Tag Archives: salvation

Does He put it on a shelf?

I was three. It seems I’d been pondering this awhile. I was told that I should give my heart to Jesus. Now I wanted to know what He was going to do with it.

If I give my heart to Jesus, does he put it on the shelf?

Well that’s what my mother says I asked. I don’t remember what she answered, probably nothing too complicated. I was three.

Still her answer was enough assurance for me. I decided I would gladly give my heart to the one who had made me and loved me so much.

You can tell me I was too young to make that decision, but I stuck with it. So you would be wrong.

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This time last year I was going through some tough stuff. I can remember sitting on the corner of my mom’s bed as she told me to make sure I was guarding my heart. Judging from the heartache I experienced I’d have to say I didn’t listen very well.

I was listening to the song All I Can Say by David Crowder Band not long ago and I realized something. When I was trying to deal with all that hurt I knew in my head that God wanted to comfort me. But in my heart I saw him staring down at me shaking His head and saying, “I told you so.” I kind of figured that He knew I deserved it, so He didn’t mind that I hurt.

As I listened to that song I realized that not only did He care immensely but the whole time He was crying with me.

I thought you might need to know… He’s crying too.

I didn’t notice You were standing here
I didn’t know that
That was You holding me
I didn’t notice You were cry’n too
I didn’t know that
That was You washing my feet

Listen to the rest here: All I Can Say – David Crowder Band

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The Tale of the Little Artist

The last time I wrote here I said that I can’t rely on all of my kids coming to program. I wrote that having just been reminded of the fact.

I was handing out registration forms with my new partner, Timo, and my last year partner, Spencer. Spencer just can’t stay away it seems. I can’t say I blame him!

I believe it was the fifth house we stopped at. I was so glad when my little friend’s mother answered the door. She’s great. She’s probably the mother that I find it easiest to talk to and it was just nice to see her again.

Now this little boy had really made his way into my heart two summers ago. He was shy, and he was an artist. In fact I’ll call him that, The Little Artist.

At the end of the summer my Camp Director had allowed us to choose which kids we’d like to take on the last trip. I had stubbornly refused to choose a child: no favourites! The next day he was allowing the volunteers to choose kids, someone asked for the Little Artist and he told her that he was already chosen. He’d knowingly given him to me.

This time last year his mother had thought that the timing wasn’t going to work out very well and was hesitant to send her son to our after school program. I think we won her over with how much we wanted him to come. We didn’t mind if we might have to wait around in the snow for awhile, we just wanted him to come!

He came and it was a great year. You should see that boy draw an Nintendo Wii! Wow! We made plans to play Nintendo DS together some time, but we haven’t yet arranged a time. He did however come to Harbour Front for ice cream and to play at the park near the end of last year.

He came to summer camp again this year… and I’d say he wasn’t nearly as shy as last year.

Anyways, let’s make our way back to the fifth doorway of the day. His mother answered with a sad look on her face, “My Little Artist moved back to his old school this year, he’s going to their after school program…” Turns out the times that Camp Peace runs just weren’t going to work with the families schedule this year.

I asked if I could give her a form anyways… just to make me feel better. She took it and the picture and note I’d brought for her son.

She thanked me for how good we’ve been to him.

I told her to tell him that if I could I would come by with my Nintendo DS.

I managed not to stand there and cry.
I almost did as we were walking away.

That night I told two of the second year interns, “The Little Artist isn’t coming.” They were sad for me, neither knew him, but they sure knew of him.

I decided to tell you all of this because rather than sitting here feeling bummed out I was thanking God for the great things He’s done.

I was so blessed last year with how many of my kids received Christ. Suddenly at the end of the year my WordUP class (or Bible story class) was filled with amazing little Christ followers. My Artist friend wasn’t much of a talker and I never thought he listened much to our lessons. One day I was teaching something about Heaven and one of the other little Christ loving kids made a comment about Hell. I brushed it off and continued with my planned lesson.

At the end of the lesson Little Artist raised his hand and asked a question! “What’s Hell?” He asked. I knelt down and gave him a three minute gospel story. Then we continued with our day.

Two weeks later, the last week of camp, we were walking to camp and he proclaimed to the group: “Today, I’m going to ask Jesus to take away my sins.”

I was so excited: “When!? When we get to camp??? After WordUP? You could do it right now!!!”

“Um, tonight before I go to bed.”

“Oh… will you tell me about it tomorrow?”

“[My brother] erased all the games off my R4!” An R4 is a DS attachment, he’d closed to subject it seemed.

When we got to camp Vader taught his WordUP lesson.  At the end he thought he’d ask our supervisor to pray before we started our homework, but the Little Artist raised his hand and volunteered.

“God, Give us a good day and TAKE AWAY ALL OF MY SINS! Amen.”  He then turned around and exclaimed, “Haha I tricked you!”

I leaned over three rows of chairs and gave him a high five. Later I told him that there was a big party going on in Heaven as I danced around during our snack time.

So my artist friend won’t be at camp in October.
But he’ll be in Heaven one day… And I’ll surely see him before then.


Basketball...
Not to us, O Lord, not to us
But to your name be the glory,
Because of your love and faithfulness.
-Psalm 115:1

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