Back to Serpent River, or when God’s ways are higher than ours.

Originally Published: August 27, 2018

As promised, we’re back here again talking about Serpent River.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with what exactly ‘Serpent River’ is, I’d encourage you to go check out my last post or just check out this info video on Serpent River below this paragraph. The video talks about the series of missions trips I’ve been a part of that are centred around the Serpent River First Nations reserve, where myself and a team of another Toronto Christians run a two-week long daycamp. For those who are familiar, well I suppose that was a bit of a refresher.

This post is going to be modeled a little differently from previous ones. I didn’t know how to format this blog and also wanted to spice things up and but most importantly it was originally written as more of a daily journal than anything else. I hope you’ll enjoy journeying with me as events unfold in the order that they did to me.

I’m just warning all of you’ll this blog is going to be longer than normal blogs. We did not intend it to be like this it just happened to be like this.

Any who, without further ado, let’s jump in.

Day #1 – Saturday, August 11, 2018

It’s amazing what God can fit into a day, especially one that also includes 7 hours of driving.

Our journey began at around 9:30 at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Scarborough as I and five other team members bundled into a van to set off for the long ride. After the aforementioned 7 hours of driving, and a few pits stops at such thrilling sideshow attractions as an overpriced Licks, and a rural Tim Hortons, we arrived in Serpent River.

Our six-person team was made up of people who, for whatever reason, couldn’t come for the first week of camp, so when we arrived, the majority of the DOXA/Daystar crew of which we were a part had already been there for a week, and were presently celebrating pow wow (also happening that weekend) alongside the rest of the indigenous community. We quickly got into the festivities, to a very warm welcome–I heard several times that the kids from the previous week had been asking where Cricket was. I was surprised to be honest–like, why me? I only knew them for three years in total. I wouldn’t say I built many relationships with any of them. I felt proud and bit surprised to be honest. I felt joy that they remember me and surprised that they cared enough to ask where’s Cricket. That began to melt my heart. Not literally.

We spent about two hours at pow wow that day, and then trekked down to Stockwater beach, where one of our teammates planned to be baptised. It was amazing to hear his testimony and learn about how powerfully God had worked in his life; evidently, I was not the only one who was inspired, because promptly after he came up out of the water, another of our team asked to be baptised as well.

Day #2 – Sunday, August 12, 2018

Our second day was mainly spent in preparation for the week–physically, in terms of prepping the building for camp, but also very much spiritually.

First thing in the morning, we headed to the nearby town of Elliot Lake. We worshiped that morning at Grace Christian Center, a church that our team had been attending on this trip for several years now. The spirit was definitely moving that day, as the pastor preached on ‘demystifying prophesy.’ Without going into too much superfluous detail, his point was that, though not all Christians will receive specific revelations of the future that they are to share with others, all Christians are called to prophesy to each other by speaking encouragement through the promises of God. Whether we are in season or out of season–feeling it or not–the promises of God are always true, and we can build each other up when we remind each other of them.

Day #3 – Monday, August 13, 2018

On Monday, camp started with a bang. Or at least it felt that way, as we were all a little shell shocked by the time the last kid funneled out just past four.

In a word, it was exhausting. Really, it wasn’t anything new or terrifically unexpected–I’d done the same thing the last year and the year before. This year though, rather than working at camps all summer, I had been at a very relaxed placement, so the contrast was a shock to the system.

On top of that, a lot of our planning fell apart when the kids actually started…y’know being kids. One specific child, six-year-old David, was easily riled up, and would often attack the other children; I offered to watch him, which led to some interesting and colourful experiences.

It felt as if the preparation that we had done leading up to the week, and the night before, had all been for nothing. However, in remembering the lesson of the last two days, we were able to stick it out. Although we felt our strength was exhausted, we relied on those promises that the pastor talked about and did our best to build each other up.

Also, seeing our two newly-baptised team members at work was downright inspiring. As one of our leaders, Sarah, pointed out later in the week, right after Jesus’ baptism, He went into the desert and was tempted by the devil; too see my co-workers go from such a spiritual high point to a place of difficulty and adversity and still give it their all was amazing to see.

Day #4 – Tuesday, August 14, 2018

The second day of camp was really a testament to what could happen when we relied on God’s power, rather than ours.

Camp itself ran a little more smoothly, as we tried to be more humble and communicative than the day before. It’s funny, it was in turning away from the organization issues and focusing on relationships that those issues were worked out.

I felt that I was able to build more bonds with the youth that day than I had before. One always seemed to want to play ball and listen to music with me, which may seem small, but it was more meaningful to me. My intention for coming on this trip was to build meaningful and lasting relationships, and in this moment, I was given a glimpse of what that might look like.

After that little taste of opportunity, I had a few more tastes–but this time, a little cheesier. Literally. While most of the kids left for the park, my small group of youth (there were about three of them) stayed at the Lifestyle Centre for “Leaders in Training” and spent the afternoon making Kraft Dinner. It was great to see them compete and problem solve as they followed the recipe, but also figured out how to add in some additional secret ingredients, and it gave me another glimpse of the path I’ve chosen for my life.

Okay, maybe not all of youth work is about making Kraft Dinner, but is it too much to hope that some of it might be?

Day #5 – Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Another reason why Tuesday was much quieter than Monday was that David wasn’t able to come that day. And while it was nice to have some time to hang out with the youth without worrying if David would get into a fight, I did miss the little guy.

Wednesday he was back in action–and oh boy, what action.

Since we all sort of realized that he needed more support, another staff member and I volunteered to accompany him throughout the day, to make sure that he was having fun and engaging, while also being there to (sometimes physically) hold him back to keep the other kids safe. We had our work cut out for us, as at several point throughout the day, his physical and verbal attacks on other staff and children necessitated pulling in even more staff to calm him down and cordon him off.

This could have been incredibly demoralizing; some of the things he was talking about, no six-year-old should even have to think about. Yet, God carried us through the day as we relied on His strength.

We soon learned that, really more than anything, he first needed an outlet for his emotion. Fortunately, we just so happened to have a supply room off of the gym that was full of padding, squishy toys, and even a literal punching bag. What became known as “The Punching Room” was the perfect release for him

On top of that, I also realized that the way to calm him down was right in front of me–right in the proverbial eye of his angry metaphorical storm–the whole time. Here was a kid who was angry at the world, and he really had every right to be in a lot of ways–life had not been kind to him, even as young as he was. What he really needed was to be loved and cared for, and to really feel and recognize that care. That, of course, is easier on paper–how can you really make someone feel that they’re loved? I still don’t know if I have the answer, but if by me trying I made his time at camp a little better, then I am content.

(That being said, one easy answer is to set up a slip and slide and let him play to his heart’s content. Slip and slides are always the answer.)

After all the kids had gone home, we rounded off the night with a barbecue dinner provided by one of the families to which our team had grown close over the years. To call it a ‘barbecue’ is underselling it a little–it was really more of a feast, with barbecued components. It was a great time of bonding for everyone on the team and allowed us all some time to chill and build relationships, not just with the locals, but with our other team mates too.

After a day that was mentally and physically draining, this was exactly what I needed. Reflecting on it, I honestly felt like God wanted me to work with David–maybe even wanted me to come on this trip for that very reason. That’s the amazing thing about God: He equipped our team with different strengths and weaknesses, which made our team strong enough to handle any task that comes our way, but only when we turn to the source of our strength. I realized when we rely on the God, anything is possible.

Plus, I got to ride an ATV, which has been on my bucket list ever since I started my bucket list, so that’s cool.

Day #6 – Thursday, August 16, 2018

Thursday was, in many ways, more of the same as Wednesday.

While it was my plan to be involved in “Leaders in Training” with the older group, it soon became evident that I would again be spending my day working one on one with David. By that point, I was beginning to figure out that my plan wasn’t the one I was going to end up following (cue God’s Plan by Drake), and I was alright with that.

By the afternoon, we were at the park, and I was uncharacteristically exhausted–they don’t call me Cricket because I sit on the bench and let the kids play, but this time, I had to do basically that. However, my teammates stepped in to support me, and David’s aggression was limited to a few minor sand-based incidents.

I also buried myself in the stand again, which has become its own tradition. Maybe it was a metaphor this year?

Day #7 – Friday, August 17, 2018

Friday was a fun day, but it was also a sad day.

Going into it, we knew it would be the last time we’d see the kids until the next year, but we were also reaching our limits energy-wise and were ready to finish strong. An air of bittersweet melancholy hung over the staff as the morning began, but honestly, that was all swept away as we fell into having a great time with the kids.

The latter half of the day was to be a carnival, so David assisted in helping out some of the other staff preparing things, by which I was very impressed. Earlier in the day, he had also participated fully in an activity for possibly the first time that week–making slime–so the kid was on a roll. It made me very proud, because I could see the potential in him. He’s not just an angry kid, even though he may seem that way at first.

Like David, the youth in the “Leaders in Training” team stepped up as well, helping to run parts of the morning session. Small things again, but it was such an encouragement to see their leadership grow even in just a few days.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, it was over. The last kid left the building, and we were left with the building, now empty and in need of a good scrubbing.

As much as we all would have liked to crash onto our air mattresses and sleep for the next decade or so, we held off just long enough to clean the building, scoot lethargically to Lucky’s (the local chip stand) to stuff just a few more deep-fried foods into our mouths, and back to the lifestyle centre to swap some encouragements.

And then being young adults, we all stayed up for a few more hours anyway to watch a movie (or start a blog post).

Day #8 – Saturday, August 18, 2018

This was our last morning we were in Serpent River. We all did our final cleanup and had our daily team meeting and then started loading up the vehicles. From there, just imagine the first day, but in reverse.

On the way home, I thought about all the emotions that were running through me that day. I was happy that I was going to see my family & friends back home, and relieved to finally be able to relax, but I was also sad, because really, two weeks (or one on my part) are not enough to share all the love that I’d like to this community.

This whole trip felt overwhelming with stuff from school, my personal life, and the stresses of camp, and missing people from home all weighing on me. Coming into this week, I wanted a break, but soon realized I wasn’t going to get that. It wasn’t a vacation; it was tiring, and exhausting at times. But it was good.

I was here to serve God and build His kingdom, and I know that that is what I did. I was overwhelmed with the stuff that I needed to handle, but through it all, I felt the Holy Spirit working in me, giving me that extra push when I needed the most. As it says in Acts 17:28, “in him we live and move and have our being” –and run day camp, even when we’re overwhelmed.

I want to thank all the people that supported our team financially and through prayer; it was needed, and it was felt. I don’t know how the future looks like for me and don’t know what God has in store for me, but I do desire to return back to Serpent River in the next couple years.

I may be tired, but God is not, and He’s not done yet.

Serpent River; or, first mission trip

Originally Published: August 6, 2018

Content warning: Discussion of residential schooling and other impacts of colonialism on indigenous peoples.

“The kingdom of God is like a summer camp.”

I don’t remember where I first heard that–I know it’s not technically scriptural, cuz really summer camps weren’t a thing circa 32 CE, unless you count the 40-year summer camp that the Israelites threw on their way out of Egypt–but I digress.

I don’t remember where I first heard that, but I know it’s just one of the dozens of “the kingdom of God is like” phrases that I’ve heard in my time as a young Christian, and let me tell you, it’s not easy to keep that thing straight. Is the kingdom of God like a mustard seed? Or a pearl? What about a king settling his debts, but being forgiving? Or maybe, you’re more familiar with the house of mouse, and when I say kingdom, you think of magic, shooting stars, and epically-long lines.

However, you understand the kingdom, I’m certain that none of us will ever truly understand it, just like we won’t understand its king, until we see Him face to face. Yet, we’re called to try our best, with God’s help, to build the kingdom here and now.

And so, we get back to our opening: “the kingdom of God is like a summer camp.”

The past two summers, I’ve had the opportunity to squish with a group of Christian young (and young at heart) people into a small fleet of cars and minivans and drive 5+ hours North West of Toronto to the small town of Cutler, Ontario. Unbeknownst to some, this area is home to one of the most lovely, welcoming group of people I’ve ever worked with, the Anishinabe First Nation of Serpent River.

We, Youth Unlimited/DOXA, partner with the local reserve leadership and the Daystar Christian Native Outreach organization to run a two-week long day camp, for which we each individually fundraise so that it’s completely free for the children. Before you know it, it’s Monday morning, and the smiling faces come streaming in, overjoyed that Daystar is back for another year.

Now, if you’re at all familiar with the history of Canada’s indigenous peoples after the arrival of European colonialism, I’m sure the red flags have already started popping up. If you’re not familiar, well I’m probably not the best one to explain, but the long and short of it is that Christians have a long history of acting very un-Christlike towards our indigenous neighbours.

I could say “residential schools,” and leave it there, and that would be bad enough–the forced removal of indigenous children from their families with the intention to ‘Christianize’ and ‘civilize,’ as if the former could be taught in a school and the latter was ours to teach. And a lot of the kids didn’t make it out (it doesn’t count as Christianity if the only crosses are the ones in the cemetery. What kind of school has a cemetery?). Unfortunately, that wasn’t all.

Running a Christian summer camp on a reserve less than 25 years after the last of these ‘schools’ shut down is a little tough, especially since we’re going up with what is, on paper, the same goal: to build the kingdom. As Christians, we need to have a frank discussion about what the kingdom means, in order to make sure we act with humility, care, and compassion, within these hurt relationships.

For my part, I have seen the kingdom at Serpent River.

My first year (Summer 2016) was a bit of an ice breaker for me. The Youth Unlimited/DOXA team had already been going up for about 7 years–some of the people would swap out, but a few had stayed the same from the beginning–so the community was familiar with the team, but not with me. Regardless, they were warm and welcoming, and I felt genuinely wanted. Those couple weeks were all about meeting the kids and getting to know who they are: their colourful, unique, energetic, (sometimes tiring,) awesome selves. It was the beginning of the process, for me, of building a positive relationship with them.

In the summer of 2017, I worked at deepening these relationships, and found myself moved by one kid especially. Even if the rest of the trip had sucked, this kid would have made the whole thing worthwhile. Little guy had a smile that could light up the room, even if he occasionally ran up its walls.

Fixated on my own ever more busy life back home and dissuaded by a few setbacks that we saw that week, I wondered whether it was worth it to come back the next year; bonding with this kid showed me that I had my priorities misplaced. When I’m working with these children, I can tell that it’s making a difference in their lives, and that’s why I continue to do it. It’s not a forced difference, or something we brought from Toronto with the intention to change lives; rather, I felt that I was helping to meet the needs that all of us have. We all need to be loved and cared for; we all need an opportunity to be ourselves–to run up the walls and to smile; we all need to know that there is something beyond ourselves that loves us and made us unique. This is what building the kingdom looks like.

My co-workers at my current city job always ask me questions like, “how do you always have so much energy?” and “how do you come 30 minutes before work every day?” I tell them that I put the effort and sweat and dedication into this job because I love doing what I am doing.  I’m fortunate that God has given me something I love doing, and that has supported me. I also know that, at the end of the day, what I’m doing is not just for me. When I work with children, I’m working for them. Ministry isn’t about adding more names to a ledger, or more souls to a scale; it’s about caring deeply and personally for each and every person we have the privilege to interact with.

So, this is how we build kingdom: by building relationships. The kingdom of God is like an inspiring child who makes us want to be better leaders. The kingdom of God is like kids who run to you and remember your name, even when they only see you for one or two weeks a year. The kingdom of God is like a community that would welcome us–people who look like those who hurt them so much, while the pain is still fresh–with open arms. It is not like taking a child from their home and erasing their culture. It is not like forcing ‘God’ down a neighbour’s throat as you force her off her land. It is not like what has been done, and on behalf of those who did those things in the name of my God, I am so, so sorry. The kingdom of God is like the forgiveness these people have shown me, even when I fail to hold up my end of reconciliation as a modern Canadian who still benefits from this evil.

The kingdom of God is like a summer camp: one I’m excited to be a part of.

This year’s Daystar summer camp in Serpent River started today, Monday August 8. I’m not there right now, but I’m heading up on Saturday to see my friends again. If you’re the praying type, please ask our Father to build His kingdom with us these coming weeks. I’m so, so excited to see what will happen, and I’ll be back in two weeks to share it all with you. This is about relationships after all, and I’m overjoyed that I’m able to have that with the person reading this right now.

Talk to you again soon, and as always, stay grateful.

Suicide; or, dealing with the devil

Originally Published: July 23, 2018

CONTENT WARNING: This post deals with sensitive topics, including depression and suicide. Please don’t read any further if you think this may be triggering to you. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need someone to talk to. Take care of yourselves, friends.

Even though I am part of God’s family, life isn’t always easy. Just like living a Christian life doesn’t add any money to your wallet, it also doesn’t add any glamour to your life. You face tough times–I know I’ve had my fair share. I’ve found that in some of these cases, the difficulty can help us draw closer to God, but it can still be a scary, painful, and lonely process at times.

Call it art or call it science–conversation also isn’t easy. Not only do you have to someway convey your nebulous and inconcrete thoughts through an often-faulty language system, but before you start all that, you have to find someone who’s willing to listen to you, a resource that can be few and far between for some of us.

A terrifying situation occurs when both of these issues–trials and conversation–come together. It is often when we are at our lowest that we feel the most alone.

I went through a time like this as I worked (or rather, struggled) to complete my final semester

at Centennial College for Police Foundations. Regular school pressures, mixed with boiling-over workaholism, combined with several dozen dashes too many of other personal issues resulted in a sickly stew of a situation that quickly became too much for me (when David talked of having nothing to eat but his own tears, I wonder if they had a similar taste?). Around this point, I had several nights where I cried myself to sleep, and I thought about committing suicide.

I literally thought my life was falling apart. More than that, from the vantage point inside my own head, it was.

The change came through conversation with some people that I trusted, who helped me to realize that I could give this time and these stresses to God. Rather than giving pat answers or throwing information at me to work out on my own, they gave me a perspective from their vantage points–they took me out of my own head and showed me that, though something was certainly falling on it, it wasn’t the sky.

I gave myself a chance to rest, prayed, and gave it all into God’s hands. I ended up finishing the semester with good grades. Now I have a diploma in Police Foundation and am currently pursuing further education in Child and Youth Care. I know I didn’t do any of this by myself, and I’m so thankful for the people who took the time to meet me on my level, and the God who is even sturdier than the sky.

The great thing about God is that, while He may not take us out of the storm, He always takes us through it. The devil only attacks what’s valuable–if the enemy can’t keep you frustrated in failure, he will try to keep you from enjoying success you have. But in this, we can see how valuable we are to God. He does not let us go, even to the point of sending Jesus to suffer and die just like us, so that we could share in His resurrection, and never have to leave His side.

We were made to be in relationship–in conversation–with God and with others. When we become prisoners of our own minds, we can start believing the lie that this was never meant to be–that we are alone.

Alone that is, except for our thoughts. When I wanted to commit suicide, it was like facing a monster who had taken up residence in me and wouldn’t vacate. Where I went wrong originally was in believing that I needed to, or even could, fight Him alone. It was only with God and through His work through others that we managed to kick that demon to the curb.

Aside from my own story, I have also had a couple friends who contemplated suicide. I have since realized how desperately the majority of them wanted to be heard. They needed someone to listen to them. They needed a friend, one who could shine a light when they were in their darkest.

To those who want to be this friend, remember: we’re all fighting our own battles. No two sadnesses are the same; no two depressions are the same; no two reactions are the same. This means we need to be listeners first. Don’t judge someone’s story by the chapter you walked in on. Don’t judge people for the choices they make when you don’t know the options they had to choose from. Don’t judge their bruises before you see the other guy.

To those who are still fighting, remember: one lost battle doesn’t mean the war is lost. Don’t believe the lies that the enemies shout–there are reinforcements. You were not made to fight alone.

And to both of you, remember: at different times, and in different places, we are both the friend and the fighter. We’re broken, and we’re weak, and that’s okay. We have a God who is neither of those, but He knows what it feels like to be a human, to feel pain, to cry, and to bleed. Be real with Him. He doesn’t expect your prayers to be perfect, because He doesn’t expect you to be perfect.

Accepting Christ doesn’t mean your life is magically going become easier but knowing that God is by your side every step of the way is what really matters. It’s hard to wrap your head around, I know, but it’s true.

Remember that even when you feel you don’t have anyone to talk to, God’s always there by your side. Remember that you’re worth it and God made you for a purpose. Remember that God created you– you’re his child. We continue to sin, but he still loves us unconditionally for who we are. Just remember that you have the Lord above all Lords by your side every step of the way.

As it says in Joshua 1:9 (which quickly became my favourite verse), “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

You are many things. You are loved. You are important. You are worth fighting for. But most importantly, you are not alone.

Thanks for sticking with me. Talk to you in the next one and remember to always stay grateful.

Below, we’ve included links to some organizations that specialize in helping people manage depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. If you just need a friend to talk to, please, don’t hesitate to contact us. You’re worth it.

https://suicideprevention.ca/

http://ospn.ca/

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Worry; or, scars of the past, visions of the future

Originally Published: July 9, 2018

If you know me in person, you know how much I worry about the future. And, well, if you don’t know me in person, it’s about time you found out.

I’m pretty sure we all worry about the future from time to time. We’re trained to be worriers from a young age–I think I saw a third grader with university pamphlets the other day! –so we get pretty good at it. If there was an Olympics for worrying though, I’d get gold, all the while worrying if I’d even make it to the podium (do you get style points for extracurricular worrying?).

Don’t get me wrong though! I’m not an empty worrier; I’m one of those guys who has their whole future planned ahead of them to the inch. Not only do I know how many kids I want, but I can also tell you their names, what car we’ll all trundle around in, where we’ll live, where we’ll be on our honeymoon (hopefully before the kids get here), and what flavour the wedding cake will be that’ll start it all off. Don’t even get me started, because I will literally not stop.

Anyway, you get the picture. I worry a lot, and I talk about my future a lot.

I suppose the question that comes next is: why?

Growing up, people didn’t quite ask me about my future so much as they took it and dragged it through the mud. You see, I’ve got a learning disability, which wasn’t always quite as apparent or manageable as it is now that I understand it. People basically just thought I was an idiot, as they never neglected to remind me, hurling oh-so original insults like “stupid” and “dumb,” and telling me that I wouldn’t get anywhere in life. To their credit, my parents tried their best, but they still had to go through a lot for me and didn’t always react in the most positive ways. I was often compared to my sister who received high marks–I would come home with poor grades, only to be yelled at.

Of course (he says humbly), that’s no longer the case. People are proud of what I have turned into, and I’m confident in my strengths. Furthermore, I’ve learned to surrender not only my weaknesses but my strengths as well to God, whose strength is immeasurably more than mine, and whose power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Yet, the scars remain, and come through as worry. As I said, I try each day to surrender everything to God, my future included, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

In 2015, for example, I thought that I would be going into policing. If you’d asked me back then, that decidedly over-detailed map of the future would have featured me as a cop (maybe even with little police hats for the kids). However, as I ventured further and further into my police foundations course, I became more and more concerned about whether this was the path for me. Burdened with anxiety of not only the already stressful classwork, but also the worry of how this misfitting career might affect my pristine future, I barely made it out of that program alive, let alone with a certificate (more on that in two weeks).

Yet, by the grace of God, I struggled out of that frying pan–into another fire: I had the certificate but no interest in the career. Rather than dwell of worry though, I asked God to provide a solution–a clue towards His perfect plan.

Soon enough, I found myself once again with Youth Unlimited and realized that what I wanted to do–even at the root of my interest in policing–was to work with at risk youth. Still a bit unsure, but emboldened, I asked for a sign. Soon after, I was accepted into George Brown College for Child and Youth Care.

Jesus lays down the steps of our lives, and it’s up to us to walk in them. At of the end of the journey, God’s plan will have us shining more brightly than any plan of our own. It’s God’s plans that conquer before anything else; we just have to trust in Him and let Him do His job. We may be distracted and lose track of our way, or run into barriers and obstacles that seem insurmountable, but our main goal is to always return to focus on the big picture, which is God. If we keep hold on that, there’s nothing that will stand in the way.  

At the end of the day, the best way to predict the future is to create it. In a very literal sense, only God can create the future, but He’s also the only way to keep track on our path to discover it. With that in mind–with the author of eternity as my personal guide–what do I have to be worried about?

Whenever someone asks me what my plan for the future is, I’ve begun to take a page out of James’ book–James 4:13-15 to be precise. While I have my own ideas for kids, cars, and cakes, ultimately, I know it’s all according God and whatever he wants me to do. My plan is to serve and live my life for the Lord until I meet Him face to face. If Youth Ministry is a part of that, I’d be happy. If it isn’t, well it isn’t the first time my plans have changed, and I seem to be alright so far.

I don’t know if this will ever come easy to me. To this day I still worry about my future. Will I get a job that can provide for my family? Will I have a family at all? What will this world look like in 10, 20, 50 years? What will I look like as part of the world? To all these questions and more, I don’t have answers. On good days the worry is a whisper and on bad days it’s a shout, but I’m learning to listen to God above it all.

If you’re like me–if you’re an Olympic worrier–you’re not alone. Take solace in that. Furthermore, the history of our faith is full of people who worried just like us but chose to rely on God instead of their worry; we’re in good company. As Tyler Perry once said, “It doesn’t matter if a million people tell you what you can’t do, or if ten million tell you no. If you get one yes from God that’s all you need.” I believe that God is working on what we’re worrying about. While we’re worrying God is working.

Jesus orders our steps, even if we can’t see all of them right now. Take the first one in faith, and the rest will come.

Thanks again for listening. Talk to you again soon and remember to always stay grateful.

REMIX; or, dedicated listening

Originally Published: June 25, 2018

Confession time (ha, get it?): I’m a huge conference junkie.

I love going to the panels, doing the workshops, meeting all the people, and generally just having a high-focused place of learning. There’s just something about the dedication that radiates from a place like that–everyone is together for the same purpose, despite their different histories. One such conference, which I’d like to talk about today, is Toronto’s REMIX.

Run every year by DOXA, a division of Youth Unlimited (you might have heard of these guys before), REMIX is “a week-long interactive and hands-on urban mission experience designed to equip, train and inspire young leaders to ‘center their lives within the mission and message of Jesus.”1 It’s an awesome week of workshop-style training in the morning, hands on mission activities in the afternoon, and rip-roarin’ Jesus parties in the evenings to celebrate the day.

I had the opportunity to participate in REMIX 2016, and looking back, it was one of the most pivotal experiences of my life. I didn’t expect the week to be life-changing going in, but I ended up having a truly unique experience, even alongside hundreds of other youth. I often tell people that, within one week, I learned more things than I had learned in my previous 18 years on this planet.

At various points throughout the week, as a result of the teaching and the experiences I was able to have, I found myself brought to tears. I was so overwhelmed with joy that I was sobbing, and I felt that God was speaking through those tears, telling me with each drop a new lesson or word of encouragement. The things that happened that week fundamentally changed me and helped lead me to where I am today.

Next year, when the conference came around, how in the world could I pass it up? This time I documented some of the things God was speaking to me about (curse 2016 Cricket for not writing anything down!). One of the biggest things that He assured me of was that He actually does hear my prayers and anxious questions, and He actually does respond, according to His timing. Praying to Hindu gods, I used to ask questions upon questions, but never received any answers; now suddenly, I had found a God who not only answered my questions, but deeply cared about the person asking them. To me, this was a huge proof that Jesus Christ was the one and only true God. My biggest regret in life is not accepting Jesus earlier on in life, but really, if it’s all in His timing, do I really have anything to be regretful about?

When I say that that was one of the biggest things, that doesn’t mean it was the only thing. At every turn was a new lesson, as if God was not only answering the questions I’d already asked, but also ones I hadn’t yet thought of. Spiritual gifts, unconditional love, following how Jesus lived, forgiveness, companionship, purpose, money, and more–God talked to me about all of it, through the situations I found myself in, and most often, through the mouths of the people around me.  

One of the key points of this second REMIX I attended was the idea of listening–really listening–to those around us. In a way, that sorta sums up some of what REMIX has been for me: a time set aside to listen to God, and to others. If you focus too much on the daily grind, or yourself, or any number of distractions we have these days, you can forget to listen, but really, it is what is often the most important.

A time of listening was a starting point in my faith. I realized how God had worked in my life even though I was just starting my journey with him. Before I knew how to speak, God showed me the plans He had for me and the potential He saw in me. Now as I speak to people like you (yes you, reader), I remember that I still need to listen.

Thanks again for listening (ha, get it (again)?)! Talk to you in the next one and remember to always stay grateful.

Baptism; or, the time I was renewed

Originally Published: June 11, 2018

Welcome back everyone (not really sure why I start these like a lecture, but it’s my blog so I can do what I want.) This will probably be a short one. To quote Journey, I’m gonna try to keep it ‘sweet and simple’–well, I can’t really say if it’ll be sweet, but it will definitely be simple.

On May 1st, 2016 I was baptized at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church. For those of you who are new to the idea of baptism, allow me to give you a little context:

• Baptism is an outward demonstration of the grace of God at work in a person. It involves either total submersion in water or a little sprinkling of water on the forehead (depending on the church)
• In the Presbyterian church (see “St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church”), it’s mostly babies that are baptized, showing an understanding that God is already working in their lives, and it will be Him alone that saves them.
• I was of course, not a baby
• But that’s okay too

When I was baptised, it felt like when a child gets adopted into a new family. I’d already accepted Christ as my saviour, but this made the connection between me and all the other members of the church seem more vivid and powerful.

It was also a reminder of transformation. Before Christ I was like a caterpillar: limited to only what I can do (which, spoilers, isn’t a lot), unknowing of what was really out there and who God really was. Once I accepted Christ into my world, I felt like a butterfly, finally free from all the weights that held me down. I was free because Jesus died on the cross and forgave all my sins, and I really understood the passage from 2 Corinthians that says, “the old life has gone; a new life has begun.” Even though Pastor Duncan had only sprinkled water on my forehead, I remembered the feeling of breaking the surface of my past life, Christ pulling me into the sun.

After the baptism I was given a bible with the verse Joshua 1:9 emblazoned on the front. This has since become my favourite verse, and really speaks to what I learned through my transition to Christianity.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

I’d like to backpedal for a second though and talk a little bit more about the feeling of being adopted. Really, this idea of being brought into a family is what led me to be baptised at St. Andrew’s. I chose to get baptized here because it felt like a true family of God. I felt God’s presence and love in this church particularly through the people. They welcomed me in with open arms–a lone Sri Lankan boy amidst a sea of blue hair. God’s presence and love was shown through each one of these people. Every time I walk into church I felt the presence of God, and it’s not because of the stained glass. It’s the people who make the church, with every hug and handshake, every kind word and congratulation.

About a year later, I had the opportunity to have a full-submersion baptism in the Dominican Republic on my second missions’ trip there. Not many can say they got baptised two times, and for me, it was a chance to not only reaffirm my faith, but also to experience the symbol with other founding members of my church family. Sarah and Calvin, two of my leaders who have been instrumental in my faith development, dunked me in Pedernales, surrounded by a crowd of friends who had walked alongside me in my journey, and beside my good friend Michael, who was also taking the plunge.

Baptism means a lot of things, but I think to me, the most important part is that you are publicly telling people that Jesus has brought you into His kingdom. It’s a unification with the people around you, but also a personal, public identification with Jesus Christ. It’s crazy that a little bit of water can say all that, but I’m glad I had the opportunity to be a part of the story. It’s a story that’s bigger than me, bigger than us, and certainly bigger than any symbol we can use to describe it, and yet, Jesus personally, publicly asked me to come with Him. The least I can do is say yes as loud as I can.

Talk to you in the next one and remember to always stay grateful.

Money freak; or, how God provides for all

Originally Published: May 28, 2018

Money, when you boil it down, is all just numbers. Important numbers, yes–sometimes really fun numbers–but numbers nonetheless. The thing about numbers: they never end.

If you were to meet me a few years ago, you’d see someone who was addicted to this constant flow. Money made me happy, but my search for happiness was never ending, and never fulfilling. It was like a drug, a constant drip that I needed at all times; I worked seven days a week to get my fix. (Of course, I wouldn’t waste any of my hard-earned green on the other kind of green, so I really don’t know what being on drugs is like, but you get my meaning.)

Money was my centre–it was my idol. Imagine a man crawling endless circles around a dollar he could never quite reach, and you’ve got an image of my life, a nightmare, but I was fast asleep.

I woke up when I was mugged at knifepoint.

Armed robbery, you’ll agree, isn’t normally seen as a blessing, so you may be a little confused at this point (unless you read my last post, in which case–shhh no spoilers). Though my life didn’t literally flash before my eyes, the experience did make me consider what I still had. My family, my friends, and most importantly my God (who I was just getting to know at that point) still remained, much more valuable than an iPod and the contents of my wallet. I saw my idol carried away in the hands of a stranger, but the sky didn’t come crashing down. Instead, God gave me peace. In those moments, and in the time that passed afterwards, He opened my eyes, whispering quietly, “money isn’t everything, my son. I am the way, the truth, and the life. I hold the answers.” That’s really when my journey with Him began: when he broke my chains.

All of a sudden, I was rearranging my schedule and giving shifts away left and right (my brother benefited a lot in extra hours at around that time) in order to make sure I was where God wanted me to be. I still hung on a bit too much in some areas–old habits die hard–but at the beginning of 2018 I quit my main job, which was a big stressor, and suddenly what was once a seven-day work week became a three day one.

If you know me, you’ll know that cutting down on hours at work didn’t mean I was just lounging around the house. Rather, giving away my shifts allowed me to focus on other projects that were more important to me, but didn’t quite have the monetary return. It meant I could put in more of my time and passion into Young Adults ministry at my church, my YouTube channel, “My Walk With Christ” (not quite ready yet, ya keeners!), and this blog, as well as my friends and family. Really, the time since has just been an exercise in trusting God’s provision.

Don’t get me wrong–money is important, and in the society, we have, you need it to survive. Financial planning is important, and responsibility is key. However, I temper this with the understanding that in good and in bad, in rich and in poor, in struggle and celebration, God provides.

I’ve seen His provision a lot in my life. After quitting my stressful weekday job, I still needed some work (just not quite as much as before), and within a day I went to Bridlewood Mall (a mall nearby my house) They we’re hiring lead coaches.  I got an email for a practical interview then got the job. The job was to teach kids 18 months to 7 months to play soccer through games for a short time on Saturdays. Or, when I went on a mission trip to Serpent River last year (more on this in a later post I assure you), my fundraising came up short, but a couple tax return arrived just in the nick of time.

These may seem small examples to some, but they get at one of the most important things to understand about God’s provision: everything we have, big or small, comes from Him. Luke 21:1-4 says

“As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. ‘Truly I tell you,’ he said, ‘this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.’”

I believe we should all have the mentality of the poor widow, focusing more on the one who gave us our possessions, rather than the possessions themselves.

Likewise, in Matthew 6:24, Jesus says that “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” This doesn’t mean you can’t have money, or that it’s not useful, but that at the end of the day, you understand where it all came from, and make Him your priority.

If you’re like me and money has become more than just a tool–if it has become a distraction barring you from a relationship with Jesus–consider this your mugging. Let this be the sign to you that terrifying moment was for me.  Who or what is your first love? Only Jesus can fulfill that role without disappointment. Money will always fail you–trust me; I learned this first-hand.

You need to ask yourself, “do I trust Jesus or my money more?” I know how I used to be, and I thank God that I’m not that person any more. I don’t chase money now. Instead, to borrow from Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Philippians 3:14, “I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”

Talk to you in the next one, and remember to always, stay grateful.

Hinduism; or, the time I came to know Jesus

Originally Published: May 14, 2018                                                                                   

Welcome back to Confessions from Crickets! Whether you’re following up after the first blog post or finding my page fresh (if that’s you, read my introduction here), I want to sincerely thank you for joining me!

We covered a lot last time about what the goal of this blog is, why I made it, and why I hope you’ll engage with me in this dialogue, but I didn’t really get to tell you anything about myself (blame my editor. 20,000 words is too long for a blog post? Pssh).

Anyway, I thought that there was really no better place to start than at the beginning. Not the “I was born at a very young age” beginning though–no, at Confessions, we’re all about new beginnings…

Let’s talk about a guy called Jesus.

Our story begins in a Hindu household in Sri Lanka, a household that, though it saw Jesus as one of many gods, did not know Him in truth. My family and I moved from Sri Lanka to Toronto in September 2003, so about 15 years ago now. I can’t exactly remember the flight, what with my being 6 at the time, but I do know that if felt like an eternity (as 17+ hour flights are wont to do). My dad had already been living in Canada for two or three years, and had just enough money to bring us over, which left my mother to drag myself and my three siblings across the Atlantic without even a lick of English. 

We came from everything. In Sri Lanka, we had owned farms, swathes of land, and several of animals. When we came to Canada, however, we lost everything we had. We lived in our cousin’s basement before becoming able rent an apartment and eventually buying a condo from a family member. Looking back, this instability is probably one of the things that led to my long running fixation on money (but more on that later).

I had of course encountered Jesus growing up, but it wasn’t until I attended a camping trip with a Christian organization called Youth Unlimited that I really felt Him tugging at me to turn away from Hinduism. It was on that trip that I first asked Jesus to show me that He was the one and only true God.  A few months later, God answered my prayer by changing my heart.

For example, I used to be obsessed with money (told ya it’d come back!) and made it the most important thing in my life.  That all changed as I was walking home one day.

A stranger on the street asked me for the time, and after I pulled out my iPod and told him, he began to follow me.  Before I could do anything, he pulled out a knife and told me to give him all my stuff or he would stab me to death. By my continued existence, evidenced by this blog, you can guess what I did.

Even though I lost a lot of money to him and was very angry, this was the turning point for my faith. In a situation when I had all right to be overwhelmed by fear, regret, and hatred, God showed me who Jesus was by giving me peace. In the grand scheme of things, God reminded me, money really isn’t important. Instead, I was encouraged by His words in John 14:6: “I am the way and the truth and the light.” Now I put God before anything else.

A couple of months later at a DOXA Gathering (DOXA being a branch of Youth Unlimited), I shared this experience of peace with Alain Virgin and Calvin Russell– 2 DOXA staff– and told them that I wanted to make Jesus my God.  With their help, I prayed, saying “Jesus I just want you to accept me,” with the understanding that He is always waiting with open arms. It felt like I was being reborn into this world.

For the next few years, Jesus kept me in touch with DOXA staff who helped me to learn and follow. On May 1st, 2016 I was baptized at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church; it felt like an adoption (again, more on this at a later date).

Before Christ I was like a caterpillar: limited to only what I can do (which is not a lot), and unaware of what was really out there and who God really was. Once I accepted Christ into my world, I felt like a butterfly, finally free from all the things that had held me down and penned me in. I was free because Jesus died on the cross and forgave all my sins.

See; my insect references are not limited to crickets.

I been thinking a lot lately about how I live out my faith, especially in front of my family. Despite my conversion almost two years ago, my parents still do not know I am a Christian, but I think that this will be the year that I tell them. It’s a big risk, and potentially an even bigger sacrifice, as there is really know way to know how they will react. I am afraid that they will shun me–that I will essentially lose my family. I’m afraid that they may try to stop me. I’m afraid that they’ll think I’ve failed them. I’m afraid that I’ll see my mother cry because of something I have done. Still, in spite of all of this fear, in the long run I know it’s worth it. We were not given a spirit of fear, but of life.

I have a lot of feelings involving opening up and telling my parents, but I have learned to focus more on the positive–the possibilities–and less on the negative. I just need to put trust in God and let him guide me through. As hard as this is to do sometimes, God has done so many amazing things in my life, and if nothing else, this would be one way of showing Him that I love Him, and that I want to trust Him with everything. I can never repay, even in the slightest, the grace He has shown, but if I can tell those I love about it, at least I’ve done something, no matter the outcome.

Before I wrap up, I want to offer a quick piece of advice. Thank your parents. Really thank them for what they have done, even if they’re not the best parents (God knows too many aren’t). Regardless of how well they have done, our parents do provide a lot for us, and one way or another, they’ve influenced who we are today. Christ encourages us to look with eyes of compassion and gratitude; we need to recognize that our parents are human, just as flawed as us, but also be genuinely thankful for the sacrifices they have made for our benefit. You never know what strength a little gratitude can bring. 

Thanks again for listening! Talk to you in the next one and remember to always stay grateful.

Introduction; or, Why I’m Here

Originally Published: April 30, 2018                                                                                   

Why crickets? And better yet, what are they confessing?

If these are the questions that come to mind, having stumbled upon this humble corner of the internet, I’m not particularly surprised. If you’d like to find out, please, stick around. Put your feet up–get comfortable! If, on the other hand, you are an entomological romance enthusiast looking for your next juicy hit of pollination drama, this site may not be for you (phew).

Before we get too engaged in those dastardly chirping orthoptera (look at all these new words we’re learning!), allow me to introduce myself: my name is Kirushanthan Krishnapillai, also, and sometimes better, known as Cricket.

Now we’re catching on. Your faithful author is in fact the eponymous cricket (“Confessions of Cricket” just sounds stupid). As for the confessions–well we’re getting to that.

There are many reasons why this blog exists.

First and foremost, it is to serve as both a mirror and a road map of my life. I want to reflect and chart the transitioning of my life from a point where I had not yet met Jesus Christ (great guy–we’ll talk about him some more), to the time afterwards, and going forward.

Hopefully, in doing so, and sharing this weird mirror/map hybrid (a mirmap, if you will) with all of you, I will also accomplish my second goal, which is to be an encouragement and inspiration to you all, not out of my own successes (or more often than not, failures), but because of how God has worked in them. In some of the darker moments of my life (this won’t be all insect jokes), I have needed reminders that God was indeed beside me. I hope that I can be that reminder to others.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, this is also an act of worship. We have a God that is bigger than any imagining, and yet he is actively and genuinely engaged in our lives–in my life. This blog is a way to say thanks–for all the ways I have been blessed, all the people who have joined me along the way, and every opportunity I have been given. This one’s for you, Dad.

These posts will be “confessions” from me, but not in the typical sense of admitting my wrongdoings (though I’m sure there will be some of that). More often than not, my “confession” will be like that referenced in Romans 10:9, confessions of the awe inspiring, one hundred percent evident power of Jesus in my life. The blog will be a look at my everyday life as an everyday sinner, who has been transformed by the grace of Christ. My experiences presented here, both big and small, secular and religious, momentous and day-to-day, show the fingerprints of a God who makes it all matter.

And that’s pretty much it. Simple, right? I hope you follow the leading of whatever brought you here and stick around for a bit. I’ve got lots of stuff planned for the coming weeks, months, and years (who knows?), and I’d be honored if you’d join me. This is my journey with Christ, and I’d love to take you on the ride with me, as we share moments with Christ and talk about the things I have learned along the way. Fasten your seatbelt and get ready for the ride. Welcome to the family.

One last thing. Before I sign off this first post, I just wanted to take a moment to thank one person in particular for helping me make all this possible. This brother of mine is named Stephan Goslinski. He’s been beside me through this, since the very beginning. He’s kind of like my manager in way; for each blog he rereads, revises, edits and make sure it’s perfect before posting the blog (a lot of the vocabulary is his. So is this comment. This is getting really meta). This really is a team effort, and I can’t explain how grateful I am for having him as a friend and brother.

Thanks for listening (reading? I’ll figure this out)! Talk to you in the next one and remember to always stay grateful.