Hold up, wait a minute. Let's back this up a little.
Long before the three Ds of the devil began to surface during my 3rd summer (2012) on CYE staff, I was at peace with selling all of my possessions to follow Christ in reckless abandon in 2011 for a second tour of summer staff, the missionary internship, and what I thought would be an indefinite commitment to the ministry until the better half of my vocation found me. Read about it here. I learned some excruciatingly important things about myself whilst living in community, namely my temperament (choleric/melancholic), my primary fault (pride), and that Christ is the only constant in my life. More on the first two in another post.
Anyways, after the painfully poignant formation I received during the missionary internship, I signed a two-year covenant commitment to Christ through CYE. I originally signed-on to be one of the first to commit to the youth ministry missionary apostolate (comparable to NET ministries), but instead, it became my apostolate to manage Basecamp and Catholicfest. I was at peace, but I was also terrified because I lacked credentials (a business degree), but I'd been in that situation before (I was hired as a youth minister without a theology degree, and only 22 years of lukewarm Catholic schooling, 10 years of field experience, apostolic zeal, and the Holy Spirit to back me up. I was pretty set). I trusted the formation directors, but, more importantly, I trusted Jesus.
It takes a certain amount of fortitude to trust anyone when you have no idea what you're doing and are supposed to "be in charge." Of course, we at CYE all know what we are never "in charge" of anything; we're obedient to the Holy Spirit. Obedience is one of the most gorgeous sanctifications in community life. It's easier to trust if you're obedient. However, obedience and trust are next to impossible when one is on the outside of the community, which is what I was. I had no support system, and I felt like everyone hated me, didn't understand my role in the mission, or took my personality flaws personally. At the same time, my own mother disowned me because I refused to go against my conscience just to honor her wishes. Psalm 27:10, Bless the Lord.
It was a full-frontal assault from the Deceiver, that filthy little liar. Thank God we had Jesus in the tabernacle at Bethany house. But, no matter how much I would go in to cling to Him and weep at His feet, despair, discouragement, and despondency quickly sunk in and stealthily snatched my serenity. Suddenly, CYE, a ministry that Christ had used to save my life, was beginning to feel like a dress that didn't fit anymore. I was all alone, I had no familial support, and I felt like my spiritual directors had abandoned me. After all I'd given and done, failure was kidney-punching me and laughing maniacally at my attempts to recover.
Enter Kevin Heider.*
*A little back-story about finding Kevin: During the initial planning of Catholicfest, I'd only heard of a few Catholic musicians that I was willing to hire for an event of that magnitude: Mangione, Bostone, and Spehar. I'd discovered Joe Zambon during our road trip to EWTN and contacted him immediately. It was his song, "Beautiful Lady" that won me over. Much more on him, later. I then commenced hysterics because I had 5 concert slots remaining, and I had no idea where to begin. Naturally, I entered "Steubenville musician" into the Google search engine, and Heider was the first to pop up (not anymore!) I'm a photographer, and the photos on his page were resplendent. I didn't even listen to his music before contacting and eventually hiring him. Providence is providential like that.I met him for the first time the day of his performance during CYEs first ever anniversary celebration of the good, the true, and the beautiful through music, film, literature, and art: Catholicfest 2012. The first song he performed was "Sha-la-la (The Peace and Harmony Song)." It was catchy and quite facetious. I loved it instantly and immediately purchased both albums. I was able to sit down and chat with him after his set, during which I told him a bit of my story. Even though Catholicfest was quite stressful and heart-wrenching for me, I shared with Kevin that I thought it was the most amazing thing ever. I felt like it was my 12th birthday all my favorite bands were playing at my party. (I'm not sure why I said 12, I really think I meant nine, because, at that time in my life, I really wanted NKOTB to play for my birthday. Heh, but what nine year-old girl didn't?) Anyways, after I made that stunning analogy, Kevin pulled out a Love Come Alive CD, handed it to me, and said, "Happy 12th, Jen."
In the middle of my despair, despondency, discouragement, abandonment, self-loathing, and crumbling relationship with Christ, the Holy Spirit decided to send this guy to me during the worst summer of my life to say three stupidly simple and childish words that he probably doesn't even recall. It was at that moment, I later recognized, I knew it was time to change dresses, which was the most torturous decision I've ever had to make.
I took three days off immediately following Catholicfest to allow my melancholia to recover. As soon as I got to my room at the Place 2B, I played Kevin's To Whom it May Concern on repeat, quite fitting, as it's a very melancholic album. Do you do that? Find a great album or song and just desire to listen to it FOR.EV.ER? I do that all the time. Ask me how many times I've listened to the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack. Also, do you have a favorite "on-repeat-forever" song that you listen to all the time, but then, perhaps years later, you actually hear the lyrics? That's what happened when I heard Waterslide:
Look at me, I march in the parade. My daddy says I’m old enough today. To be stuck in the middle of this, it isn’t fair. And it feels like all my thoughts, they all are dead. Every time I try, I fall down. And my head just starts to spin around, like I’m stuck on the side of a dried-up waterslide, and it feels just like I’m hanging by a thread. Everything’s about to change. There’s nothing I can do or say. I’m rusted. I’m weathered. I can’t get back together. Nothing here will ever be the same. Everything’s about to change. There’s nothing I can do or say. I’m rusted. I’m weathered. I can’t get back together. Nothing here will ever be the same. Nothing here will ever be the same.I wept openly for hours. The words had absolutely nothing to do with my situation, but it was like Heider was singing my response to the lies that Satan was whispering in my ear: feelings of failure, powerlessness, uncertainty, of being where I no longer felt welcomed, loved, or a part of something that had such a big impact on my life. It was after about 48 hours of this song on repeat (I kid you not) that I decided I wouldn't return to CYE after the summer. Instead of my choleric getting the best of me and feeling angry about inadequate support or blaming it on other people, my melancholia went into overdrive and turned me in on myself, which happens frequently when Satan is kicking me in the face. There are days I love being melancholic, but most of the time (and this is difficult to explain), I feel like I need to "get out of my own head" because I tend to just make things up that are grounded in feelings and not reality. For example: I felt like I failed the directors. I felt like I'd screwed everything up, did "something" to make everyone hate me, and make everyone exclude me from the community. Worst of all, I felt like I did "something terrible" to make the directors stop loving me. This was the most devastating self-accusation, because those two people know and love me better than anyone ever has or ever will (with the exception of my future spouse, but, even then, it'd be a long shot). It was at this point when I heard the lyrics to The Pedestal:
You walk ahead of yourself and go too fast. But if you go too far, you might not come back. You’ve reached the point of no return and it’s not where you want to be. You’ve been thrown out on a limb and it hurts, but it’s not where you want to be. For every dark night, there is a brighter day. At least, that’s what you’ve heard, you’ve heard them say. You’ve reached the point of no return and it’s not where you want to be. You’ve been thrown out on a limb and it hurts, but it’s not where you want to be. Oh no, it’s not where you want to be. Oh yeah, oh no, it’s not where you want to be. Oh yeah, you’ve reached the point of no return and it’s not where you want to be. You’ve been thrown out on a limb and it hurts, but it’s not where you want to be. Yeah, oh, it’s not where you want to be. Oh yeah, it’s not where you want to be. I’m standing on your pedestal. Try all you want, but I won’t fall. I’m breaking down your pedestal, but I’m not gonna let you break me down. No, I’m not gonna let you break me down. No, I won’t.It finally clicked. Christ was telling me that I had been obedient. I'd said yes. I'd followed with reckless abandon. I trusted. I'd fallen in love with Him. My eyes and heart were on Him and not CYE, and that's all He wanted. The dress no longer fit because I had no occasion to wear it anymore.
I'll spare you the details of "quitting" CYE, but my peace swept back in as soon as I spoke with the directors, and I was able to maintain it for the remainder of the summer. Over the next few months, the best analogy I could make to the entire process was a divorce. I was no longer in love with CYE; I was in love with Truth, and that's exactly what needed to happen. If you're on staff and in love with CYE, you don't understand the mission. CYE can't fix you; Christ can and will. I was hurt and needed a break from ministry for a while, so I wound up working retail for 9 months. Want to renew your zeal for souls? Work and live in the world where you DO NOT belong.
I still loved my directors, and I wanted to help spread the mission and vision of CYE, but I needed space. I eventually came around and helped the sisters a little with Catholicfest and randomly walked in to Basecamp every so often.
Fast-forward to Catholicfest 2013
Thomas Wolfe was correct. When I walked on to the 7.5 acres that had become my home for the last three years, I felt like a much-older sibling returning from several years spent in college. It was indescribably odd. It was great, however, because I didn't have to worry about anything but enjoying all of it. I was able to grab Kevin (and Joe, and Luke, and take awkward photos of the three of them) for a minute to chat with him. I'd already told him some months prior about my "split" from CYE, but I wanted to explain something in person.I told him that his song, Waterslide had helped me when I'd "decided to divorce CYE." It was the first time I used that term to describe the entire situation which was still very tender and raw. Kevin turned to me gently and said, "You know, that's exactly what the song's about."
I don't know how my eyebrows remained on my forehead. I connect with so few people on a deeper level like that. But this guy, this random Steubenville musician, was able to encourage me through one of the most desperate times of my life and then bring it full-circle a year later. because it seemed like we'd both experienced something very similar in our own way (whatever it was).
I don't think anyone has ever read my soul (well, besides THE LORD), but this one came pretty close, and he didn't know it until reading the final syllable of this sentence.
If you've never heard his music, please educate yourself: http://kevinheider.com/wordpress/
Kevin, thank you for being Truth to me at one of the most fragile points of my spiritual life. I'm proud of you, and I'm praying for you and Kristin.
Out.
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