to send

This afternoon, I am leading the last of our after-school bible studies of the school year. It is the last for this group of 8th graders. They'll move on quickly to high school girls and guys groups where they will talk about grown up things.

The girls won't be around to shoot raised eyebrows at the squirmy seventh grade boys who always cower in submission.

The boys won't be around to use their expansive energy on writing a Jesus rap or hassle me to have more than their singularly allowed soda.

They won't be around to hush the group by example into prayer time, to share their thoughts, and push their classmates to see faith differently.

I suppose they will be around to do these things, just not around me. I send them out into new places. That is my job: a ministry postwoman.

I send them in great hopes of what God has done, is doing, and will do in their lives. I send them in confidence knowing that Christ will reveal himself in their darkest times. I send them knowing that my years in high school were some of my most difficult. I send them knowing that I've prepared them for faith wind and rain storms. I send them knowing that my God is merciful.