Whilst we were on outreach in the Netherlands, we had an
opportunity to run arts workshops for the youth in the church where we were
staying. Brennan, my photography intern (who is staying to be staff!), and I
taught a photography workshop. We spent the time teaching the youth how to use
their smartphones to take better photographs and the basic principles of
photography, and as I watched them practise their new skills, my heart grew
heavy. I remembered when I was in youth group and the way that I always compared
myself to others. I remember how I watched the pastors’ sons and daughters and
how they always won at Sword Drills, how they went to private Christian school
and seemed to know so much about God. I thought that I would never get to that
level. I knew that I needed to know God more, but I thought that they were the
only ones who would ever know enough to be pastors and missionaries. I didn’t
feel worthy of that life myself.
I wish that I could gather together all of the youth that I
come across and tell them just that: that they are worth it. They are worthy of
a relationship with Christ. It is a relationship, not just a knowledge, and the
knowing comes to the heart more deeply than to the head. So many of the people
that I grew up with aren’t Christian anymore. I don’t know what led them to
abandon their faith (or actually, I could probably guess, since they are the
same reasons I toyed with when I was eighteen and realised that it was time for
me to decide what I believed in). It took me encountering Christ in a field in
Canterbury and discovering that He wanted a relationship with me, a
relationship meant for every single day, for the intimate corners of me that I
didn’t show other people, for me to decide to give my life to Him. To actually
give it, and not just to sit in a pew on Sundays because my mother made me
promise to keep going to church.
There was one 14 year old boy in the workshop who took a
particular shine to photography. Even after the workshop ended, he found me to
show me his photographs. He let me help him position the camera and focus, and
even with the language barrier and his inherent shyness, by the end of the
evening, we were laughing and sharing stories. It was so easy to form a
relationship with him. It just took time and intention.
I am learning that with the Lazarus Project, as well. It is
easy to build relationships with the people that we meet, as long as we take
the time to do it and have intention. Sometimes it takes me nearly thirty
minutes to complete the five minute walk from King’s Cross Station to my house,
because I pass several of my mates along the way, and I stop to see how they
are. It doesn’t matter that they sleep rough and that I sleep in a bed. We are
still friends.
Taking the time to be intentional is something I am learning
about quite a bit these days. Time is one of my most precious commodities. I
have learnt over the past five years that God is faithful with my finances. I
can trust Him to provide the money for my rent, for food and transport, and
even for the visa that I need to renew in July. But I still worry a lot about
time. And time is the most precious thing that I can give the people that we
meet through Lazarus, or through Taboo Arts Internships, or in evangelism.
Because through time I can build relationships, and through our relationship,
they can meet their Saviour and take the first steps into new life.
And maybe I won’t get all of the photos edited and all of
the facebooks updated that day. Maybe I won’t complete my to-do list. And maybe
I don’t need to.
