THERE IS NO... ARIZONA...

Oh wait actually there is. That's a country song if you missed the reference. On that note if anyone in my life feels like they're missing the reference it is pretty much always a country song that you don't know. Just assume, go ahead. Oh and this will be long so, um, thanks for reading?

Ok, so I went to Arizona for a week with my BigKids the week before Easter. It was fantastic, for me, and it was pretty darn good as a youth group missions trip as well. It was awesome to be able to focus on ONE thing, instead of three or four as I usually do, for a week. I mean, we did a lot, and I was going going going and making sure the girls were doing okay, but they were all I had to focus on and it was a nice break. And it combined the two things I love most - missions and the Church.

I'm not sure how to describe this trip. We were a large group of people for the amount of Apaches around the ministry we worked with, and even larger once word got out that all the white people were there and all the Apaches disappeared. Sad day. We did get to build relationships with quite a few of them, though. What poverty they live in on the reservation - 65% unemployment, 70% living below the poverty level, alcohol, drugs, crap family lives, no transportation off the reservation, you name it- it's bad. I truly enjoyed getting to know the few Apaches that I did in that short amount of time. We were able to work with a family of new believers in restoring their walls (filling holes, painting over nasty graffitti inside) and in prayer marathons, all so they could get their kids back and be growing in the faith. This couple literally showed up at the door of the missionaries' place and said, "we want to come to Jesus. we've tried and tried to change on our own (from cocaine, alcohol, etc.) and we can't do it. We need Jesus. Will you pray with us?" Wow. It was pretty rad to participate in the work the Lord is working in their lives. And updates continue to let us know how well they're doing. Praise Jesus for changing lives!

Because there were a lot of us, and 25 high school students on about three acres + free time = trouble, we did a lot of construction/cleanup/painting/literal trailblazing. We worked HARD. Exhaused at the end of the day. I was super-proud of the students. For me, it felt so good to work that hard, and see results. I love love loved being able to serve the missionaries there so that we could enable them to be doing the work they were there to do.

I braided many, many heads of hair into french braids. I had good one-to-one conversations with several of the young women who were struggling with something, and good times of prayer with them as well. I was excited to see how the students were able to get over themselves enough to let God work through them in all the different things we were doing. Church was an experience. An elderly Apache woman who was short with a flat, wrinkled face and long, thick black-grey hair led worship, song-to-song without a break for about half an hour. It sounded like a cross between the early "worship music" and something you'd hear an Apache singing at a powow. It was awesome. Sometime in the middle of some service, I almost laughed out loud. I love following Christ. How else would I end up in the middle the desert at a pennecostal service led by Apaches?

We climbed the hill behind the church and watched the sunrise over the mesa-moutains every morning, because the first morning, it was red. The whole sky. And then orange, and then pink. And we went back to bed (had gotten up to use the bathroom which was outside). Idiots. So every day after that we got up to wait for it to be the same color again. And it never was, but it was beautiful every morning. And it was refreshing to get up that early, praise God, think of the possiblity of the day to come, and sit on a log in the middle of an Apache reservation in Arizona and watch the sun rise.