Saturday, August 18, 2012

Teaching Youth...


So, about a week and a half ago I had the opportunity to teach our Wednesday night Youth group. Pastor Nathan, Ms. Dawn, and about half of the group were in Louisville, Kentucky for National Fine Arts Festival, so I figured it would be a piece of cake. Boy was I wrong… Now, it wasn’t horrible at all, it just wasn’t what I was used to. You see all of the youth that were left were mostly the sixth graders who just moved up, a few new youth, and two of our normal group. I went into it with the thought, oh it’s really just the middle school youth, I should be fine… Not so much. I overlooked the fact that my key people who know my tolerance levels weren’t there. So, I found myself getting a bit aggravated before they figured out that I meant business. I loved it, despite my small amount of aggravation, and would totally do it again!

I chose to speak on something that has really been on my heart lately, since camp really, and something I have been trying to work on, but am failing at a bit…

Below, is a summary (with possibly a little bit added by me) of what I talked about:

God is a jealous God. He’s not jealous in the sense that he is envious of us or wants what we have; He is jealous of US! He wants our time. He wants us to spend time with Him, worshiping Him, reading His word, talking to Him, and just being with Him. All of this really stemmed from Tuesday night at camp this past summer. (To read about how camp went, see my previous post) While I was in prayer both during Pre-Service Prayer and during altar time I found myself just sitting on the floor surrounded by God’s presence. It was kind of like I was in my own little bubble with God, the music and distractions faded, and there was perfect silence in my head. I was just spending time with my Daddy. It was in that time that He told me I was being a Martha. You remember her story from the Bible right? Jesus was over at her house and she was running around trying to make everything perfect and not spending time with Him. Jesus didn’t care if everything was perfect; He just wanted to spend time with her. Well, that’s been me lately… He wants me; He wants us to be Mary’s. You remember Martha’s sister Mary right? She sat at Jesus’ feet and just listened to him while Martha did all this stuff. Well, Jesus wants us to just sit at His feet and spend time with Him.

Sometimes it may seem that it is hard to make time for God. We may even think that it is hard to make time for God, but that is the devil talking! Don’t listen to him! It is essential that we make time for God! All you have to do is find a place, any place really and make it your “prayer closet”. It can be your room, your actual closet (if you have room for that, because I sure don’t, hehe!), or literally anywhere that you can have complete privacy with God. Me personally, I have several prayer closets. My room is a popular one, but sometimes I can get distracted with everything that’s in there. My next most popular prayer closet is my car. Since I have a thirty-minute plus drive to and from school, it is the perfect time to talk to God. To tell you the truth, God and I have had some pretty deep conversations going to or coming home from school. There have been days that I have had to get myself together before heading to class or work.

Spending time with God can be as simple as reading your Bible and saying a prayer. If you don’t know what to pray for, start going though a list of people you know, pray for the church, the youth group, or pray in tounges. You can turn on a worship CD and just worship him. If you are having a rough day, tell Him. The Bible says to cast all your cares upon the Lord. Tell Him what is on your heart. Whatever you do, make sure you spend some quiet time with Him after you have prayed or worshiped because that is the time that God will speak to you. It’s in the quiet that He speaks and you must listen very carefully to hear Him.

One of my favorite songs, The More I Seek You, by Kari Jobe gives a perfect example of how we should be with God.


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