On One-Anothering

"you better be at church tomo or imma be mad with you :D" his message on Facebook said.

It was Saturday night. I was still trying to get my brain out of my jet-lag funk and trying to put together my lesson for Kids' Club as well. I was tired and cold, and worrying that there would be too many rascaly kids the next day for my first Sunday back at Kids' Club.

And then came his text.

Hayden is one of the rascaly guys who started coming to youth about a year ago when Robert was still around. He and the other boys in youth group are like the pesky little brothers who love to hassle me only to turn around and be all nice and sweet when I have food.

His Facebook message that night was the reminder I needed of why I came back to Auckland. Yes, I was burning out real fast before I left, and I was appalled by the person I was becoming as a result.

But Hayden's message reminded me of what it means to be the family. It reminded me of the numerous times over the last ten months of how WCF so quickly became family. I could say that I clung to them as family as they were the only people I knew in a new land, but they chose to care for me as well.

A couple years ago in Germany, I stumbled across the term, "one-anothering."

Love one-another.
Serve one-another.
Take care of one-another.


The term assumes mutuality.
We have to love and be loved.
We have to serve and be served.
We have to take care of and be taken care of.

One of the difficulties for my personality in ministry is that I always expect that because...
... I'm a Christian and they're not
... I'm "in ministry" and they're not
... I'm privileged spiritually/financially/emotionally/etc. because of Christ


... meant I always had to be at the giving end.

And for that reason, while I celebrate how the WCF has one-anothered me, I recall the conversation with the BFF that included the reprimand (the BFF is much more mild-mannered than I am, so a reprimand from her becomes more like a "wake up your idea" than just a simple nudge) of why I still allow the ones who have worn me down continually over the years to continue to do so.

Of why I don't stand up for myself and walk away when conversations are driven by one-sided agendas.
Of why I don't say, stop trying to care for me on your terms when you don't listen long enough to know what I'm really needing.
Of why I avoid draining personalities for a long time only to succumb again eventually, instead of confronting in love.

And so I'm learning to speak up and take care of myself.
Sometimes they come out in little outbursts of emotion.
On my better days, they come as peaceful confrontation.

But I'm learning.
After all, as my ray of Sunshine, Jenny often reminds me,

"There's only one you. If you don't take care of you, you won't have anything left to give anyone else."


After all, in the words of Jim Hawkins, "Pace yourself for the marathon so you don't sprint too fast and burnout before you're done."