The meaning of my summer.

Although I would say that all of the summer youth activities this year were quite successful, I also have to say in all honesty that the summer of 2011 was not an easy one for the Olivet Youth community.

June started things off innocently enough with an outstanding trip to the Creation Festival with 33 youth. The highlight for me was praying with seven of them at the “prayer tent” on Saturday evening. The prayer tent itself was actually too crowded to meet in due to the heavy response to the evening’s speaker. As pastor Davis would say, Praise God !

On our way home Sunday, news was beginning to spread about a terrible car accident that tragically took the lives of four Coatesville Area High School students earlier that same morning. I don’t think there is any CASH student who didn’t know at least one of these young men since their ages ranged from 14 to 17. Several Olivet youth and friends were very close to those who passed away so prematurely.

The funeral for one of the young men was held at Olivet. There was not an empty seat in the sanctuary, or balcony, and many were standing. Just two days after the funeral, 32 youth and adults departed on our Olivet ASP youth mission trip. A few youth choose not to go due to the tragedy. In contrast, there was a youth I had gotten to know at Creation that I invited to ASP on the day of the funeral and he joined us on the trip two days later. Different people handle grief in different ways. And that’s ok.

The ASP trip was, in spite of several adversities that we encountered, the best ASP trip ever. Every year is actually the best trip ever. I honestly feel that way. My team worked on a wheelchair ramp for a man who had lost his legs due to diabetes. As usual there were other churches there at our ASP center, one from Pennsylvania, another from New Jersey. A few days after we returned from ASP we learned through FaceBook that one of the young men from the New Jersey church collapsed and died two hours after returning to New Jersey. I met the distraught parents at his viewing that evening.

A few weeks later, I was visiting my daughter Katie at her place of work, the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. While we were there, my wife Karen and I had an opportunity to visit a 5-year old boy there named Conner. Conner is struggling with Leukemia and the effects of it’s treatment. Many people at Penn State and Olivet have been praying for him and it was an honor to pray with him and his mother. Keep praying for Conner and his family. He is in hospice care now.

I have not mentioned them all, but I have been exposed to many people, adults and youth, suffering great emotional pain this summer. I am certain I can’t fathom the pain these people are suffering. I struggle to understand what life must be like living in a bed and a wheelchair, watching the news and cartoons to pass the time. I struggle to understand why a mother and family has to suffer so desperately because of an evil disease that seems to have randomly chosen to attack an innocent young boy. I struggle to understand the depth of pain when I look into the eyes of two mothers whose teenage boys have passed away after they have cared for them so lovingly for the last 16 years. I struggle to understand. But I can’t.

And then I realize yet another thing I don’t understand. I don’t understand how these people cope with such pain. But I see a glimpse of hope in their ability to cope, their ability to press on. No. Actually, it’s more than a glimpse.

In Conner’s mother I met a young woman of tremendous character and strength. I suspect the same character and strength drives the others as well. I know that at least in Conner’s mother’s case the character and strength comes from a deep faith in God. Little Conner was screaming when we first entered the room because he thought we were medical personnel. He didn’t need one more needle prick. Despite everything that was happening in that hospital room, Conner’s mother had a strength of character that showed itself in a beautiful, gentle, peace. She gently crawled into bed with her son and assured him everything was ok. And her son responded with peace while we prayed over them.

Her loving care for her child was to me a reflection of the same loving care that God the Father has for her. The same loving care that God the Father has for every one of his creation. God has so much loving care for us that in Christ, God even enters into and participates in our human pain.

In Conner’s mother I found the meaning of my summer: Those who allow God to nurture and love them are the strongest of all people you will ever meet. May they be examples to us, and may God deliver them every day from the pain they experience, into his loving arms, assuring them that everything is ok, because God is with them. May we have such strength of character, by learning to receive from a loving God. A God that crawls into bed with us when we are screaming, and assures us through his gentle but infinitely strong presence, that everything is ok, He is with us in our suffering.

God is with you.

Happy Hiking, and God Bless,

- allen