You Know When You Get a Massage

You know you're the wife of a youth pastor when you consider a shirt-signing as good as a professional back rub.

Not that I have much to compare with. I've had one professional massage and I won it through a TV contest.  I had an amazing massage with a nice masseuse who was a also a mom and Nathan got a didn't-know-he-had-such-a-small-personal-space massage with a crunchy lady named Luna. But, that's another story.

Last week I was on the High School Mission Trip to Bliss, Idaho. We headed to this tiny town, population 318 (including the cows and goats from what I hear) to put on a "Mega Sport Camp" with soccer and VBS.  It was an amazing week with more stories of God's goodness than I could ever record. (Come this Sunday, July 24th, to the 6pm service at EBC to hear some of them--and to see photos!)

Here I am at my 'post'

My 'post' during the club was the registration table and as I was working on the slide show to view at the final closing, the teens started signing camp shirts.  Since I was on a short time allowance and I still had to still trim 23 minutes down to 6 (hey--I started at 56 minutes and was making good progress), I kept working on my slide show while the youth swarmed around me with Sharpies.  It wasn't too long until one came my way--"will you sign my shirt....can I sign yours?"  Absolutely, yes, I will sign yours.

Now, you'd think it would be easy for me to want mine signed in return...but with a stash of 15 mission trip tee's, I actually have always avoided getting my shirt signed.  Not really sure why--maybe it's the whole idea of writing on a brand new tee, or maybe I'm weird about being touched so much....not sure...I'll have to think more on why.

But for the first time, I thought to myself, 'really Kelsey, what's the big deal? Let them sign your shirt.'

So, it started.
And man, oh man.
Why have I waited so long!?
It was like a mini-back rub--that kept coming and coming. 
It felt so wonderful.
Ahh.....
yes, please sign my shirt.

Bummer, I should have started 15 years ago on this shirt signing thing.  Step aside, Luna!

PS-I did finish my slide show and "Mega" (aka Tyler) helped me trim it down to the right length!

 See, everyone is smiling!  It's a good thing!

You Know When You Play

You know you're the wife of a youth pastor when even a family trip to the local children's museum becomes a scouting expedition on ways you could improve the youth building.

How cool would this carpet be?  If a spot gets stained...just peel it out and put in a new one!

And a MAGNETIC wall!?! What?!  Way too fun!

You Know When you live in Reality

You know you're the wife of a youth pastor when you live in alternate realities.

This last weekend, I had the joy of spending three days with 41 JH Students/Cooks/Staff on a Winter Retreat. It was a blast!  We had one of the greatest group of kids one could imagine--no drama, no dating couples (yeah--that could have impacted the drama level), great attitudes, intense questions and meaningful conversation...I could go on.  But back to the reality part...

People say that working in youth ministry keeps one young.  I'd like to think this is true.  Friday night a few of the girls asked how old I was and I replied, "I don't tell my age, you have to guess." When they guessed my age (based on my youthful appearance of course) a decade younger than my actual age, I hugged them and claimed them as my new BFF's.  One blissful night of living in my alternate reality.

Then. Saturday came.

I heard the voice of a JH boy from across the room, "Mom!.....Mom!...."  I ignored it. Surely, that voice wasn't calling for me.  After all, I recognize the voices of my own children, and that was not either of mine that were there (not that I COULD have my own children in the JH group--you know, being in my 20's and all).  AND I was still reveling in a blissful reality of endless youth...it just wouldn't be possible to have someone to need me as a mom or to call me mom.  But...."Mom!" still came.  Yep, it was for me.  I was needed. As "Mom." It made me smile and I realized, I was perhaps even more happy to play the role of "Mom" for this student for the weekend than to maintain my false idealization of unattainable youth.

Sometimes reality isn't so bad after all.

Here am I participating in a youthful activity this weekend.

Our amazing group!

 With the staff--all young at heart.

You Know With a Rubber Chicken

You know you're the wife of a youth pastor when your hubby can find a rubber chicken without any trouble.

My husband slipped out of church to prepare for youth group and as he left,I whispered to him, "For the games I will need two white boards, two markers and the rubber chicken." He replied, "I know right where the chicken is."