fishers of teens

Katy finally got an invite for a Friday night. She had spent most weekends that school year in her dad’s overstuffed Lay-Z-Boy recliner mindlessly watching show after show, mowing through snack after snack.

But one Monday morning, Amber sat by her in study hall. It was weird for someone like Amber to even be in study hall—usually the AP kids packed their schedules full with advanced classes and study hall was seen as a waste of time. And Amber was one of those all-around star students: an Honor Roll athlete who, when she wasn’t serving straight aces at the varsity volleyball games, was flipping across the gymnasium during the pep rallies. She was the president of Fellowship of Christian Athletes and was always the first to volunteer to pray aloud for the group at any opportunity. Katy felt equally perplexed and in awe of her.
But here she was first thing on a Monday morning in study hall, sitting by Katy, drinking a SlimFast, and reading a thick, worn Bible. Its pages were well worn and covered in colorful, bubbly writing in the margins. Katy wondered if the highlighted sections bled through the other sides of the pages. She must have been staring because Amber looked up and smiled. 

“Gotta get my morning dose of Jesus!” Amber took another sip of SlimFast. Katy didn’t know what to say so she just nodded and turned back to her desk, pretending to consider the page before her with deep thoughts. 

But Amber kept talking. Talking to her. She wasn’t sure why. What did they even have in common? Katy spent her school days doing the bare minimum to pass her classes and her nights at home holed up in her room or curled up in the Lay-Z-Boy. She wouldn’t describe herself as a social butterfly, or an athlete, or an all-star student. If someone asked her to pray out loud, she would probably puke at the mere suggestion.
Later at lunchtime, Amber appeared. As she picked at her salad and Katy chewed her peanut butter sandwich, Amber carried on a conversation punctuated by Katy’s occasional nods and mhmmms. Here’s what Katy learned:

Amber started getting her nails done weekly, but could only do “natural” shades to stay on the cheer squad. It was an injustice the whole squad was protesting. 
Amber’s mom was on her about taking the SAT but Amber has volleyball practices and tournaments every weekend! How was she supposed to schedule it when she literally had no time?! 
Amber fiiiiiiiiinally has an extended curfew. She can stay out until midnight now! As long as she kept her A's.  

Amber seemed to appear by Katy’s side at any free moment throughout the week. By the time Friday morning came, Katy had finally gotten used to it. That morning, Amber was extra excited, extra talkative. Friday meant football which meant Fifth Quarter after the game. Local churches got together to provide an alternative source of entertainment, Fifth Quarter, for the teenagers that didn’t involve underaged drinking or fornication. Amber had apparently worked closely with her youth pastor to plan tonight’s event. She said it would be the best Fifth Quarter yet. Would Katy please, please come??

Katy pretended to consider her busy social calendar, praying she didn’t come across as too eager. They made a plan to meet outside the church after the football game. Katy couldn’t bring herself to sit alone in the stands at the football game, so she waited at home. She couldn’t focus on her shows and was too nervous to eat. She nibbled on a few stale saltines until she could justify leaving the house. 

She realized she was too early when she found herself standing alone outside the church. Each passing second felt much longer than they should have, to the point she started wondering if Amber was playing some sort of cruel trick on her. Why would someone like her want to hang out at church on a Friday night when she could do anything she wanted, with anyone she wanted? 

Thankfully, Amber appeared, still dressed in her cheer uniform, but she wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was a young-ish man wearing tight jeans, a nondescript graphic T-shirt, and an unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows. “What’s up, I’m Peter. But not the one who denied Him,” Peter flashed an I’m-so-clever smile, and pointed upward. Katy looked up at the dark night sky despite herself, knowing she must have missed the joke. Amber laughed her tinkly laugh and playfully pushed Peter’s arm. Peter stood there with a smile on his face for a beat, then said, “Well that’s enough jokes for now! Can’t say the same for later. Why don’t you come in and help us finish setting up?”

Katy followed Peter and Amber inside, looking around in curiosity. She hadn’t been to one of these events so she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but other than a fold-up table covered in pizza boxes, she didn’t see any sign of what they would be doing once the event started. Before she could catastrophize, Amber pushed a stack of papers into her hands and instructed Katy to follow her to somewhere called “The Loft.” She gestured and headed to a stairway. As they made their way up the stairs, posters of what Katy assumed were Christian rock bands and group photos covered the walls. She peered closer at one of the group photos with about fifteen teens and adults with their arms thrown around each others shoulders, standing on a patch of reddish dirt. She assumed they were members of the youth group, and maybe some youths’  parents, because she spotted Amber and Peter at the center of the group. There were a few children peppered throughout, their dark skin gleaming, their eyes squinting in the sun. Most of them were wearing matching T-shirts and sunglasses, but the girls were wearing long bright skirts with thick fabric headbands and headscarves. 

Amber had disappeared into the room at the top of the stairs and yelled, “Katy, come on! We gotta be quick!” Katy felt like she had been caught snooping. She hustled up the rest of the stairs, where Amber had already started placing the papers around the room. Katy moved to the opposite side of the seating area to place her own, what she could now see, must be a church program outlining what she assumed to be the events for tonight’s Fifth Quarter. Scanning the items on the list, Katy wondered if it just going to be…church? She was immediately filled with dread.

“I am so, so excited for tonight! Peter filled me in on what has been on his heart to preach about tonight, and it’s soooo good.” Amber talked while she worked, the excitement in her voice causing it to raise in volume. Katy placed her last few programs and rang her empty hands, watching Amber buzz around the room.

“Looks like you’re done! Let’s head back downstairs for some pizza.”

Internally scolding herself for mentally shitting on church, she followed Amber down the stairs, where the pizza room now had a bustling crowd. She noticed familiar faces from school, the football players with damp hair from their post-game showers, and a handful of adults making sure that whole boxes of pizza weren’t lifted from the table. Peter was nowhere to be seen. Katy followed Amber around as she greeted her friends. Katy didn’t have much to say or add to these conversations other than a faint smile and nod of acknowledgement, so she zoned out. At some point she must have lost Amber, so she was relieved when one of the grownups announced that it was time to head upstairs to The Loft.

As they headed into The Loft, where the overhead lights were now dimmed, Katy saw there was a slightly elevated stage at the opposite end of the room. Peter was at the front of the stage strumming an acoustic guitar, backlit by blues and greens. Behind him, the band was playing a gentle tune full of cymbal swells. Katy felt her insides lift a teensy bit, drawn to the soft lighting and velvety sounds. When Katy got closer to the stage she could see Amber, eyes closed and swaying, sing-humming into a microphone. Of course she can sing too! Then Katy noticed the drummer and the defined muscles rippling out of his T-shirt. His hair was a little on the long side, especially for a boy, and tufts kept slipping into his eyes, to which he’d give a little flick of his head that Katy couldn’t tear her eyes away from.

She heard Amber’s humming swell into words, solid and rich. In any other mood, Katy would have felt the sick twist of jealousy in her gut. But now she felt weightless, heart soaring, and strangely, on the verge of tears. She noticed the crowd, which was initially restless and groaning about the surprise church service, start to sway to the music. Throughout the rest of the worship portion, the people around her grew more and more affected; kids had their arms raised in the air, eyes gently closed. Some girl had started sobbing and a small group of her friends had trailed her to the back of the room. Katy even noticed some eyes of the football players glistening. Something was happening here. 

But then Amber resumed her sing-humming and Peter set his guitar down. He made his way back to the microphone and gently gestured downward with his hands: everyone could sit down now. He clutched a Bible in one hand and placed the other on his heart. 

“What’s up, guys and girls?” His voice soft, emanating warmth, “The presence of the LORD is here tonight.” He continued with the rest of his sermon, probably lifted from the Internet, but no one seemed to notice. Katy felt inspired yet called out by Peter’s message. More than anything, she felt she needed to do something. When was the last time she had felt anything more than restlessness, but without the discipline or willpower to act upon those feelings? In her heart of hearts, she wanted these people to see her, really see her, like what they see, and accept her. She wanted, she needed, to be around people who noticed when she was there and when she wasn’t. 

So Katy started going to church. From that moment at Fifth Quarter on, she attended any and every service that was on the calendar. She was eventually invited to Peter’s exclusive Small Group that met at his house every Tuesday and didn’t miss a meeting. She studied the Bible harder than she had studied any textbook at school, constantly reflecting on what she could bring up to astound the other members of the group with her biblical wisdom. Any time she stated something in group that received a lackluster response, she hit the Bible-studying even harder. If she wasn’t at church, or with Amber, or at a youth group event, she was at her house, curled up in her recliner, poring over the Bible to find something profound to share, something that would solidify her position in the group. 

Eventually, the youth group started planning for their annual spring break mission trip. Katy was burning with what she interpreted as the Spirit of the Lord to go to Valle de Bravo to share the gospel with the lost souls of Mexico. But her dad wasn’t into the whole short-term missions thing—something about unsustainability and inappropriate allocation of funding—so he wouldn’t give her the money to go. Cheeks burning in deep shame at her own father’s faithlessness, she went to Amber who went to Peter and within a week, the Lord provided. She was going to Mexico.

Meanwhile, Amber had taken Katy under her wing at school. She even started going to FCA in spite of not being an athlete. Katy now had places to go most days of the week. As the mission trip grew closer, she and Amber started going shopping to prepare for their trip. They definitely needed water shoes and long skirts for modesty, but they debated on what else they would need. They didn’t want to be stuck in a developing country without moisturizer or toothpaste, but they had limited space in their backpacks. They decided to sacrifice a little space in their luggage for Life Straws so they could have clean water in any slum they ended up in. They bought regular-sized toiletries and split them across their luggage to share. They were ready to spread the good news among the nonbelievers and the Catholics. 

It was a long, squished ride from Mexico City to Valle de Bravo. Katy was feeling a little confused because on this ride, she saw a ton of ornate-looking buildings with crosses on top that looked suspiciously like churches. Also, when the immigrations agent at the airport asked her where she was going and she said Valle de Bravo, he had said, “Ah, para vacaciones.” Katy didn’t speak Spanish, but “vacation” in English sounded very similar to what the agent had said. This interaction prompted her to review the itinerary that she had barely looked at before their flight.

Once they arrived in Valle de Bravo, they would rest, have dinner, and then have Small Group at the hotel. The next day, they would hike to see the monarch butterflies. They didn’t have what Katy perceived as missions-related work until the next day: they would go up into the hills of Avándaro, a neighboring town to see the waterfall Velo de Novia, and then walk through the market passing out pamphlets about spiritual gifts that she and Amber had made with Google Translate. They wanted to share the gospel and the tools to discern the faithful from the faithless, proof of the Holy Spirit’s work in Christians. How life is different with spiritual gifts of the Holy Spirit.

The first night during the devotion, Peter and Amber led worship with their voices and an acoustic guitar. Peter advised them to have a thick skin but soft heart for the next few days as they ministered to the inhabitants of Valle de Bravo. They would take some time to admire the beauty that God had provided with the butterflies and waterfall and meet the locals by passing out their pamphlets about spiritual gifts. 

Katy, in spite of her original expectation to bring hundreds of souls to Jesus, was having a blast without having one conversation about the gospel outside of their group. The hike to the butterflies was drastically more difficult than she had anticipated, but she had never seen so many butterflies in one place, so the struggle felt worth it. Their next outing to the waterfalls, Amber and Peter practiced their harmonies with the pounding water as their backup, which left Katy to her own thoughts. She realized that perhaps she was on vacation instead of proselytizing to the masses, but really, she wasn’t too mad about it; she did her best to ignore the shame she felt at doing what pleased herself instead of the Lord. 

Afterward, they walked through the booths that lined the entrance to the waterfall, passing out their pamphlets. Katy noticed a few of the recipients looking up at them with a quizzical expression once they saw the paper, but she told herself this must be the look of epiphany: this must have been their first exposure to Jesus Christ. Once they ran out of pamphlets, they headed back to their hotel on the lake for a sundown boat ride. 

Back at the market outside the waterfall, a woman named Maria rested in the shade drinking an agua fresca. She had done pretty well with sales that day. She saw her boyfriend, Diego, emerge from the dwindling tourists on the path with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

“Había un grupo de gringos aquí,” he said, waving a piece of paper in his hand. 
“Sí, les vi. Pero que es ese papel?”
“Información de condones!” Diego burst out laughing. 

“Que?! No manches?!” She grabbed the paper from his hands and to her dismay, read “La Gente Condones” in a font colored with alternating red and green, decorated with crosses. Why would a religious pamphlet bring up such a topic? She skimmed the rest of the sheet, unconvinced that the gringos would have come all that way to share the good news of contraception, but her English wasn’t so good. She could barely even understand the poorly translated Spanish. Pobrecitos.