I love the St. Louis Cardinals, stupid jokes, and students.

The whole set of these spectacular things came together for me this year at Summer in the Son (I'm not nearly as sorry as I should be for all of these "s" alliterations). This was my first year leading a group to SITS, and it was also my first year ever actually completing the full week of the conference... To say that I was stressed would be simply satirical (I'm sorry).

We ended up with 11 students in our rag tag group of people that barely knew each other. After scrambling paperwork for an hour before we left, losing our transportation, cancelling a youth event, coming up short on money, and trying to keep track of kids that were determined to break me in, I was beginning to wonder if a career in photography would be a better life decision. By midnight on Sunday I was ready to buy the camera.

But SITS lasts til Friday.

Throughout the week the kids started to warm up to me, and I started to remember my old ridiculous self. One of our students made the comment that her eggs tasted funny, and I quipped that it was because they came from a cow instead of chicken. Alice demanded proof. One day and two trips to the store later, I produced what we affectionately referred to as "the cow egg." The poor women at church couldn't imagine why I was tormenting a poor watermelon with spray paint and acrylic...

Alice gave her life to Jesus during SITS.

On Thursday afternoon a few of the boys invited me into their room because they had a "surprise" for me. When you enter a room full of teenage boys with the lights off and complete silence, it's hard to tell what kind of bodily harm you're in for. Much to my surprise I found that they had all sorts of gifts for me on their beds. In the spirit of boys, they pooled their money together and bought me a new watch, a picture of my favorite character from Up, a stack of my favorite Peanut M&M's, a whole dollar, and a brand new KCU hat.

Perspective: I've worn my St. Louis Cardinals hat nearly every day since May. It's no small feat to make me give it up. The fellas wanted to do something nice for me and save my head from the diseased rag I usually worn on it. I didn't hesitate to change caps.

I don't give a flip about a career in photography. And I wouldn't give a flip about it even if the crazy kids I spent the week with kept to themselves and didn't do anything spectacular for me. But I'm realizing that the beauty of ministry isn't in the loud noises and flashing lights that make people's hearts race. The beauty of ministry is in the quiet consistency that reaches into their hearts and says, "I love you. You're so worth my time."

I'm still learning about this crazy life of love He's called me to. But whenever I start to think that it's time to throw in the towel, it's my hope that I always remember cow eggs and sweaty ball caps.

"So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth."

1 Corinthians 3:7 ESV