Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 28, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
So He called me to find a way to have these young CYC followers check themselves on how they're living. Right away I knew I couldn't come out the gate and start preaching them on what they should and shouldn't be doing. No "You shouldn't argue with your mother, that's not Christlike!" Nope. Instead, I was able to think of a way to challenge these guys. To make them look at their own lives and ask themsevles if they are living right. So I posted the following blog. And I'm going to be following it with more blogs, each one highlighting a personal trait that makes an Absolute Young Christian. -------------------------------------------- We've been called by the big man to pose a question to all of you out there in Myspace land, all of you CYC'ers.
Are you an Absolute Young Christian?
Now, what do we mean when we ask this? What do we mean when we say 'absolute?'
Definition time!
Absolute - Complete, Outright
So when we ask, are you an Absolute Young Christian we are simply asking, are you completely, totally, outright and without exception a young Christian?
In today's world there are so many things pulling us away from the one direction we needed to be headed. So many things pulling us away from Him. So many things that are creating a buffer between us and God.
HERE IT COMES!
We are here to set the challenge and place the call out to all of you! Are YOU an AYC? (pronounced ace, as in "whenever I need some prayer help I know I have an AYC in the hole." Or whatever other clever pun you can think of.)
Over the next couple weeks we are going to be posting different traits of being an AYC. We're going to blueprint exactly what makes someone an Absolute Young Christian. That way, if you start to let those things begin to pull you the wrong way, you can jump back over to here and remember just what makes YOU who you are.
Being an AYC is what YOU are meant to be. So we start with the challenge:
Are you an Absolute Young Christian?
And if not,
Are you ready to be?
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 27, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
If staring at a wall was an Olympic sport, Zoe would be a gold medalist. She lay in her new room, the former den of porcelain angels, and stared at the beige wall. It had been four hours since she slung her canvass duffle bag onto the foot of her new bed and proceeded to lay down, clutching Roger and fixating her eyes on nothing but the wall. The room was average size but being adorned with only a twin size bed, a small night stand which held a smaller lamp and a crème white dresser, it felt huge. Huge and empty.
“Empty like me,” Zoe thought to herself entering the room those long four hours ago.
Since then she had laid, unmoving on top of a quilt. It was one of those quilts you get at a designer home supply store that people pay way too much for because they think it looks genuinely homemade. Zoe was immediately reminded of Victoria with how fake and corny it looked. Like her it tried way too hard to be something it wasn’t in an attempt to impress everyone.
Zoe did have something to be thankful about. In those previous four hours she was not bothered a single time. Not one time did someone stop in to see how she was doing, to ask if she needed anything or just to check in. For this, Zoe was grateful. She didn’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or be around anyone. Especially the people in this house. While her father wasn’t horrible, he just reminded Zoe too much of her lost mother and how much life had changed in three short years.
The layout of the house actually complimented Zoe’s solitary desires. The front of the house held the living room, dining room and the kitchen. On the right of the house were the bedrooms of her father and Victoria and Gabrielle. To the left of the house was a large bathroom, the laundry room and then Zoe’s room. Lying in her bed she was at all times at least fifty feet away from everyone. Mathematical blueprint equations like this are what kept Zoe’s mind busy as she gazed at the wall.
A knocking at her door popped Zoe’s tranquility bubble. She was no longer alone.
The voice of her father rang through her door, “Zoe can I come in?”
“Maybe he’ll go away if I don’t say anything,” Zoe’s voice pondered in her head.
“Zoe, are you ok? Look, I know you probably don’t feel like doing a lot. Losing your mom was probably really devastating to you. I’m here for you, Zoe. We’re going out to this nice Italian restaurant in town. They have some great lasagna. I wish you would come…..but I understand if you don’t want to. The new house and everything is a lot to take in. Remember though Zoe, I know we haven’t spoken much or seen each other much the past few years but you’re still my little girl and I love you. I’m always he……” Her dad’s heartfelt speech was shrewdly interrupted by the shrieking voice of Victoria.
“ROBERT!!!! LET’S GO OR WE’RE GOING TO MISS OUR RESERVATION!” the magnitude and tone of Victoria’s cry made Zoe wince in her bed.
Zoe could faintly hear her father’s hand fall to the handle of her door. At that moment a significant part of her wished he would open the door, come inside and hug her. That part of her yearned to have her father hold her close, like when she was little, and make her feel like everything was going to be alright. But then the bitterness of reality came calling, or rather yelling.
“ROBERT YOU GET OUT HERE NOW OR WE’RE LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!” Victoria hollered with such sharp poison.
Zoe could hear the door handle jiggle just a tiny bit as she realized her father’s hand had fallen away and he was now retreating to Victoria at the front of the house. In that moment the portion of Zoe that ached for her father’s love began to wither away. And as she heard the front door close and the car drive off leaving her alone in the house, it all but died.
* * *
The sunlight pierced through the white shades of her bedroom window and felt warm on Zoe’s skin. She groggily raised her head off her pillow and realized that she had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she noticed that it had only been an hour since her father stood behind her door. Bored, curious, and well aware that she had the house to herself for at least another hour, Zoe decided to venture from her room.
As she opened her door and stepped out in the hallway she immediately noticed the amount of pictures on the hallway walls. These were high class portraits of Victoria, Gabrielle, Victoria and Gabrielle and a rare occasional one with her father. They all had the same trendy look as everything else in the house. Zoe found herself admiring a particular one of Gabrielle.
“She’s so beautiful. She looks like a supermodel,” Zoe thought to herself as she looked over the close up on Gabrielle with her face in her hands.
The focus of Zoe’s eyes shift and she could now see the reflection of herself against the glass of the picture frame. She examined her average green eyes that she thought were too big and round. She frowned at her shoulder length, unkempt brown hair and the round cheeks that she thought resembled a chipmunk. With the immediate comparison to Gabrielle’s high cheek bones and feline exotic looking blue eyes Zoe felt like a potato next to a rose.
Just down the hall she could see the entrance to Gabrielle’s room. Zoe moved swiftly down the hallway and stood in front of the door. Contemplating whether or not to go in lasted two second as she quickly turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. Without stepping through the threshold Zoe could examine the entire room.
Gabrielle’s bedroom resembled a stylish New York City studio apartment. Her bed was positioned at an angle five feet from the back corner. Built into the opposite far corner was a mahogany computer desk. It was adorned with a pink laptop, stacks of notebooks, pens, and folders. The entire room was colored in deep browns and light pinks.
One thing in particular caught Zoe’s eye. To the left of the door, between two tall windows with light pink curtain, stood one of the most stunning sights she’d ever seen. Her eyes were now transfixed on a gorgeous ivory vanity. A row of three drawers was the base with shorter row on top of that. There was a grand, oval mirror fixed to the top and the glass was outlined with beautiful floral etchings. The entire vanity sat on four legs that were sculpted top to bottom into wooden roses.
Without thinking Zoe took slow steps into Gabrielle’s room. Her eyes spellbound by the luxurious piece of furniture as she slowly approached the vanity. Zoe, with the movement of someone approaching a previously undiscovered treasure, reached out and let her fingers grace the ivory bench standing in front. It was smooth marble with a plush light pink velvet pad to sit on.
Zoe’s hand crept from the bench to one of the pearl handles of the bottom drawers. With great caution she slid the drawer open a few inches. Her fingers danced inside and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She admired the gold base and the cosmetic’s deep red color. She turned it over and on the bottom of the base she read “Crimson Fantasy.”
Through the empty hall of the house she could hear the closing of car doors in the driveway. Zoe felt panic rush through her as she scrambled to gain her senses. She quickly pushed the open drawer shut and made her way to the door of Gabrielle’s bedroom. As she crossed under the door frame a wave of alarm crashed over her as she realized the tube of lipstick was still in her hand. Before she could turn around to return it she heard the knob of the front door turn.
Not wanting to get caught snooping in her step sister’s room she reached for the door, closed it quickly but silently and bolted down the hall for her room. He ever so quietly shut her own door and resumed her place lying in her bed. She shut her eyes to feign sleeping as she could hear the three new members of her family enter the residence.
Zoe could feel the percussion of her beating heart against her chest as she lay there. She hoped that no one saw her outside her room and more importantly, anywhere near Gabrielle’s room. Each second felt like an hour as the minutes slowly passed. With no sudden intrusion Zoe began to feel relief. That was quickly squashed by a soft but sharp knock at the door.
Thinking it wise to still fake taking a nap she did not answer. But before a second knock ever came the door knob turned and Zoe could hear someone enter the room. Through the utter silence she could hear the door close softly and someone approach her bedside. Keeping her eyes shut and attempting to keep her heart rate from beating like a hummingbird she felt the shift of weight as someone sit next to her on the bed.
“Zoe, I know you’re not sleeping. Open your eyes. I want to speak to you about what I just saw when we came in the house,” Victoria’s voice rang through the room and was the missile that sunk Zoe’s heart.
One eye after the other Zoe slowly opened each and rolled to her back. She pulled herself up on the bed and tucked her knees into her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she hugged her legs and tried not to make eye contact with her stop mother.
“I saw you coming out of Gabrielle’s room. I want to know why you were in there,” Victoria questioned.
A thousand excuses raced through Zoe’s mind, each one sounded more and more outrageous than the next. Zoe was suddenly overcome with hopelessness and despair. She pondered that maybe if she was honest with her stop mother, maybe, just maybe, this woman could understand her and even just attempt to aid her.
“I was curious and wanted to look around the house,” Zoe barely got out from her quivering lips. “I saw Gabrielle’s room first and it was amazing. Everything is so beautiful. She is so beautiful. Then I saw the vanity and it made me wonder. Maybe I could find out what makes her so beautiful.”
The side of Victoria’s mouth curled up in a slight smile. Her eyes showed pity onto Zoe.
“Zoe, I understand. Gabrielle is a gorgeous girl. She’s my perfect little angel. She looks like a movie star. She is perfect. I can understand you wanting to be like her, to look like her. But baby, women use makeup to highlight their features. And I’m sorry but you just don’t really have anything worth doing that to. No matter how long you sat in front of that mirror and no matter how much makeup you put on, you’re still going to look like you. And you should be proud of that. Lots of beautiful girls wish they could look more natural,” Victoria said dripping with a passive aggressive backhanded insulting tone. “Plus, pretty girls don’t ever have to work for anything in life. They get the world laid at their feet. You won’t have to deal with that. You’ll be able to really develop your own little personality.”
Zoe looked down at her knees as the words of her step mother hit her heart like a sledgehammer. It took everything she had not to let the tears flow from her torn soul. Victoria stood up from the bed and headed to the door. She stood in the doorway with the door in her hands ready to close it. She peeked her head back in and looked at Zoe.
“And I know you’ve been through a lot but I wanted to warn you that your father is going to be really busy. Not only is he doing a lot of overtime at work but Gabrielle needs him with her solo for the school musical she’s going to be in and I need him there for me to deal with the hurt and pain of having to put my babies in a box in our closet. So I hope you understand that he’s just not going to have a whole lot of time for you for awhile. After all, you came into our family,” Victoria said with massive amounts of harsh resentment.
As Victoria closed the door behind her Zoe’s emotions were not conquered by the drug known as hate. Deep in her heart she felt abandonment and loneliness. Her mother, the only person who truly loved her, had given her life to drugs. And now the one place she might be able to call home, the one place she might find hope, love, and a new beginning didn’t want her. It was that moment Zoe felt like a single star perched in a night sky filled with nothing but darkness. It was that moment that Zoe felt like the only answer was to escape the pain, to let the darkness extinguish her starlight and to take her own life.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 26, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
The large rain drops splashed off of the top of the deep brown casket. The irony of a rainy day funeral was lost on Zoe Parker as she stared at the wooden box that held her deceased mother. Zoe observed the twenty or so people who decided to attend the burial ceremony. The small crowd creating a semi circle around the casket consisted of mostly people from her neighborhood smattered with a few of her mother’s old friends. All of them had known Sandra Parker during the better years of her life. All of them seemed to have abandoned her over the past three years as she slipped deeper and deeper into her own personal void.
“Hypocrites,” Zoe thought to herself. She could feel the bitterness and contentment building within her. The only emotion she had felt since she had finally left laying next to her just perished mother was hate. Being around this gathering of people was doing nothing to reverse that.
That feeling dwelled within her now as she looked over the people who disregarded her mother when she needed them the most. Those people who did not find a need to attempt to rescue her mother from the vices that ruined her life. They did show up however when those demons finally took it.
Hate is a powerful thing and Zoe felt nothing but that for these people. The seed had been planted six days before when she finally left her mother’s side after being there for two hours and travelled next door to inform her neighbor. That seed was slowly watered as the police came to her home, roped off the house, and drew the attention of the entire block. They all gawked and stared. They passed their judgments and make their demeaning remarks. They were there to see her body wheeled out covered by a thin white sheet. None of them cared when she was alive, when she needed them the most. But they all stood at the pew of righteousness feeling better about who they were as people because they weren’t the ones suffering.
“Damn them,” Zoe had swore in her head. That seed of hate so quickly became a sprout and over the next six days leading to the funeral it would grow rapidly. She hated her father, Robert Parker, who couldn’t make the trip the day he got the call, forcing her to stay with the neighbors she barely knew and who obviously felt so inconvenienced by her being there. He hated her step mother, Victoria, and her daughter, Gabrielle, for coming along. Neither Zoe or her mother had ever met the two but somehow they pretended to care enough to attend the funeral.
Having met them for the first time just eight hours earlier had given her time to hate other things about them. She hated Victoria’s shallow, fake smile when she met someone. She hated Gabrielle’s almost perfect blonde hair and beautiful features that donned too much makeup for her fifteen year old face. Gabrielle was only two years older than Zoe but with her overdone cosmetics and revealing, fashionable clothes she looked to be seventeen. Zoe, with her dark hair and humble looks, with her baggy sweatshirts and outdated jeans was the exact physical opposite. Right away Zoe hated Gabrielle for that.
Hate’s an interesting thing. As Zoe stood there among the funeral’s attendance, in between her father and stepmother, all she could feel was hatred. It didn’t matter that her dead mother was about to be lowered into the ground. Emotions can be drugs. For three years Zoe was a constant user of sadness. When her mother died sadness was no longer effective. She needed a hard drug. That drug was hate and she was addicted.
* * *
The drive to her father’s house was unbearable. Gabrielle with her stylish pink cell phone that slid open three different directions sat next to Zoe and had been talking for three straight hours. If you could call that talking. Zoe had lost count of the amount of “OMG’s” and “WTFs” sputtered by her bubbly step sister. It had also been a drive of empty one sided conversation with her step mother so far.
“We are happy to have you live with us,” Victoria commented to Zoe with so much fake sweetness it almost gave her a cavity.
“I’m happy too, Zoe,” said her father. The first words he had spoken directly to her since her funeral.
“We had to rearrange Vicki’s angel room and turn it into a bedroom for you but it was no big deal,” her dad remarked kindly.
“Not for you maybe but you try putting together a room for a teenage girl with such short notice. I didn’t have time to pain. I didn’t have time to pick out new drapes. I didn’t have time to do ANY real decorating. Not to mention finding a suitable place for my babies,” her stop mother shot at her father.
Zoe muttered confused, “Babies?”
“Victoria collects porcelain angels and had the whole room filled with them. It’s ok though. You needed the room more,” her dad informed her.
Through the rearview mirror Zoe could see her stepmom roll her eyes at her dad’s last sentence. Her dad continued, “It’s not much. A dresser and a bed. A small night stand and a lamp. We’ll work on making it more to how you want it as you get settled in. Maybe decorate it with those silly kittens you love.”
“I haven’t been into kittens since I was eigh…..” Zoe began to reply but was almost immediately interrupted by Victoria blurting out.
“Kittens?! Robert, please. No girl in my house is going to decorate her room with kittens. I was already planning some really modern color patterns with…….” Victoria trailed off as Zoe stopped listening. She could see her stepmother become exuberant talking about the interior design of her new room. Zoe didn’t care so she drowned her out.
The second three hours of the trip had been easier on Zoe. Victoria put on a thick cloth beauty mask and fell asleep. Gabrielle switched from talking on the phone to clicking away at its keyboard and listening to the white ear buds of her bright pink iPod. Her father drove silently as her listened to the low drones of a sports talk show on the radio. Zoe studied her father through the mirror. The past three years had changed him. He was tan and leaner. He seemed to have lost the goofy, carefree demeanor Zoe knew for so long growing up. It appeared to have been replaced with a heavy sense of seriousness and almost a detachment from everything and everyone around him. It was almost like he was drowning out the world.
“I miss mom,” Zoe blurted out. She didn’t know why she said it. She didn’t plan to say it. It just came out. Immediately as the words escaped her lips she felt dumb for saying it in this care, around these people. Then she heard another voice from the front of the care.
“Me too,” she heard her father say solemnly. Zoe looked at him through the rearview mirror. She saw his eyes filled with deep sadness. The kind of sadness you feel only after a horrible loss. Then she saw it, her father’s eyes fill with tears as a couple dropped to his shirt. He quickly rubbed his eyes and reached to the radio turning the volume up.
Maybe Zoe didn’t hate him so much after all.
* * *
Zoe caught herself nodding off as they pulled down her father’s road. Their road. The reality just hit her that this was now the street that her new home was on. Everything in her life was still in a constant state of change. So it was a bit surreal as the car passed through the middle class neighborhood, filled with clean white picket fences and neatly trimmed, perfectly clean lawns.
They came to a stop in the nicely paved, light gray driveway. To the left of the car was a basketball hoop. In front was the white door to a two door garage. Attached to the garage was a beautiful 3 bedroom white house with navy blue shutters. It looked like something out of a magazine. Suburban paradise.
Zoe slung her canvass duffel bag over her shoulder as she exited the car. It’s amazing how light the bag was considering it held everything she owned. Except for one thing, her purple fuzzy monkey amigo Roger, who was tucked under her left arm. As she approached the house via the concrete walkway she clutched him so tight that if he were alive he surely would have suffocated by now. Step by step, slowly she came to the navy blue front door. She stood there, directly across from it and just stared.
Everything looked so perfect to Zoe. The shutters and door matched to the exact perfect hue. The driveway was absent of a single crack or blemish. The grass was green, the sky blue, and in the distance she could hear the chirping of birds. Zoe had been living a nightmare and now she stood in what seemed to be a dream.
She was snapped to reality as Gabrielle rushed by her, bumping her shoulder hard and sending her sprawling forward. Zoe was just able to catch her footing and not meet the concrete front step face first.
“Why don’t you and your stupid ape watch out,” her step sister said with bitterness.
Zoe collected herself and looked Gabrielle up and down. So many violent thoughts bounced around her head. Thoughts of pulling that perfect blond hair out of her skull were the most prominent. For even just a moment Zoe had taken a break from that dark personal realm of hate. But like an old friend, it had returned. With that feeling brewing within her she entered the house. Able to control those temptations to inflict pain and torture upon her step sister she closed the front door behind her already so cynical and doubtful that this new life could be any better than the last.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 24, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
I wanted to share with you another example of my recent obedience to God. Once again this idea was sent down from the big texter in the sky out of no where. I didn't have prior warning but all of the sudden this rush of an idea for a short story came upon me. And recently I've learned to listen and listen right away. So I did, I started getting together the story details in my head and go to writing that night. I've been posting it on the blog over at the Christian Youth Crew and the responce has been nothing short of great. Right now I'm finishing up the 4th chapter. Below you'll find a synopsis of the story that's followed by the first chapter. Zoe Parker dreads going to school. She dreads coming home. She dreads just about everything in her life. Her perfect family was decimated by a nasty divorce three years ago. Now at the age of thirteen her father lives six hours away, remarried and seems to want nothing to do with her. Her mother is an emotional wreck who has turned to alcohol and drugs and slips farther and farther away as the days go by. Zoe finds herself without anything to live for and simply going about each day only because her heart is still beating. She wonders how it could get any worse. But after tragedy strikes and her world is turned upside down she finds herself staring the darkness in the face. Has she been pushed to far or is there someone out there that can save her soul and bring her to the light? “Everything used to be perfect,” She thought to herself as she lay in bed. Her favorite stuffed purple fuzzy monkey, Roger, held tightly against her chest by her two folded, crossed arms. It had been a rough three years for Zoe Parker. Her parents had been married for ten years. They had been a normal, happy family for those ten years. Then it all fell apart. A little bit of bickering evolved into full on shouting matches. Any resemblance of that loving, quant family was gone. Zoe didn’t know how it got that bad. It wasn’t something she could see coming or predict. It just seemed to grow, like a storm coming off the lake and then suddenly the little drops of rain turned into a huge down pour accompanied by the crashing thunder of broken dishes and screamed curses.
She lay there, chin tucked into her chest, nuzzling her nose into the fuzzy head of Roger. She could hear her mother screaming again. This time it was because Zoe’s father was unable to make the six hour trip for a visit he scheduled months ago. It had to do with work or something, Zoe found herself numb to the ever growing spew of reasons. She didn’t care anymore. She had spoken to her father on the phone three times in the past eighteen months and seen him two times less than that. She didn’t expect him to come.
Her mother was a different story. You never realize how much a woman can change when she loses the man she loves and her heart shatters. Sandra Parker always seemed to be more upset that she wouldn’t see Zoe’s father rather than he cared enough to make the trip to see Zoe. Indeed, even after three years she was still in love with him. When he left she tried to fill the void inside her with some light drinking. An occasional wine with dinner, going out for drinks with friends every now and then, these were all completely normal for an adult to do in Zoe’s mind. It’s when things began to escalate that Zoe could see her mother was developing a problem. One glass of wine at night turned into numerous glasses throughout the day. Going out for a drink once a week had turned into NOT going out once a week.
The drinking had stopped a year ago. That was when Sandra found out Zoe’s father had remarried. The news came without notice. Just a call one afternoon to announce that he had met someone a year ago, they had gotten married in a tiny ceremony a week ago and that he was moving six hours away with his new wife and her daughter. A love story wrapped up in a 5 minute phone call. Zoe didn’t blame her father for hiding it. For the same reason she didn’t blame her father for not making more of an effort to see her. Since the split Zoe’s mother was a different person. The loving, warm woman who loved to bake Oatmeal cookies, color with crayons and never once swore; that woman Zoe knew as her mother was replaced with an empty, cold woman who when she wasn’t furiously angry was an emotionless zombie of a mother.
But her mother putting away the alcohol wasn’t the blessing it should have been for Zoe. The bottle had been replaced with a needle. Zoe noticed the tell tale signs of heroin use right away but couldn’t put the pieces together and realize that’s where they pointed. She had noticed her mother’s sudden drop in weight, the heavy bags under her eyes, and the fact that she never slept at night. Whereas before Zoe’s mother was constantly yelling at her about something, making her feel like her father leaving was her fault, making her feel as if she ruined her mother’s life; at least now her mother stopped yelling and would mostly just leave Zoe to herself. While this wasn’t the ideal life for Zoe she saw it as an improvement and figured things could continue to get better over time.
Then three months ago her eyes were opened. She came home from school and had to use the restroom. The bathroom door was locked and her mother was inside.
“Mom, I have to use the bathroom,” Zoe said through the wooden door.
Her mother replied with a frantic tone, “Zoe, you’re going to have to wait. I’m busy in here.”
“Mom, I can’t wait. I REALLY gotta go,“ Zoe pleaded with her mom.
Her mother’s rushed tone spat back, “Just go away Zoe. Let me be. Go away.”
Like the majority of older houses there is usually a trick to unlocking the bathroom door. Zoe learned this trick long ago. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a butter knife and returned to the locked entrance. She stealthy wedged the blade between the door and its frame. With an experienced flick of the wrist, she popped the mechanism and the door slowly swung open. Zoe looked at her mother and the butter knife slipped from her then limp fingers and fell to the floor.
Directly in front of Zoe was her mother, sitting on the toilet, sprawled back against the tank, legs and arms spread out. On the middle of her left arm was a just untightened rubber tube, on her forearm fresh needle marks and on the sink counter next to her lay a needle, a bent blackened spoon, lighter and a small plastic baggie with white powdery residue. Sandra Parker tried to reach out for her daughter, tried to offer some kind of explanation, but instead only incoherent babble fell from her lips. She dropped her hand in defeat, slinked back against the toilet and let her eyes roll into the back of her head as the high took her over.
Zoe stared, mouth gaping open, unable to move, or think or feel. She witnessed her mother’s fruitless attempt to explain, she saw the evidence and while only being thirteen years old was by no means a dummy. She knew her mother had just shot up with heroine. Zoe, without making a sound, reached up, grabbed the bathroom door handle and slowly closed it behind her. She walked, step by step to her room. She crawled into bed, reached out, pulled Roger’s furry body into her own, rolled to her side, stared blankly at the wall and began to weep.
It wouldn’t be the last time Zoe found solace in the embrace of her purple monkey Roger and the solitude of staring at the wall. For the next three months, every time she saw her mother and knew she was high she would slowly walk to her room, grab Roger and continue her position staring at the wall and sobbing. This would happen three to four times a week for the next three months. She would come into the kitchen, see her mother with that drugged out smile and simply turn around and head to her room without muttering a word. Her mother never seemed to notice. Then again, her mother never seemed to notice anything these days. Whether it was Zoe’s failing grades, the letters from her teachers that came in the mail, or the black eye she came home with after a fight at school, Zoe’s mother wandered around the house in a complete haze totally oblivious to the world around her.
“Today will probably be no different,” Zoe was thinking to herself as she walked home from school.
She dreaded school. She dreaded coming home. She dreaded just about everything in her life. She especially dreaded the thought of coming home to finding her mother high again. She knew the odds were likely. Her mother’s drug use was growing noticeably over the past couple weeks. Zoe wasn’t angry at her mother. She loved her mother more than anything in this world and simply felt complete sadness that her mother was hurting so much inside that she had to resort to drugs. Zoe just wanted her mother back.
As Zoe reached her destination on the sidewalk, made the turn and headed to her front steps she bit her lower lip.
“This is it. Let’s see how high she is today,” She thought to herself concerning the condition of her drug addicted mother.
The handle turned slowly as Zoe opened the door and entered the house. It was silent inside but it was always silent inside. The television disappeared months ago and Zoe’s mother never listened to music anymore. Zoe slid her shoes off at the door and let her backpack drop from her shoulders to the ground as she closed the door behind her.
“Mom, I’m home,” She called out, somehow, like every day, holding onto the smallest, tiniest chance of a miracle that her mother would call back to her like she used to over three years ago.
Silence.
Zoe dreaded that. Usually her mother would make some half hearted response and the silence usually indicated Sandra was occupied at the moment by her attempts to get high. Slowly she walked from the front of the house to the kitchen. She noticed a piece of paper sitting on the paper. With a snatch she had it in her hand.
NOTICE OF EVICTION – ALL RESIDENTS OF THIS PROPERTY ARE HEREBY COURT ORDERED TO VACATE THE PREMISES NO LATER THAN 10 DAYS FROM THIS RECEIVING THIS LETTER.
Zoe had feared this. She feared that her mother would be using all of her money to feed her drug habit. Her fear had come true. They had just over a week to find a new place to live. Zoe wondered just how worse her life could get. Then she saw it out of the corner of her eye.
It was the toe of her mother’s sneaker. It was sticking out from being the big brown recliner in the living room. Zoe quickly rushed over to the location of her mother. Another fear had come true. Her mother was on her back on the living room carpet, her skin pale and colorless and her eyes staring blankly into the air.
A small gasp escaped Zoe’s lips. Her hand cupped her mouth as she stared at her mother’s body. Her hand then went to her mother’s mouth and nose. No breath came forth. Then her fingers went to her mother’s wrist. Among the old track marks there was no pulse to be felt. She then raised her hand to her mother’s forehead and felt the far too cold skin. She looked into her mother’s eyes and saw a peace she hadn’t seen in three years. No anger. No heroine high. No sadness. She crawled next to her mother, reached out, grasped her mother’s hand and pulled it into her chest, rolled to her side, and stared blankly at the wall. She was to dead inside to weep.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 22, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
This was our first online bible study. We had two people attend and it went great. Here are the notes.
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Verse References:
Matthew 5:43-47
Luke 6:27-36
I have two main points for this study. God wants us to love in two ways
1. Universally
More direct, to me it means loving without prejudice. From the shortest person to the tallest, black, white, asian, female, male, gay, straight, murderer, thieves, priests, choir leaders. Universally. Loving man without exception. God's not telling us, love everyone EXCEPT that guy over there. Or love everyone EXCEPT people who have crossed eyes. Or love everyone EXCEPT people who sin. He tells us the opposite. Love ALL. Especially love those who work against us.
God tells us to love those who strike us, who work against us. He tells us that if someone comes in your house and steals your computer and almost everything you have, as that person runs away you should literally shout at them "Hey, you want the tv too" And MEAN it. I mean, I'm not kidding here. It's right there in the word. We get to tied up with material things sometimes to take this with all seriousness. If God loved us enough to sacrifice his own son to save us, thinking about that, loving someone who steals your stuff isn't that big of a deal. Loving in such a way is the second way he wants us to love.
2. Profoundly
Loving profoundly basically means loving in an awesome, powerful way. Loving in a way that those who don't truly embrace the Word can't. Loving in ways that WILL change the world. Loving profoundly will change lives, gather lost sheep and save souls. Verse References:
1 John 2: Verse 9
1 John 3: Verse 15
So this is something I deal with personally sometimes and it's a challenge and a mission I wanted to pass to other young Christians. We need to remove the word hate from all aspects of our vocabulary. Even in the most joking tones, we have to surgically and precisely take it from our mouths. Why? Because if we let it linger, if we let it have a place in our world at all then we give ourselves the chance to turn to it later on. Words catch in our brains. People who are around others that curse are so much more likely to find themselves cursing, even if it's every now and then. If we find ourselves using the word hate, even jokingly, it'll be that much easier to go back to it when later on we get angry at someone, or get frustrated, or get upset.
So the challenge is, whenever you would say that word hate, serious or joking, replace it with love. Not a sarcastic "I LOVE when people cut me off while I drive.....errrrrr" but mean it. Mean the words that come out. Love that person for cutting you off. Love that person for making you upset. Mean it. Why? Because those people are giving you a chance to use your Christian muscles. Those instances are giving you an opportunity to practice your faith, your love and your walk with Christ. And of course, you get better with practice. The more you do it, the better you get at it. So the more times you have to find yourself REALLY loving someone or something that has really just made you upset or angry or sad, you're growing in your walk, you're becoming a STRONGER Christian. The two main points of the study were:
- God wants us to love in two ways, Universally and Profoundly
- Replace the word hate in your life with love and MEAN IT.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 17, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
Here is the second help email we got at the Christian Youth Crew myspace and the corresponding reply we published in our blog. Email is in bold and reply is what follows. Would like to get any input you guys can offer. I've been bouncing these emails off James and getting his thoughts and molding it all together with what gets spoken to me. So any comments are more than happily accepted and desires. This one was deeper for me than the first one. She hit on some very personal topics. I realized what kind of emails I would be getting when I started this whole thing but you never really feel the gravity of them until you read one like this. When I read this I really felt the weight of the responsibility on me to make sure I became a vessel for the right message.
well, you got me interested. I thank you for having this. i have grown close to God in the last 6 years. That was when I frist started going to the first church that had live music, actually taught me something, had people who cared, and had a Pastor who was like a father to me. But now, I dont have flame anymore. I love God with all my heart. he has done so much for me. I still read my Bible, pray everyday, and live my life for God, but I guess I dont feel god's presence anymore. Also, at home, im having problems with my stepdad. he has always been in around, but never in my life. He neglected me as a child. And now we are fighting mroe and more. I dont want to anymore. He says stupid comments. He recently gave his life to Christ, but I just dont trust him. My mom chooses his side all the time. Like evrything is my fault. We are a Christian family. But, i feel like everyone is turning against. Like they gave up on me. which i dont blame them, because, i do have attitude. its actullay a big problem. i have been trying to fix it, but its hard when people just constantly say stupid things to get to you. What do I do. Thanks for listening. It's my belief that as Christians we are at a constant state of growth. At no point do I feel we can reach a point where we've done enough for God. Too many Christians feel that it's simply about praying, going to church, reading the Bible and living "as a good Christian should." But the fact is we all have a purpose and it's much more than living "as a good Christian should."
Romans 8:28
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.Christians can easily become idle. They let contentment take over their lives and they feel their doing enough. But we must all drive to reach our purpose and to succeed in such. Being a young Christian can be so tough because you have so many things in your life pulling you, shaping you and forming who you are as a person. So many Christians get lost from their path in their teens and have such a hard time finding their way back to God again later in life. I think you may be to a point where you can ask yourself and God "What is MY purpose?" "Why has God put ME here?"
I believe you can find a new found drive in your spirit in the journey to find your purpose.
When it comes to your home life let me hit you with a few verses and go from there.
James 3: 16-18
16For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work. 17But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. 18And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.Your description of your stepfather isn't to positive is it? You start right off by talking about how he wasn't in your life and that he neglected you. To me this says so much about the feelings you harbor against him. You tell us he gave his life to Christ but you don't trust him. As a Christian we should rejoice when someone else even takes the smallest steps towards Christ. And then we should do our absolute best to help that relationship between that person and God grow and grow as much as it possibly can. That's our duty as Christians. To help gather up those lost sheep.
When it comes to your "attitude", guess what? The way teenagers thinks differs from the way adults tend to think and we like to call that having an attitude. Not being able to handle when people hit you with sharp little verbal jabs, to me, isn't about having an attitude. It's about being able to put on that holy armor and realize that there are no words uttered by man that can bring you down. Regardless of who they come from. I would stop focusing on having a bad attitude. That's like telling someone to not think of pink elephants. What do you think of? I bet you just pictured a big pink elephant. So focus on the positive. Focus on having a GREAT attitude. Focus on the positive, up lifting things that you can say to someone. Same thing with your stepdad. Focus on the little positive things he may do around the house, whatever they may be. Mowing the lawn, putting money into the house, changing a light bulb, no matter how small as long as it's positive. Focus on the positive changes you can see in his life now that he's accepted Christ.
James tells us that strife will lead to confusion and every evil work. I would defiantly say what you're experiencing at home is strife. Is there a possibility this has led to your distance from feeling your holy fire? What about that the strife that is there is just festering and leading to more and more negative things in your home life? Refuse it and rebuke it. Kick strife in all aspects of your life to the curb. Remember, we're told by the Word that OUR WORDS have power. So use your words and get rid of the things that are bring you down. Focus on all the positives in all aspects of life. From there, you're watering the holy seeds around you. With God and your fellow Christians, those seeds will continue to grow and you'll be amazing just how big they get.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 15, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
Here is the first help email we got at the Christian Youth Crew myspace and the corresponding reply we published in our blog. Email is in bold and reply is what follows. Would like to get any input you guys can offer. I've been bouncing these emails off James and getting his thoughts and molding it all together with what gets spoken to me. So any comments are more than happily accepted and desires. ------------------------------------------------------------- I'm not much of a believer, but I kno God's watching over me..I have not yet been baptised and I dont read the good book as often as I should. Can this be why I'am having problems in my life? I cant keep a good relatinship with a girl, I have no relationship with my father ( I kinda dislike him alot right now), I'm almost 20 and have nothin to show for it. Alot of bad things keep happening to me..but I always tell myself that God has a plan for me and he reveal it to me when the time is right. My question is how wiil I know? When will I know? what do I have to do? Am I truly a lost soul?
Here is the great thing about being a Christian. We have a God who will clean your slate the moment you want him to. Forgiveness and love is yours as a gift from him. It's not something you earn or purchase, it's something you accept. So whether you're 20, or 30 or 75 it doesn't matter. What matters is your recognizing that you could live fuller as a Christian.
To say that you're having problems because you're not reading the Bible enough or not walking in His path isn't the way to look at it. We will all face troubles no matter how deep we walk with God. We're told that here: James Chapter 1 2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Our faith is like a muscle and unless we get a chance to work it out, it'll never truly grow and get stronger. Walking with God doesn't necessarily give us a bullet proof vest to deflect trials and tribulations. Rather it enhances our ability to deal with those situations, to have faith that everything will work out and to not let our problems rule our lives. The Bible teaches us so many things about living our lives including being good husbands, parents, children, teachers, students and humans in general. So I wouldn't say your relationships with others are suffering because of your distance from being a more devote Christian but rather being a devote Christian will help you in developing those relationships, nurturing them, getting over the hurdles involved and making them last.
No soul is lost. Jesus Christ died to make that so. And if you want to get into the Christian life more, don't feel the need to go all out right away. Take it slow and let it grow. Start with hitting http://www.biblegateway.com every day and reading the verse of the day. Plant the seed, brother. God and his followers will help you make it grow.
Posted by: Josh Fairbanks
on Jun 15, 2009
Tagged in: Untagged
8 months ago I sat in my church, listening to the music and occasionally clapping my hands along. The music wasn't the slow drone of hymns but rather in comparison to something you'd hear from a Steven Curtis Chapman or some other adult contemporary artist. I looked over at the section of the youth in the church. My church takes pride in the youth following they have and they should. They have separate programs and such that really are more in tune with them. However, during the main service's music some were robotically clapping their hands, some just standing there staring ahead, and others looking around probably wondering if they would get caught bringing in their iPod next week. Don't get me wrong, it's not bad music. But it's not the music that Christian youths are listening to. There are so many hard rocking, hip hopping, head banging, lyrically smooth artists in today's modern Christian music landscape. Bands like Skillet, Thousand Foot Krutch, Red, Gritz, George Moss, Toby Mac, and others are all spreading the word of God and doing it with music that touches today's youth. So, those two paragraphs really simply lead to this point. As a looked at them, I felt a nudge. A spiritual nudge. Kind of like God just going, "Hey, you see that?" I turned, looked, and went "Yea." End of discussion. Someone kick my butt. Fast forward to three months ago. I'm working (as I do every Sunday now) but get the blessing of taking a few of the resident's to a church in South Haven. As I sat and the music played my mind began to wander. I now think it just stepped out to answer the call God just placed. Because as I sit there for no reason I started to think of that time 8 months ago. Then it hit me, or rather, he was tired of waiting for me, became rather blunt about it and told me, "You should start a myspace for Christians youth around the world. A place where they can talk about music, movies. A place where they can come for advice. A place on the internet where they can come together and congregate." So thought about it, nodded, and went "Yea." End of discussion. Someone kick my butt. So for 3 months there was a small battle in my head. God on one side nudging me and simply going "Do it. Stop waiting." And the voices on the other side going "It's a waste of time. It's going to fail. No one will care. It won't matter. You'll look like a fool." End of discussion. Someone kick my butt. Last Sunday, got a few of the residents at church again. Sitting on the bench, monitoring them, listening to the music I get another call. Brain steps out for a second, "Hello?" It's the big G. "You've waited long enough. It's time. It's going to be great. Get started ASAP. Oh and I want you to focus on reaching out to help these kids. Change some lives." So I say "I'm going to do it." End of discussion. Hey, put that foot away. My butt's sore enough already. I got the point this time. Monday night a get the layout together, write the mission statement, get everything ready. Here is what's posted on the top of our profile. Mission Statement: Our mission is to provide young Christian's a place of solace on the internet. We offer God's youth someone to reach out to in their time of need. Whatever struggles you may be having, if you need advice, someone to listen or someone to just talk to Christian Youth Crew is here for you. To offer the chance for young Christian's to congregate and talk about all of the things that effect their lives ie: God, family, friends, music, movies, etc. This is the place for teenage and young adult Christian's to come together and grow under God's word.
How It Works: Whatever troubles you are having in your life we are here to help. Whether you're struggling with being a young Christian in today's world, or your love life is bringing you down, or tragedy has struck your family, or even as something as small as you got a bad grade on a test or are just having a bad day, we are here for you.
What You Do: You email us. Your email will remain totally confidential. We will post the contents of the email on our blog along with our words or prayer and advice. Then other young Christian's from around the world will comment on the entry, offering their own kind words to help you out. No one will know it's you unless you comment and want them to. Otherwise it's just your message and you can read all of the great words and prayers others have for you. So... Tuesday morning the Christian Youth Crew went live on Myspace. I hit the Thousand Foot Krutch profile, scroll to their comments sections and I'm sending friends requests to everyone I see that has left them a comment. Sent over 150 or so friend requests. Today is Monday. It's been 6 days. We have 115 friends. AT LEAST 40 of those are from people telling their friends about us and those friends finding us to add us. We've gotten 24 general profile comments, we've already received 3 emails asking for help, we've answered those and placed them in our blogs, we have 176 blog views, 6 blog comments, and a private IM chat Satuday night with someone struggling with her faith, depression and whether or not if her faith and life is all for nothing. We were able to touch her. It's been AMAZING. I finally listened and the impact we are having is astounding. Not only that but the blessings in my own personal life are multiplying. The impact we are already having in people's lives are amazing. To let you know even part of the impact we are having, we had a young girl email us for help, we posted our reply in the blog and this was the email she sent us in responce to that: Oh my gosh. Thank you soo much. That really touched my heart. It even made me break down and cry :) I feel much better now. And again thank you SO much.
I'll be praying for you while you continue to help others like you helped me. That was such a blessing.
Be blessed
-Amy That alone let's me know I'm on the right path. That alone let's me know that I've found part of my calling. It's been an amazing 6 days and I really wanted to reach out and let the Mighty Men know. Because without YOUR help, without Michael Small being one of those feet kicking me in the butt, pushing me to do greater things in life, I'm not sure the CYC would exist yet and I wouldn't be reaping the blessings in my own life. So I'm here to thank you all.
Posted by: Michael Larkins
on Jun 4, 2009
Being led is really about surrender, submitting a wish, a thought, an action, YOUR LIFE to something or someone. Until you make a conscious heartfelt choice otherwise, you are being led by your old, unrenewed way of thinking. Why do I say “Heartfelt”? This all comes down to YOU!!! No matter what else you say, or how easy it may be to point the finger at someone or something else. It all comes down to you the choices and the actions that you always make, built upon the true beliefs that are reflected in your dominate thoughts and in the words that you perpetually speak. No one else can think for you, feel for you (or more accurately, feel JUST like you do about whatever it is), or do your push-ups!!! If you want to lose weight, you need to control what YOU put into your mouth and change the way that you move your body, no one else can do it for you. It’s the same way with being led, who you surrender to determines the choices that your make. The degree of your heartfelt commitment determines the amount and quality of energy that you will give to seeing your choices come to life. YOU -- AND ONLY YOU -- ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN PUT THE ENERGY INTO YOUR IDEAS, YOUR CARES, AND YOUR DESIRES. YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN LIVE THE DREAMS THAT GOD PUT INTO YOUR HEART!!! Here’s where it gets tough you have to allow the truth into your heart, no matter how painful that it feels. Because only TRUTH – LIFE HIMSELF -- can truly heal, mend, nurture, care for, and love that painful emptiness that feels like a hot knife being slowly dragged across your very being. No matter what you say, your actions have shown the world the truth, evident by the amount of pain or joy, bills or money, tears or smiles that you have left behind you. Being led is the surrender of our unspoken belief is that no one can/will take care of us better than we will ourselves. This is where we come face to face with one of Satan’s greatest lies, “That God doesn’t want you to have the best in life!”. What does the fruit of your choices, your life tell to the world? Is it a story that makes you want to laugh, to cry, or duck your head in shame, humiliation and regret. The values of what you are allowing to lead your life are the foundation of your choices. If you want to change your life, start by changing your choices. What are you submitting to, being led by? Do you truly want change enough that you would die for it, to give your life for it. How much of a price was Jesus willing to pay for you to have this dream, HIS DREAM, inside of your heart, He Died For It. Jesus went to the cross in order to supply you with the authority and resources to fulfill that dream that you have buried, just like the guy in the story about the talents. Thank God that Jesus left a living example for us to follow. This is, of course, easier said, then done. The problem comes in with the truth that most of our present choice gives us some sort of emotional pay-off. It’s not so much the result that we don’t want to let go of, but the comfort zone that our emotional pay-offs keep us locked up in. Too many of us would rather dwell in a comfort zone of the known, even if the end result (of just staying in your comfort zone) leads to killing, stealing or destroying the very things that we claim to want to protect instead of facing the fear of the unknown. This is where the deception of Satan comes in. There is a SPIRIT of fear that we allow to drive our thinking. This spirit of fear attacks our perception and our imagination. Twisting a whole lie around a nugget of truth. But the very energy that many of us call fear is really the energy that God has placed in us to help us to get over the hard spots, the obstacles in life. Walls, barriers, strongholds that we get to exercise our power and authority over as heirs of God and joint heirs with Jesus. Walls, barrier and stronghold who’s greatest usefulness is in helping us to grow stronger in faith and ability to be the Godly steward over the things that He desires to place in your realm of responsibilities. The Bible tells us that we don't have a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. But the spirit of fear trains us (by focusing on what’s wrong) to misname the very energy that God has sent to help us. It’s also about comfort, to release the comfort of the known, and learning to walk by faith into the future promise that lays waiting in the fruit of your gifts, skills and talents. It’s the coming face to face with that dread of failure, fear of rejection, or anxiety of having to maintain success . What if it doesn’t work, what are they going to say. It’s learning to see your life, naked, raw without the comfort of the excuses, the woulda’s, coulda’s, shoulda’s, the truth being truly seen through God’s eyes, heart and desires. To fully embrace truth in our hearts and with our actions without the twisted interference of Satan. There is a place of safety, a place of protection, a place of refuge. We will always find this spiritual sanctuary, the joy of being in God's Presence, when we allow ourselves to be led by His Very Own Spirit.
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