being nice for them is not in their favour. So then why do they take that risk against us? Especially with myself, the one who holds the final say, and with one phone call or visit to their house, can send them back home to a very unhappy parent.

I think it is because my kids feel something different at camp; something maybe they are not as used to. Perhaps its because our kids are surrounded by leaders, by men and woman of authority and power, who are not easily swayed to give up on them. So many of our kids are given a bad rap before they can even walk solely based on the community they live in, the colour of their skin, or the history of their families. For many of them, they are used to being given up on; they are used to people telling them success is unachievable; they are used to people telling them to set their standards low. But when they come to camp, there is something different in the air: discouragement is replaced by encouragement, low standards and expectations are replaced with higher ones, doubt and skeptism are replaced by trust, and hope becomes the new banner they live under; even if it is just for two hours a day in which they spend with us.

So when they attack me (both with words and with their tiny fists and feet), I think they do so because they know I am big enough to take it. They know that no matter what they say to me, no matter how much they throw at me, they know I won’t stop loving them. I think they are not afraid to unload all their anger and frustration on me, as well as my other leaders, because they know we see beyond it all and can still see a beautiful boy or girl beyond the distractions. I think they choose to hate us sometimes because they know we are the only ones that would care.

For the past couple months, just starting off, it has been a blessing to be able to be that person for so many of these kids; to be someone they can vent to, and at the end of the day allow them to still come out encouraged or, at least, with the sense that they are loved by someone. And with every blessing, the more and more I interact with the kids, the more I see myself in them. The more and more I work with kids, who wear their hearts on their sleeves, the more and more I realize how impatient I am, how short sighted I sometimes perceive situations, how so often I need to be loved when I deserve anything but it.

The more and more my kids feel more comfortable to yell at me, the more and more they learn to trust me, to understand how much I love them. Who is that in your life? Who is big enough to “take it”; to handle your tiny fists and feet?

tune from the east

beauty in the form of a song:

Foy Vance: Gabriel and the Vagabond

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4cjCuUQUwI

although it's been said, many times, many ways...

Highschool is an interesting time because so much of it is geared towards allowing students to grow and become equipped for the "real world"; there is so much planning and constructing of the curriculum and classroom to ensure that young men and women retain vital and useful information. Highschool was one of the most beneficial times in my life as far as learning and growing, but sometimes I must sit back, analyze, and laugh at what has stuck with me to this day. The actual teaching, I remember only selections of it, but the things that could not be planned: the intangibles, the moments, and the memories, have stuck with me and taught me an infinite amount of lessons.

However, one of the few things I remember well was an experiment I did many times in science class: titration tests. Now, granted, I barely remember the purpose of such an experiment other than the fact that I was looking for some sort of "breaking point" of a substance with another. Nonetheless, it was a tedious task: you would start with one substance, and, one drop at a time, would add another substance. With each drop, you would record if there had been any change. Now the frustrating part of this experiment is that, eventually, twenty or thirty drops in, the substance being added to would finally change colour: this exact drop was the mystery number each student was trying to discover. It always bothered me, being the impatient type, that the change, although gradual (in the realm of chemistry and science, a world I lack familiarity in), would only become visible to me within a single instance; that I could not escape dramatic change.

The past half year, in my life, has been one of dramatic change. For starters, I have gone from being a full time student (since the tender age of 5 years old), to being a full time employed worker; no longer do I worry about marks or grades, homework or exams. Instead, my time is now occupied by planning and running programs for children, social interactions with colleagues and parents, and raising money for every situation and scenario. Another change that has occurred is in the plans for my future; my "five year plan" has been significantly shaken and confused. Now, being in ministry, being single, and devoting most of my time in the city of Etobicoke, on the complete opposite side of Toronto I thought I'd be, the future has become something of uncertainty, unknowingness, and frazzled excitement. On top of all this, the nature of many of my friendships, relationships, and interactions with both people and places around me have changed; a natural transformation which can be described, neither as good nor bad but rather, as different.

And now December is here, and Christmas is only a couple days away; the question I must ask is "what has changed?". Sure, it has been a gradual progression, but this year seems to draw some significant differences, or changes in my mood and manner. As a child, Christmas meant everything to me: the gifts, the joy of making and consuming Christmas cookies, the excitement of having family come over every Christmas for a complete day of fun. Christmas movies and music defined the season, and even while I have never enjoyed shopping, experiencing the Christmas cheer in malls became a pleasant routine. Even the Christmas Eve service at my church: sure, the message was a bit dry and the songs were split into three languages, only one of which I knew, there was something magical about the night; something exciting, something joyful.

So what has changed? As much as I hate to admit it, it may be that I am growing up; getting older. The malls now sometimes make me feel lost: the busyness of people who have no intention to grasp the "christmas spirit", and the overwhelming joys of consumerism and materialism have made malls a place I tend to steer away from. Our Christmas day traditions, although still great, have become shorter and quieter. No longer are there the laughter and joys of children playing, as myself and all my cousins have all grown up. I used to have so much energy every year, but in the past couple December 25th, I find myself taking a nap in the afternoon due to exhaustion. I used to also bank on the fact that Christmas was a time of universal peace and joy; that whether you were religious or not, believing or unbelieving, Christmas was a time when humanity drew together as one. But the less ignorant I become and the more I see the world, I realize that this is not true. There is still suffering, there is still pain and sorrow (sometimes even more so during the holidays), in the season of "joy to the world". Christmas, sadly, can sometimes become a mask for many that keeps our lives and our outlook of the world peaceful, simple, and safe.

While this may seem extremely depressing, this is not my intent. Christmas is still happy; it is still something of beauty and joy. But we change; we as humans change; and along with this change, so our thoughts, ideas, and perspectives follow. Does this mean Christmas changes as well? While we all hope to instil the anxious child in us, waiting for Santa Clause to arrive, we eventually cannot deny the fact that this child has grown up. Is it for the kids, not yet tainted? Do we go through the rituals, go through the stories every year, to give our younger generation their fair share?

In the season of Christmas, things change. Our traditions and our memories become lost, or at the very best, altered. Similarly, our moods and feelings are so fleeting. Even the story of Christmas and of Christ's birth, it is something we, as humans, have become so accustomed to: a "holy" story made for a "holy" occasion; I mean, isn't it that much more comforting and relieving to reflect on the manger, baby Jesus, as we sit by a Christmas tree and drink egg nog? No offence to anyone, but isn't it harder to reflect on the peaceful setting of Christ's arrival in Bethlehem in July? The story of Christ's birth is not something new; similarly it's not a new idea that we try to keep the "Christ" in "Christmas; in fact it's so familiar and so popular, that it has become a ploy of the media and the world.

But, I think the answer, one I've been learning in the last couple days, is from Luke 2: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests". Christmas time is not as much about remembering the gift of Jesus, but reflecting on the everlasting and constant promises we claim as God's people. The gift of Jesus, His birth and descending onto the earth is not an isolated event, nor is His life, birth, ministry, death, and resurrection, an isolated collection of event. Rather, it is part of the grand story of Luke 2: the story of earth, where lies men, whom God's favour, for some illogical and unknown reason, rests.

In an ever changing season, a time that becomes new and old with every year, what do we hold on to? What remains consistent? It's not the sounds and sights, it's not the memories and traditions. I am learning that what remains consistent is the ongoing story of God's love for humanity: the one that did not begin in the manger, and the one that certainty does not end at the cross. Don't get me wrong, the birth of Jesus is something to be praised; it is something to help us remember and remind us of the gift of our salvation. I am not saying that the story of the manger, or even the celebration of Christmas and the holidays is something we should ignore or belittle. I love Christmas, both the story of Christ coming and the celebration of the season, but these things are subsets, they are results of God's everlasting promise of love for humanity. Let us not forget that "peace on earth and goodwill to men" is not a result of December 25th, but a banner on which we, both believers and non-believers, all live under everyday.

discouragement versus encouragement

What is a leader? More specifically, what makes a good leader? I think it's safe to say that different groups of people require different leaders. An office team that is constantly trying to make deadlines needs a leader who is assertive and direct; there are no time for emotions and hurt feelings. The leader of a church, I often find, is one who is wise and trust-worthy; he or she is someone who empowers their congregation and leads them by example. On sports teams, a leader or captain is often the person that can motivate the team; one who pushes and challenges the group by mentoring players, giving them pep talks, or simply gets them going by playing harder.

Every since I have moved into my new role as a site supervisor for children with UrbanPromise Toronto (urbanpromise.com), I have been learning, sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly, what it means to be a good leader. Now, in my role, a good leader needs to embody several traits. Working with children, he has to be both sensitive and firm in his interaction with each one of them. Almost every child I've worked with does not respond well to yelling or harsh verbalization, and of course, because of this, effective changes in behaviours are not usually achieved in this way. At the same time, children lose focus quickly and often forget how they should act and why they should do so; this is when an effective leader needs to be firm. Sensitivity only gets you so far, especially if a child refuses to hold your hand and, at any moment, can run into a street with oncoming traffic. Another very important trait for a leader to have in my role is the ability to plan ahead, stay organized, and make decisions. Working with children, nothing is ever clean-cut, and it almost never plays by the book; children's moods change in an instance, and at any given time, one of them will need to go pee (and difficulties lie when "holding it" is not necessarily a skill-set they have learnt). Yet, at the same time, children need structure; without it they go crazy; and to always be 10 steps ahead of them is of the utmost importance.

Being blessed with free tickets for my entire camp (20 kids, 15, however, actually showed up) to the Toronto Marlies Game (for those that do not know, Toronto Maple Leafs Farm Team), all of Camp Victory, my leaders, and myself, travelled downtown to watch live. Now, this being my first full-camp field trip, with myself as the head leader and main point of contact, I, needless to say, learnt a great deal. Today was one of those days where, to simply put it, being a leader was hard. After we got back to the church and got all the kids home, I sat in the office slumped in my chair at the complete maximum of exhaustion. While I sat there, I could not help but think of all the discouragements I felt throughout the day. Here are some of them:

• I had hoped to get to the meeting spot an hour earlier than the kids so that I could print off information to give to my leaders (ie: kids contact information and emergency numbers). I also wanted to prepare first aid kits and buy extra bus tickets just in case any of my kids did not bring fare for the TTC. Unfortunately, I had a hard time sleeping the night before and woke up late, rushing to the church only half an hour before to get all this done. A very stressful way to start the day.
• A child who has been having problems listening at camp was dropped off by his mom for the trip. Despite knowing that he would be a handful and would need the complete devotion of a leader to stay with him at all times (a luxury we cannot really fulfill), I eventually conceded with his mom and took him on the trip. Because he is a hard kid to deal with, I decided that I was going to be that leader that spent the whole time with him. Not only did it make me completely exhausted, playing the role of his parent, friend, discipliner, entertainer, and comforter, but it also made it a lot harder for me to oversee all the kids and leaders.
• Today involved a lot of waiting and patience: a virtue most children do not have. Our commute was from Kipling and Finch, to Finch Station, subway to Union Station and streetcar to Exhibition Place...and when it was all over, go back. In total, this trip took us about 4 hours (2 hours each way) + a 3 hour game (this does not include all the extra random "waiting" times). On top of this, when we got to the arena, there was a mix-up, and the 2nd group that was joining us, who also had all the tickets, came late. This meant the children had to wait an extra half hour outside of the arena. Now when working with little kids, the last thing you want to do is have "dead time" in which there is nothing for the kids to do and the space which they can move in is extremely limited. During a lot of the trip, many of my kids grew restless and bored, and were not afraid to show it through their actions. Naturally this seemed to reflect poor organizing and planning on my part.
• Throughout the day, I constantly felt like I was doing a poor job as a leader. One example of this is when we were in the bus and my kids, being restless, were starting to get a bit loud. One person in the bus turned around and announced to me in a rather belittling way that these children do not have to be this loud, and that he had 3 kids at home who had much better manners.
• The Marlies lost 3-1.

But as I sat there longer I questioned if the whole day really was a complete failure. I questioned if anything actually good happened today and if it was really rational to count this day as a loss. Here are some positive encouraging things that came to mind:

• Many of our kids are not exposed to many new things. They do not leave their community much and do not often get the opportunity to explore the various parts of their city while being supervised by trained and responsible adults. One of my kids informed me today that she had never been downtown in her entire life. On top of this, with hockey being such a big part of Toronto, free tickets to a live game are nearly impossible to get. The fact that the kids got to see a live hockey game in one of the most lively parts of Toronto, an opportunity they will probably never get again, is pretty awesome.
• The kids loved the game, all for different reasons. Some were very engaged in the actual game itself, others just liked chanting "Lets go Marlies!" at the top of their lungs. A bunch of the kids made their way down to meet the cheerleaders and basically ambushed them all asking for autographs on their flags (which they got for free), hands, and some, even shoes. As if our 50 free tickets to the game was not enough, almost every kid loved when they discovered that one of the concession stands was giving away free hot dogs; once the word got out to my girls and boys, another ambush occurred, this time on the hot dog lady. After the game, another stand we found was giving out free pizza...the children, still excited and happy to take it, ambushed lighter (probably because they were all so full from the hot dogs). Either way, what an experience for them: again something new, but also just the mere feeling of being blessed with so many things.
• The kid who had been having difficulties, and that I spent my time with today, warmed up to me throughout the day. Usually this child does not speak to most leaders and is not willing to engage anyone in conversation; almost as if he is in his own “5 year old world”. But sitting with him everywhere and holding his hand anytime we walked, he eventually began to trust me, seeing me as someone who cared and loved him. I gave him my camera on the bus and during the game and he loved to take pictures and show them to me. He also cried and did not want me to go when I had to leave the group to check on the tickets, asking him to stay with one of the other leaders.
• Many of the leaders that I lead are new to this job (and some even new to the country, being missionaries from Germany) and new to their responsibilities with the children. Although there were a couple things that could have been improved, overall, as a team, we worked pretty well together. Given the context of the trip, all in all, each leader worked hard and was able to take care of the children they were responsible for. To add to that, being on the bus and train with them for so long, they were also able to connect with the kids and develop deeper relationships with them individually.

What I have been realizing is that we, as human beings, allow our vision to so easily be clouded by the negatives and discouragements in our lives. We go through life pondering how we can improve, things we wish were different, and mulling over the mistakes we have made in the past. It is almost as if all the things that are going wrong in our lives contaminate our whole being, and the fact of this simple impurity is enough to define the answer to the question we are always asked: “how are you doing?”.

Yet I think often times we overlook all the good things which occur in our lives. Of course it is not always the case, and sometimes there are a lot of things just not going well for us. But it is important to note that it is in our nature to focus and zone in on the negative, and I question how many good things, truly positive and encouraging things in our daily living, we overlook or disregard because we are so focused on the “bad”. Today, I realized that, sure, things were tough and at times I felt like I was going to break down and fall apart. But all in all, when I think of what we accomplished today; all the things are going to matter and mean something to myself, my leaders, and most importantly, my children 10 years down the road; it is hard to stay discouraged and bummed out.

And maybe that’s what it means to be a good leader: a person that can take all the discouragement, all the struggles, all the pain and failures and mistakes; a person that can take all those things, bundle them, and put them to the side. A person that doesn’t throw those away or completely disregard them, but does not let them get in the way of all the good things that are going on as well. A good leader, maybe, is someone who acknowledges the negative, but does not lose his or her footing by holding on to the positive. Maybe that good leader is one who realizes that it is the positive that stabilizes their motivation to keep going, dispelling all the day-to-day discouragements he or she may encounter.

Yes, one of the discouragements today was that the Marlies lost 3-1. The Maple Leafs, however, are on a hot streak, which to me suggest that the encouragement is that Brian Burke and Ron Wilson picked the right people for the Leafs, and dumped the wrong people with the Marlies.

wake up

I heard on the radio that women are more likely than men to awake from their sleep from the cry of a baby, regardless if they are a mother or not. This is due to women's innate nurturing and caring nature. Men, on the other hand, are more likely to awake from things like a howling wind, car alarm, or anything that could be perceived as a threat to the entire family.

I think this is perfect in explaining the beauty of both gender identities and roles.

its like there's a struggle between the good and the bad

the devil trying to hold at me and keep me under wraps

but there's a light resurrecting in my soul like fire

open eyes, fallen knees, ain't no time for liars

it's like these lyrics flow out of my soul like water

a testimony to the lowest of all his sons and daughters

i hear these rappers all around and they bother me

its like people ain't hearing music properly

and the truth is being shared akwardly

cuz the world don't understand what it ought to be

so i'm trying to comprehend what I seem to see

with the simple vision given by God in me

you see,

i don't want to be ignorant, but i've got some proof

like how the media corrupts and distorts our youth

it's like they teach the kids how abandon their mind

and they replace the intellectual with a catchy line

its funny, cuz music is like a transport into the soul

and im not one to criticize that i dont know

but i know, at least, that it's all getting old

and that a lot of these artists seem to have sold

out, its like i gotta beat driving my mind

one after another, the lyrics come out line by line

still new, but im messin around with rhymes

understanding that transcends culture throughout time

cuz im trying to be humble, cuz I gotta lot to learn

but God is tellin me to use music so that I can discern

and speak a message to the world, and to those around

who have ears but have chosen to mute out the sound

so I'm speaking to their hearts like they've never heard

speaking life to the lost who have never read the word

see the word became flesh, while we were still deaf

had a pathway to heaven, but went right not left

so what's my job, nah it ain't conversion still,

simply to show people that the path is still available

you see we're looking for life and truth in all the wrong places

we can be a mighty king, yet still struggle like David

we stumble all the time, ill be the first to admit

im being raised everyday, yet I fall and slip

but the fact is that the message overcomes the odds

that we're loved and treasured by the God above

so the message aint new, you probably heard it before

like the stacks of magazines at a grocery store

you've been flooded by the devil trying to sell Christ to you

like the preachers preaching garbage all over youtube

take a second, close your eyes, you know theres really more to it

you can see all the crap, let your mind see through it

and listen to the word Hes tryin'a speak to your soul

ill relate it equally to the young and the old

Cuz we're not talking about gospel music

just the truth cuz we can't get used to it

a beautiful letdown

(June 8, 2010; something I wrote in Switzerland)

Travelling around Europe for the past 3 weeks, I have seen so much, have been in so many places and moments, that have forced me to be completely and utterly struck with awe. The sorrow, scared-ness, and sanctuary of standing in one of the gas chambers at the Auschwitz-Birkenau Concentration Camp; standing under the Eiffel Tower as it lit the Parisian sky; in a sea of patriotic Germans celebrating the victory of their football club, beer everywhere and undignified joy at its greatest.

It is hard for me to describe these moments in any other way than beautiful. As I write this I am 3571 metres high on the highest point in Europe: Junfraujoch in Interlaken, Switzerland. As I simply just look out at the glaciers, endless mountains, and a blue sky that marks the border between heaven and earth, I cannot help but assume that I am in a moment of beauty. The mountains, so untouched and so untamed, contrast the busy schedule and rushed appointments of living in a big city like Toronto. It is truly amazing; I keep thinking to myself, how could something like this exist right in the middle of our busy world; how can something this beautiful be so completely hidden to the majority of people in the world.

I took out my Bible and flipped to Psalms expecting that God was going to give me some verse about his beauty or something on the power of his might and creation. Yet this is what He revealed to me: "O LORD, what is man that you care for him, the son of man that you think of him" (Psalms 144:3-4). Of all the beautiful things in the world, of all the astonishing things in His creation, people sure are a big disappointment; a beautiful letdown. We exist so far from our intended purpose, the most sacred things about us have become so vulgar, we refuse to coexist with creation and with each other because even though we were designed for community and communion, we have become a selfish breed.

So the question King David asks still boggles my mind. Who are we that you care for us, that you even think or consider us? Who am I that He finds me more beautiful than the scenery before my very eyes? To claim myself as his greatest and most treasured creation, in my head, would be sheer and utter blasphemy.

Yet, He is the one that says it, the one that treasures me; it doesn't make sense but no matter how much I try to convince Him of this, He refuses to listen. I can look out at these mountains and admit I do not know anything about them except that they are visually and emotionally pleasing. But God knows everything about me: all the dirt, all the bad thoughts I've had, the sinful things I've done, and yet He claims with confidence that I am beautiful.

Sitting at the top of Europe, over 3500 metres in the air, I can say with confidence that I know what beauty is. I can honestly say that right here, right now, I am in the midst of beauty. In this moment, I am learning what beauty is. Yet, I am realizing even more that my perception and understanding of beauty is just a small glimpse, a minute fraction, of God's definition of beauty. I know that for Him to call me beautiful, more beautiful than this moment, He is either completely out of His mind, or is working under a whole other conceptualization of beauty; one that is so far from making sense to me.

all the things we miss

It is amazing how the simple, almost spontaneous, decisions we make on a day to day basis either allow us to encounter the sweetest, most heart-whelming experiences, or miss them all completely.

Today at camp, myself and a couple leaders took all the boys to the basketball courts, about a 5 minute walk from camp, so they could get some fresh air and drain their energy. We were there for about an hour, and needless to say, the boys were going wild...sometimes good, sometimes bad. Either way, it was pretty clear, they were having fun.

At one point while we were playing, one of the 7-year-old boys who I had just met that day, informed me that he had to go to the washroom. At first, thinking it was a simple task, I asked him if he minded using a tree (since the nearest washroom was not that close, and we needed all the staff we had at the courts). He didn't mind. After about a minute, I checked to see where he was. He was standing just outside the courts staring out into the grass and trees, but showing no sign that he was ready to interact with nature. I went over and asked him what was wrong, and he informed me that he had to go #2. Right away I knew the trek to the washroom may be worth it after all. I asked him if he could hold it until we got to the church; he modestly affirmed.

Not knowing the boy too well, I was able to have a nice conversation with him as we walked back. It's always nice to know that while all human beings generally like to be loved and talked to, children are usually not afraid to initiate and reciprocate this (as opposed to adults who generally play it safe at first). The whole time I could not help but think, "one day, I hope this kid becomes a leader in this community".

As we got to the church doors, which are always locked, we rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open it for us. Understandably, this took awhile as camp was still going on on the inside with the girls. As we waited, I asked my new buddy if he was doing okay. Quite possibly the saddest thing one can hear was found in his response: "it's too late". Now with kids, you can never really be sure how much of a story or answer is exaggerated or just, to be blunt, made up. But after a bit of questioning, I started to come to the realization that he was in no state nor leverage to be lying. Finally someone opened the door and we made our way to the washroom.

As I stood outside the doors of the washroom while he "finished what he started", I waited for him. From time to time, I would ask him how he was doing, only to get a response sadder than the next. Let's just say I derived from his answers and descriptions of what was going down, it was a messy situation. Not scared or sad, but probably moreso out of embarrassment or just plain uncomfortableness, he politely asked me if I could call his mom and ask if she could pick him up. It is completely understandable...children can be the worst bullies, and this week seemed to have a "you smell like cheese" mentality. After talking with his mom, who was unable to pick him up due to work, we realized that he had an extra pair of shorts with him. After little convincing, he agreed that he could clean himself up and change into his spare shorts.

When he was all done, he came out and I asked him if he and the washroom were both clean. While he was clean, he admitted that as far as the washroom went, he tried his best. While he knew it was his responsibility, he also knew it was not something he was excited to come to camp for that morning. Without much thought and much deliberation, I offered to go in and help him. While he was grateful, he kept informing me that it was not something I probably want to see. As we walked back to the washroom, I had a good 20 second conversation with him about how stuff like this happens to the best of us.

As we got in, sure there was some cleaning to do and it was not as bad as he described, my buddy and I started to work. During that time, I was reminded of a similar experience that took place 6 years ago in the same washroom with myself, my friend from church, and a missing perpetrator. Nonetheless, my new buddy and I had a good chat while we got friendly with the floors. Teaching him basic things like layering your paper towel in case it rips, and why we should get in the habit of thanking custodians, I can honestly say it was the most enjoyable time and conversation I've had at camp in the past two days. He was cute, honest, and simply just happy to be wiping poo off the men's washroom floor with me...and so was I.

After we were all done, I walked with him back to the cubby area so he could put his bag away. Just as he was telling me how horrible he felt, I accidentally ran my forehead right into a metal bar against the wall. As much as it hurt, it was even more funny for the two of us to laugh about. As he put it, "now we both feel horrible!".

When I reflect back on this story, it is interesting to think of how many chances I had throughout that half hour period to make decisions that would either allow me to get to know him better or not. Most obviously, it is pretty straight forward in my mind how I could have just as easily told him to clean the washroom himself; I mean after all, its not my mess, and it's certainly not my job to be cleaning toilets. Yet at that moment, it seemed like there was something blocking my ability to reason; a little voice that just carelessly spoke on behalf of my brain. But I am glad that it intercepted the signal to my brain, the signal telling me that cleaning poo does not equal fun, because I was able to share a funny but memorable moment with my new friend.

And really that is what is so interesting about it: our desire to jump at opportunities regardless of the crap (sometimes literally) that stands in between. It makes me think how many opportunities, great opportunities, we miss in life, on a day to day basis, just because something so minor is in the way. I do not even think it's necessarily about making the right decisions, rather I think it is about having the intentional mindset to seize opportunities...from there, the decisions are made spontaneously. If we are so focused on the end, the goal, then the means and how we arrive at it, no matter how disgusting or unappealing it is to you, will be seen as a blessing.

A couple minutes later when everyone came back to camp, and we started work on their talent show for the community, my buddy came up to me and asked me if I wanted to join him in his group. It's fun to make new friends.