Called Into Chaos

Chaos and I aren't exactly complementary. We do not bring the best out in one another; I attempt to remove the chaos, the chaos brings out all of the Controlling quirks that I try to hide. In true God humour, however, the opportunity for growth is not missed. And in this flash week back at Durham diving into kids' ministry, God did the God-thing. 

So, it started like this: waking up late. Rush to the airport in a faff knowing fine rightly the checked luggage was going to be overweight. It was. Grace abounded and I wasn't charged, so we zoom through the special assistance security and allow Mr Security Man to be concerned about the shape of my bag and allow him to giggle when he opens it to the complete set of seven Harry Potter books (it's academic reading, I'm taking a module, okay?!). Then, we get on a plane. And sit there. For over two hours delayed. 

Enter: more chaos. 

Now, I should add that I had my Saturday strategically planned so that Laura and I could go from the airport to Fay's to Wilko's to Kathryn's to my estate agents to my new house to Roxy's to new home. From 6.30am, this was not going to work out. A classic.

Needless to say that all worked out, of course. I have incredibly graceful friends who hug me when I flap (thanks, Laura) and reassure me when I question overandoverandoverandover (thanks again, Laura). We even ate and I got to pet two labradors (thanks, Lord). 

On Sunday I went to church with an apt sermon as ever (thanks, Lord), and had some holiday club prep and training. 

Now enter: the Real chaos. 

Anyone who has ever done kids' ministry will be able to tell you it is a form of pandemonium in itself. Chaos and I are already fairly sick of one another at this point, but we both know fine rightly that we were about to be tied together incredibly tightly for all the best reasons. 

You see, I like to make things Right. I cannot justify the meaning my head inherits for right-ness considering I hardly understand it myself why spherical cutlery is Bad and flat is Right, yet for over twenty years I have obeyed the compulsion, not questioned the logic, avoided the chaos when possible. Reader, there is no Right in children's ministry. 

You can be organised. Your space can be set up, glued into place, everything with precision. Each minute can be prepared. The colouring sheets ready, the felt tips each with their individual lid, the dolly fully dressed. But, what I've learnt, is there is no blessing there. 

There is no blessing in that control because it is utterly lifeless. 

A lot of my 3-5 year olds come in upset - they understand how Chaos and Wrong feels - so how could I focus on making sure the blanket is at the Right angle when that won't fix any of this? We colour in and sometimes forget to put the lid back on the pen. When we finish, we peg it up wonkily. We run from group area to sit in front of the stage, arguing silently over whose turn it is to sit on the right or left or middle of my knee. We enjoy the amusement of chaos on stage; a freeing type of chaos, rather than the distressing one. Each bump of chaos met is followed by an improvised resolution and no one is phased; we laugh. We do the actions out of time and sometimes forget one and then step on someone's toes but apologise and they're only little feet so it doesn't hurt anyway. 

There is life here. There is blessing. There is chaos. It is magical and God moves.

Over one week, this little group of 10 plus 3 gets comfortable with the rough routine of chaos. We don't always start on time and sometimes we don't leave on time. Clothes get covered in paint. Lunch takes an eternity. At least three cups of juice are spilled on average each day. Trousers get covered in mud. Craft is a source of the madness in itself, too. Probably a main one to me, at least. Yet it brings the greatest revelation that perhaps it is not absolutely utterly completely essential that the verse is strung in the right order/direction/instruction for a group that cannot yet read was a massive turning point for me;

stop fighting the chaos. 

The little group that Justin, Hannah and I led taught me a lot. 

There is freedom in running outside, even if there is a risk of slipping. 

Sometimes a plaster does the trick.

Hugs are necessary. 

Draw and colour in pictures to express your love. 

Not understanding is still a start. 

Squash someone's knee at some point. 

You don't need to know much to take something in, regardless of the language.

Sing when you aren't meant to. 

Tidying up is good. 

Leaving it messy is good too. 

The team I led with taught me so much in the grace, support and prayer they gave one another. The way they handled their own different sources of chaos, ran with what they had, and kept finding joy even when tiredness hit (admittedly, coffee helped). Their love and compassion for little lives encapsulated me entirely and is beyond significant. 

I don't know where I'm going this year or beyond, but all in all, this week didn't go too wrong. 

I don't know where I'm going, but I'm learning I don't have to control it.

Perhaps chaos and I will learn to get along. I hope so, anyway.

Take care.

'When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.."' Mark 10:14