Arizona Tea and Age Sixteen

I sit in the passenger seat of our small black Jetta. You are next to me, pulling us through the night. We are on our way to the remote Canaan Valley, West Virginia. It is 1:20 AM, and the roads are covered in a dark fog. There are two full Arizona teas in the cup holder from our short stop at 7 eleven. The Shins first album 'O, Inverted World' plays softly in the background. I twist in my seat so that I am now facing you. Your face is calm and peaceful- your eyes resting gently on the road. You feel my gaze and look at me, catching my eyes for a moment before I turn back around. I am wearing your favorite hoodie and holding a copy of "Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis in my hand. "Keep going!" you whisper. A smile spreads across my face and I flip open to the page where we left off. "If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning." Your face lights up, as your mind is sparked with thought. 

"It's so true. If this world doesn't mean anything, we wouldn't know to look for meaning." 

"Exactly." I respond. I continue reading as we fly through the darkness on the back country roads of West Virginia. About every few pages or so I stop reading and we fall into a deep discussion of the context. I love it when in the middle of a debate I get quiet, and let you carry on. Sometimes you forget that you're talking. I sit there, starring out into the foreign distance, as you go on and on with your thoughts. I would never get tired of hearing your brilliant words and your soft poetic voice. Your mind never ceases to amaze me. This is perfect. This just couldn't be more perfect.

My phone rings. "It's in your head, in your head..." Zombie, by The Cranberries blasts from my env3. I lift my head and remember where I am. I am in the basement of the church. "Hello?" I answer the phone, as my eyes adjust to the dim light of the empty room. "Hey it's mom. I'm going to need a few more hours here, I hope that's alright with you." 

"Yeah, it's fine." I reply.

"Okay, I'll be in my office."

"Alright, bye." I hang up, and rub my eyes. I am sitting at one of the high tables in the back of the main room. A tall can of Arizona tea and a copy of Mere Christianity sit on the wooden table top. My macbook sits open, with a draft of my latest blog entry on the screen. I close the computer and scan the familiar atmosphere. The high school room is a large recreational space, with white tile floors and an extremely high ceiling. Numerous doorways and exit signs line the walls. At the front there is a wide stage, complete with a drum set, rack full of guitars, three mikes, and projector screen. Two sky lights above the stage pour light onto the floor. The rest of the room is covered in dark shadows. In the back of the room, where I am, shelves are filled with NIV bibles. Through the door to my left is the main hall- lined with photo collages from retreats and trips. I focus my attention back toward the front of the room. There is a white stool sitting on the carpeted floor, center stage. I kick off my flip flops and skip across the cold floor until I reach the steps. After grabbing a guitar off the rack, I walk into the soft pool of light surrounding the small stool.  I take a seat, placing my bare feet on the rungs. There are some moments in life that just feel different. There is something so beautiful about where you are, what you are doing, and how you are doing it. You know that if anyone else saw you in the act, they would never see you the same. For me, this was one of those moments. This is a room that on a Sunday is filled with loud laughing and smiling teenagers, praise filled worship songs, and deep inspiring talks. This is a room that holds a special place in the lives of hundreds of kids throughout the area that go here. This is a room that is at the heart of the job of the youth pastors. This is where each college student on staff has stood and given their testimony of faith. This room has held so many emotions. This room has seen so much. This room belongs to so many people. And right now, in this very moment, sitting on this stool- this room is mine. A huge smile spreads across my face as I let the magic resinate. I lift the guitar to my lap and place my fingers on the strings. I start to strum. 

"Dear Father. I'm just sixteen.

I'm sick of high school.

what are you asking of me.

Oh Dear Father, I am just sixteen,

I cannot do this on my own,

show me who to be."

I feel the passion of my words spread throughout the room. My heart rate increases and I close my eyes, strumming as hard as I can without breaking the strings. I sing louder and louder, putting all of my breath into the words. This is the height of the moment. This is the part where I forget where I've been and where I'm going. It becomes just here. just now.

"Dear Father. I'm just sixteen.

Take this fear away I pray

so I can be the girl you want me to be.

Dear Father,

give this life meaning." 

I stop playing. The ring of the last chord permeates the open space. I remember my dream and let myself fall back into the lullaby of the steady procession of the car rolling across the pavement- slowing down at each curve, then speeding up on the straight-a-ways. C.S. Lewis' words pop back into my head. As I dissect the quote from memory, I speak out-loud. "Meaning. Our awareness that we feel a lack of meaning in life proves that there is meaning. That lack of meaning is our lack of reliance on God. God gives us meaning, God gives us purpose. " And this is why I must be sixteen. God wants me to be. God gives my life meaning. He gives age sixteen meaning. I hop off the stage and walk toward the back of the room. "This is the start of a major tradition" I whisper to myself with a big smile, as I reach to the back table. I slide my macbook into my bag, grab my tea, and head for the stairs.

Yes. And I can't wait for it to continue.