If you put your arms around me, could it change the way I feel?

I guess I let myself believe that the outside might just bleed it's way in.

Maybe stir the sleeping past lying under glass,

Waiting for the kiss that breaks this awful spell.

Pull me out of this lonely cell.

Close my eyes and hold my heart.

Cover me and make me something.

Change this something normal into something beautiful.

What I get from my reflection isn't what I thought I'd see.

Give me reason to believe you'd never keep me incomplete.

Will you untie this loss of mine? It easily defines me.

Do you see it on my face, That all I can think about is how long

I've been waiting to feel you move me?

Close my eyes and hold my heart.

Cover me and make me something.

Change this something normal into something beautiful.

And I'm still fighting for the world to break these chains.

And I still pray when I look in your eyes,

You stare right back down into something beautiful.

Close my eyes and hold my heart.

Cover me and make me something.

Change this something normal into something beautiful.

(Something Beautiful - Jars of Clay)

Today is my last Wednesday as a youth pastor. I'm excited because I'm getting closer to a new path in life, but also because we're having a cookout with the students tonight, meaning I get to eat a bunch of hot dogs and go toe-to-toe in an over-sized inflatable boxing ring. I'm looking forward to just hanging out with some kids I've gotten close to over the past year and eight months.

If I were to go through trying to name all the students I've had contact with and tell what I've seen in their lives, I wouldn't have time to write it all, no one would want to read it all, and I would probably leave too much out. There is a handful, though, in whose lives I've seen God's hand obviously at work, and I'm humbled to know that I have had at least a small part in it all.

There is one student I think about often. A little more than a year ago, I asked this student to consider taking part in a mission experience, confident God was leading particularly in this way. The problem was, the money wasn't there. I encouraged this student and prayed very specifically that God would provide the way, which He did. While I could point out plenty of negative about this student, that trip seemed to be a turning point and a hunger for God seems to be slowly taking over in her life.

There's another one I've become close to who amazes me with his faith. He prays often, and genuinely trusts God in every situation, even the situations that seem most trivial to us adults who are "too mature" to pray for the little things. It's almost as if this student's life is unimaginably simple. Even though I know for a fact that this student is facing challenges I hope I don't ever have to deal with, he seems so content and peaceful. For some reason, the majority of people I know, myself included, think that life is supposed to be far more complicated than this student lets on. I don't think it's because he is young, either. I think he has just caught on to the concept of faith better than the rest of us.

I could go on and on about students who have come out of their shells; students I've become friends with. One day recently, I was talking to a student who referred to himself as my best friend, saying it in such a way that I don't think even he realized his choice of words. How he meant it is beside the point. The fact is he identified himself in a friendship with me, for which I am grateful. It's amazing that a 13 or 14 year old would actually care whether or not I have any interest in his life.

When I started writing this post a few minutes ago, this is not the place I intended to end. My thoughts were originally headed in a completely different direction, but I'm thankful for the memories I've received over a relatively short period of time. While this place has been a brief stretch of road on the long journey that is the path to God's best for my life, I'm reminded by memories like these of the words in 1 Corinthians 15:58: Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort. (The Message).

This morning, I announced to the congregation my resignation from student ministry. I have to admit that for some time I have been a bit preoccupied with dreams of different sorts relating to my near and distant future. I have been somewhat surprised with the feelings of freedom and relief I have experienced as I have progressed through each level of announcing my desires and plans. When I first shared my decisions with Pastor Raymond a couple months ago, I felt hope and excitement, but even more liberated a couple weeks later when we passed the information to the rest of the staff. A couple more weeks went by before it was time to inform the youth ministry leaders, and still more time before announcing to the students first, and finally, the rest of the church. As nervous as I became with each appointment, I have noticed a steady increase in freedom and confidence within myself. Feelings change from day to day, but, even with all the still unanswered questions, I am generally tamed by a peaceful relaxation in knowing I am moving in God's direction. At the same time, I believe this is the biggest challenge I have ever faced in my life.

While I know I am relatively young, I am no stranger to pain. Most recently, both of my living grandparents, with each of whom I was relatively close, passed away within 15 days of one another. I was in my grandfather's room talking to him while he was completely unresponsive just a couple hours before he died - little more than 2 weeks after having stood in the emergency room literally watching my grandmother leave this life. When I was 12 years old, I went to school one morning, greeted by the news that one of my closest friends, Jason Alligood, had taken his own life the night before. I've moved hours away from family and friends of my teenage years, struggled through personal ups and downs within my own family, and even been betrayed thoughtlessly by those I thought were closest to me. I know many others have dealt with these issues and more, and I don't mean to belittle your pain. Maybe time really does alleviate our hurts, or at least the pressure that comes in dealing with them. I guess what I mean to say is that this challenge is of a caliber I have never encountered before.

The one element that makes this decision so difficult for me, is that, to a great extent, it is completely within my control. I have no control over death, or even choices others make. I can't make the sun come through the rain - the emotional winter turn to summer - anymore than anyone else. In this case, though, I have a choice. It is my decision (our decision) to leave another career with promising pay, sell a comfortable house, and do all the other things necessary to go back to school at the age most guys are starting to settle down and spend some money. I feel the "stupid" stares from those who don't understand, and I know I have the power to eliminate them by making a different choice. On the other hand, I can't make that different choice.

I have a problem - I gave my life to God. Romans says the calling of God is irrevocable, so I guess I'm kind of stuck. For me to deny myself of moving in this direction seems impossible to me. I don't really know what it would take to do it even if I wanted to - just like I don't know how I could ever stop loving my wife or start ignoring my son. I'm hesitant to compare myself to anyone great, but I wonder if this is something of what Paul felt when he called himself a "prisoner of Christ." This is a mystery that I dare not claim to be able to tackle yet, but I like it. It's funny how we can come to be so in love with something that takes our very lives from us. Maybe it's because it doesn't really take our lives, but rather, gives them back. We all want to live, but we can't really live unless we know our lives are valuable enough that our deaths would matter. At the beginning of season six of the show 24, Jack Bauer says the thing that kept him alive during two years of torture at the hand of the Chinese consulate is that he didn't want to die for nothing. Neither do I. As has been said before, unless something is worth dying for, it's not worth living for. The good news is, we have a reason to live and die, because He considered us worth dying for first. He lived to die, so we could die to live.

"Oh, the wonderful cross, bids me come and die, and find that I may truly live."

Each of us has a calling that is unique to us. If you haven't already, I hope you will join me in dying to live.