Not My Own

Today I am wearing that sweatshirt. You know, the snowboarding one you bought me when I was in high school. I remember pulling it off the rack and longing for the image of what the sweatshirt promised, "Authentic Roxy Snowboard Riding". I was super into snowboarding and the image that came along with it. I didn't think I would ever own the shirt, I was just looking and maybe drooling. When you asked me if I wanted it I thought it was so you could take a mental note and get it for me for Christmas. So I told you, "Um yeah that would be awesome." "I'll buy it for you." You said. I tried to tell you that you didn't have to because I knew we were in an overpriced sporting good's store and I could find one much cheaper some place else. But you insisted! So I thanked you and was excited to have it. Whenever I wore that sweat shirt I loved it's warmth and the image that came with it. It told the world I was a snowboarder and that made

While I sit and watch the news, my heart breaks for those on the East Coast who have lost their homes or their lives from this devastating storm.  I am in awe of those nurse heroes clutching on to newborn babies, while carrying them down flights of stairs in hospitals to get them to safety. I understand not everyone was able to evacuate for certain reasons. What I don't understand are those who decided to stay in their homes and "ride out" the storm. I don't understand why they didn't listen to officials who highly advised and warned people of the severe dangers approaching. Now some of these people are dead. Before the storm hit, I listened to a testimony of a man who said, "I'm a New Yorker! No storm is gonna take me down! Besides it's never as bad as they say."This man's pride and arrogance may have cost him his life or home by now. I don't know whatever happened to him. But his attitude infuriates me! The warnings were so obvious th

Pedaling as fast as I could uphill I realized, my son was no where in sight! Where was he? Someone else had him and I had no idea who. I had to find him. Thunder clasped and lighting struck right in front of me. Pedaling faster and harder wondering..."Where is my son?!!!!" Next thing I knew my bike was gone and I found myself in a room with other people surrounded by terrorists with guns. Out of all the people the main terrorist leader told Desmond and I that we would be the first dead if we disobeyed or the first set free if we did what they said. My brain frantically  thought of ways to save my son. The walls of the room were gone and I was swimming with Desmond on my back. Waves kept crashing over us. I picked him up and raised him as high above the water as I could so he could try to breathe.  I was helpless as my son kept gasping for air.  "Honey, wake up. Sam! Wake up. I need your help, Desmond has a fever." - Says, my husband. He has never bee

I have been playing ball ever since I was old enough to throw a ball. I played competitively on school teams, travel teams, and even in college. I LOVED everything about softball. More than the game, I loved being part of a team. I loved playing and learning with girls who were not always my best friends but we still had to learn to play together. I have learned endless life lessons from the game itself and being part of team. As much as I loved softball I also loved youth group and going to church. It was a never a doubt in my mind that I loved God way more than softball. I wish I could say the same for what people thought about me. I remember a few conversations in high school with some people at church. Sometimes I missed church or youth events because I had a tournament or even practices on Sundays.  I remember practicing Sundays once and while and rushing to church to try and catch the last hour of youth group. I would come in with my softball outfit on. I always felt loved an

I handed my baby boy over to his day care teacher and I ran out the door to get as much done as possible in the next five hours baby free! My mind was racing with a to do list. Gotta prioritize! What should I get done first? On the way out the door for some random reason this hill caught my attention in the parking lot. There was nothing fancy about it but I noticed a trail going up it and I wondered where this trail went. I continued walking to my car like those old lady mall workers on a mission. No time for hiking today, I gotta stick to my schedule. "Go up the hill." - Said some voice in my head. "Can't! I need to utilize every minute possible! I will do it later." - Said my own voice in my head. I couldn't stop myself from staring at the hill with one hand on the handle of my car door. "Go up the hill. I want to tell you something." - Said THAT voice in my head. Maybe if I go up this hill God will give me some answers to all the u

Wife: Why didn't you tell me? Husband: Because I didn't want to argue and make you mad. Wife: But I am finally feeling better about it.  Husband: You are? How could you be feeling better when now we are fighting? Wife: Because I rather be together arguing than not communicating at all. This is a discussion Andrew and I had once during an argument. It was a profound moment for Andrew when he realized arguing wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Although it's rough in the moment, often times arguing is part of the healing process while I learn more about myself and my husband. I learned from this discussion that often times we treat God the exact same way. We stick our heads in the sand and pretend everything is OK with God who already knows everything! Why do we think we can hide from God? Why do we choose to avoid and not talk to God? God knows us better than anyone! Even when we go to God in anger and or frustration I believe God is thrilled that we are final

Most teenagers I talk with describe their life to me as if they live in a pressure cooker feeling pressure from all angles in their life to succeed. They tell me they are in activities they don't even care for because their parents tell them it will look good on their college application letter. Students burn themselves out before they even get to college. Why? So that they can succeed! These kids are so overwhelmed by all these activities they often forget to just stop and enjoy life. Often I ask, "Where do you feel the most pressure from?" The answer is always the same... Parents. Isn't that what parents are suppose to do? They are suppose to give every opportunity they can to help their kid succeed! Isn't that the most important thing in life? Some parents say, "No, I just want my kid to be happy." Or "No, I just want my kid to feel loved." I wonder how many teens are truly happy or truly feel deeply loved. When I ask students, "

Tuesday night, I had the privilege of participating in The Bridge Ministry (http://www.bridgeministry.org/about/jefferson-street-bridge/) .  This ministry is the best picture of Church I have seen! It's so beautiful! There are a variety of ages, races, classes, all coming together to worship God under a bridge where many homeless residents in Nashville reside. Trucks show up and unload food, clothes, and a variety of different donations for those in need. People show up to volunteer to help distribute these items and to help lead a worship service. This is a church but it doesn't meet on Sundays, doesn't collect an offering during the service, doesn't take attendance, doesn't have an assigned pastor, and doesn't have bulletins or slide shows. This is a church who actually spends time, effort, and money doing the things Jesus called us to do. Instead of just listening to a sermon and going home, after church volunteers help pass out food and/or clothes to

Today I met with a wonderful group of youth ministers called Youth Pastor's Anonymous http://youthpastorsanonymous.org/  (Check us out). A small group of us met and we tried to answer the question "How is your soul?". I was not surprised at how many of the minister's answered stressed, exhausted, worried, and drained. Most of the worries and the stress revolved around similar issues... money, church drama, bad leadership, too much programming, business, and personal life issues.  I feel this way most of my days as a minister. I walked away from the meeting reflecting on how insanely hard ministry is. Then I read in the Bible... from Matthew 11:28-30  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  What the heck was Jesus talking about?!!! Seems to me Jesus' yok

This June I just got back from one of the best mission trip experiences ever! Actually, this mission trip was the best experience I have had in my four years of being a youth minister. It was just AWESOME! The reason this trip entailed such awesomeness is because I did the best job ever preparing and planning students well in advanced so they could experience the trip's glory to the fullest! It's all about preparing the way! (If you have not read into my sarcasm by now this is the part where I clue you in... I am being sarcastic.)  It all started early fall when we started having conversations with parents about giving students an international mission opportunity. I wanted this for students too, but this sounded expensive, difficult, and like it would involve a ton of planning. The stress of passports and hauling teen's through airports sounded like too much work to me. However, I wanted to make students and parents happy. I also knew this particular group was ready

A few weeks ago I went to the Pfunky Griddle in Nashville. It was a completely bizarre experience! When you walk in the small house like restaurant you are seated at a table with a griddle in the middle of the table and you see people cooking and flipping their own pancakes, potatoes, etc. At first I was super pumped! What a creative and fun hands-on dining experience!But the more I thought about it I started feeling like a fool. Basically, I am paying for people to bring me food to cook myself? I can do this at home! My mind kept going back and forth thinking this place was either genius or the dumbest idea ever. Not sure, but either way it was an interesting experience. I think I would go back even though my mind is still conflicted about how I feel about the concept. Then I started thinking how much the Pfunky Griddle is how I do youth ministry. I feel like most churches have a set meal plan and a certain way to prepare the gospel in order to know "how many people are s

I don't need to hear it's not my fault and I don't need anyone to explain to me why I should or shouldn't feel this way. I am a writer. I just need to write. I welcome those who care to read/listen and learn from whatever God is doing in my life. I am not my own, so everything He puts on my heart to write is for His glory. I pray He uses my life as an open book to help others grow closer to Him. When I tried calling Andrew I bumped some numbers that somehow had my dad's phone number on speed dial. When I saw his name pop up in my phone my heart sank. This is for real... not a dream. He really is gone and I should probably delete his number in my phone so that I can live in the reality that he is gone. There is no reason to keep his phone number any more. Yet, I cannot seem to make myself delete it. Maybe if I call the number I will hear his voicemail and I can just hear his voice! No, that's so stupid. Wake up Sam. He is gone. I hit send anyway and listened

A few days ago when I was getting a drink of water in the youth kitchen I heard something rustling around behind the cupboards. It scared the junk out of me for a second because I knew I was the only one in the youth area at the time. Then I remembered it was just my friend Stewart, the mouse. I saw his tiny gray body dash across the counter top and instead of shreaking in terror and complaining to the trustees I just smiled and calmly said, "Hello Stewart." I could stress out about the mouse and worry what others would think if they saw him, or I could make a new friend and maybe even create a new youth game called "Catch the Mouse and get a prize!". This new attitude started making me wonder why I stress so much about little things in life. I have been at our church for four years now and mice in the youth area have always been a problem. I try to remind everyone not to leave food out and to clean up etc. We have left mouse traps and had pest control come. Ho

This is a sermon written by one of my AMAZING students! I am blown away by his words and can hear God speaking clearly through this. I hope you can to!!!! Congregation, what should a church be like? I think it shouldn’t be a place to be at by 8:30 and squeak through, but a harbor for the lost and a spring of renewal for the redeemed. Let’s be honest though…is it really like that anymore? Do people come here to be rejuvenated in fellowship so that they may better spread the love of Christ? Or is it merely a place to come get your slate wiped clean so you can go about your life as normal? I see it every day, people who I KNOW are Christians, I know they love Jesus, but they’re sinning right along with rest of them. I’m not excluding myself, how else would I see it if I wasn’t right there with them? But today, on this great day celebrating our savior’s resurrection, I want to set things straight. Welcome to Sinners Anonymous! Now I know we can’t break this addictio

Want to hear a joke? How do you prolong adolescence and have a job?... Become a youth pastor! This is not my favorite joke but I see how it applies. Being a youth pastor is a difficult role because most people see youth pastors as slightly older youth (although legally an adult) who temporarily oversee the youth until we find our "real job". In all honesty, many youth ministers I know are pretty immature, goofy, and are certainly not the most organized or responsible. We are a bit of a mess. This is what inspires me most! God constantly used people in the Bible who were broken! God used not only the imperfect people, but those who were insanely unqualified, not talented, had little faith, and mostly were a complete wreck! He used people who didn't even believe in themselves like Moses. He used Peter and Paul to start the entire foundation of the Christian Church and these guys were a wreck before and after meeting Christ.   The list goes on... but all this to say God LOVE

Time is just the craziest thing. That's just what it is... a thing! It's not really a concept or an idea. It's not really a personality or character. It's real. It's moving. It's always moving. It cannot be stopped. I believe time to be one of the most valuable things we are gifted with on earth. Today, I turned twenty-six years old and I can't help but ask what have I done with the past twenty-six years of my life? I hope and pray it was time used to bring glory to God because if God is not in the picture than what's the point? As the author in Ecclesiastes states, "Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return"  If what we do on earth does not have a lasting effect to bring glory to God's Kingdom than it is absolutely meaningless. Sounds a bit harsh, but not when you have just experienced a birth and a death within the same season. I have been thinking about birth and death in abundance

 Your story started out as a testing of your faith. James 1:2-4 says..." Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." I believe this is the reason for my story too. A test of faith.  What does that mean? How do you know when you pass? What does it mean to really keep the faith? Did you consider it pure joy when your whole life went to hell?!  Did it feel like God was helping your faith mature when your own wife and friends told you to curse God and die? Job, how did it feel when one crappy thing in your life kept happening after another? Did you have times of hope during those times and then BAM another horrible thing would happen?" Did you believe you would be blessed in the end? What kept you strong? Dear Job... what was it like?! Were you surprised when a

"One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to gooooooo!" My dad used to yell as he blasted me off his shoulders and into the water. He loved Lake George, a special place for the Ehlerts where our family cabin is. I never imagined at twenty five years old I would be dumping my dad's ashes into this same lake where so many good memories have taken place. Some of my earliest memories of my dad are being excited for him to come home from the army. I remember waiting outside on the steps of my grandparent's house and hugging him in his army uniform. One of my few memories before the divorce was my dad again in uniform sitting on the kitchen across from my mom and the both of them were arguing. My brother and I crawled back and forth on the floor switching between their laps. Since then I saw my dad every other weekend and every other Wednesday evening most of my childhood. In all honesty, we didn't have a close relationship. I had to over co