What is joy?
This, for me, is JOY:
Well, having revisited this blog recently (and having re-discovered some old gems that I had forgotten), I thought that it might be time to review, revisit and reflect, and indeed, to resume posting.
Today is Bruce and my first anniversary, and what an incredible year its been. Its been a year of incredible love, adventure, learning, growth, pain, joy, and amazing surprises.
I have a dirty little secret that for too long I have kept hidden. Its one that I have been afraid to discuss, because its something that no-one talks about. Something that makes me feel like a failure as a person, and one that for a long time, I felt was better off not seeing the light of day.
gosh its been a long time since we've had some of that, wot?
Oh the Christmas Pageant at the Community Hall was going so well - in rehearsals anyway.
We went shopping today to an Ikea on the south side of Brisbane that dwarfed most airports. After a half hour in the carpark, looking for (and finding) a park near the entrance (but nowhere near the exit, curiously) and a VERY large plate of Swedish meatballs and flugenshnugen, we set off on what was to be a three-hour tour.
My jeans are soaked through, there is tinsel in my hair, glitter on my arms, I have been deafened by a series of team chants and I've heard one too many children say "I can't find my pants".
One facet of my job is spending time in a classroom setting with children that have emotional, spiritual or social issues; getting to know them, spending time with them, developing a trust relationship with them.
This is how school chaplaincy has been described here in Australia: as a covert force operating behind enemy lines. Where ministers try to bring people into churches - safe territory for the Godly - the chaplain's mission is to go out into the community where there is no safety. Chaplains are charged with learning the language of the schools we are in so we can speak of God in a way that will be heard; we are under fire from those that do not believe that religion has a place in schools; we are wary of children and parents that might make false and damaging accusations against us; and we are sometimes the only person of faith charged with speaking the Gospel in a school community of thousands.
And yet we are part of something incredible here in Australia. The Australian Federal Government has poured 165 million dollars over three years into school chaplaincy. That means that in Queensland alone, 140 of us hit the ground running in early October, and the next round of hiring begins in a few weeks. Over 500 schools now have access to a Christian of faith as part of their regular, daily life. Thousands upon thousands of children, school staff and families now have the Gospel planted in their communities, and that number will explode over the next year. The Lord is just pouring out His Spirit on this country, I believe; putting His Word where it matters so much: our schools. He is reaching out to the children, their families and those that care for and educate them.
What an incredible, awesome God we have.
And as for me? Well, as many of you know, being turned down by the Diocese of Brisbane was the most hugely liberating moment of my spiritual "career". Indeed, I am in awe of the fact that within six months, I have come from a country that has never heard of "school chaplaincy" and been transported across the planet to become a minister in a school. And yet, doesn't Acts 17 tell us to expect that?
"26From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. 27God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. 28'For in him we live and move and have our being.'
I had always expected to be classified as a "minister of religion"; but I suppose that I always understood that to require the collar. Here, legally, in the eyes of the government (and more importantly, the taxation office!), chaplains are classified as ministers of religion; and I am thrilled to realize that I need no collar, no denomination (Scripture Union is an ecumenical Christian organization), no affiliation to any particular church.... to be a minister here in Australia, all I need is a bible, my scruffy old jeans, some hand sanitizer, sunscreen, and a heart for God's work in the lives of families and the community.
As a primary school chaplain (Prep 1 (kindergarten) to Grade 7), I am hoarse by the end of morning tea, my bible has glitter paint all over it, my chair is sticky, there are animal cracker crumbs stuffed into my filing cabinet, I write bible study notes in crayon, my office (and I am one of the few chaplains blessed enough to have one) is furnished with bean-bag chairs, stuffed animals and posters of the word "LOVE". My typical day can involved anything from helping a young child understand why his mother walked out on the family while he was at school one day, to a day-trip to Sea World. In striving to be open to the Holy Spirit, I am learning to shape the message of God into something that children, the unchurched, the God-fearing and the religion-fearing can all hear and accept.
I am part of an incredible ministry team, from the "Local Chaplaincy Committee" that works to raise funding for the chaplaincy in the community; to Scripture Union that administers the hiring and training of chaplains; to the local churches that have come together to ensure that God is entrenched in the local school; to the parents, friends and families that pray for God's work to be done here in the local community.
And the incredible gift of being able to live and minister in your own community has proven to be both thrilling and disturbing. I cannot go to the fish and chip shop, the chemist or the local supermarket without a dozen children (many of whom have names I am struggling to remember) coming up for a hug, a chat or to tell me about something that happened to them that day. I run into parents wherever I go, many of whom I see later in my office for a quiet talk. I can no longer go out without makeup, or in my track pants, or cross the road against the lights, or use colourful gestures to the driver that cut me off in the parking lot. And last Friday, we took my husband to the local pub to celebrate his birthday, and I found myself facing a real moral dilemma as I queued up at the bar to buy him a birthday cocktail, and spent the time chatting with the half-dozen kids and their families that came up to say hi.
And today, my biggest challenge is to decide which Scripture Union camp to volunteer for over the Christmas break: do I want to go the beach? Rollerblading? Enjoy a day trip to DreamWorld? Learn to surf? Naturally, on all these camps, my job is to be there to care for the kids as they enjoy a summer holiday; to talk to them about life and God, to listen to them, love them, play with them, coach them, and model the fact that Jesus loves each and every one of them deeply and completely.
It may be my job, but it’s certainly not work!
Operation Christmas Child is an extraordinary endeavour that it is my great privilege to be a part of here in Australia. It is a simple act of kindness and giving of the sort that truly shakes the foundations of the world. And there is an amazing poignancy in watching the magic unfold.
"We of the Never Never" is famous Australian novel from the turn of the last century, detailing the adventures of an Englishwoman, "Mrs. Anaeas Gunn", as she moved to rural Australia to live in the outback with her rural Australian husband, erm... "Mr. Anaeas Gunn". It is also a wonderful movie, directed by Igor Auzins; and was for a very long time a favourite of mine, mainly because it featured a very young John Jarratt and Lewis Fitz-Gerald stuffed into tight trousers, spitting in a manly fashion and wrestling horses.
Its been a bit of a down day; "being there" for children in need - children whose parents are splitting up, children whose grandparents are dying, children who are being beaten at home or who are being bullied in class - can be wearying on the soul.