[controversially]

I know that whatever I'm about to say here may/ will have implications. I am aware that my words carry weight, and this post may possibly be my most controversial as of yet; which is why it took me a good 2-3 hours to consolidate my thoughts and also to consider very carefully whether or not to post this. I want to be as cautious as possible, such that the cynical-negative(?) spirit doesn't find a new host and replicate itself spawning into something that the church will have to grapple and battle against. Lord, sanctify my lips; sanctify my words; sancitfy me.

Let's begin first with a positive recollection. I was walking back to the community centre where we had cell group and was just reflecting and talking to the Lord at the same time. I realised that even though organising camps and planning stuff for the ministry (including cell structure/ material) may sound fun and rewarding, I really don't want to do it. I know for certain God has given me a heart for the youths, more specifically the boys, and I don't want to place myself on a planning pedastal; I want to be with the kids. Marx is right: social change doesn't take place in a philosopher's, or in this case a planner's, chair but it takes place from the ground up. Being a role model for these boys is what I want to do. That being said, I know and am confident that the Word that has been taught and given to me ought to be the sustanance of my life: it alone is my providence and source. At this point, I'm reminded that in the Christian walk with Christ, one must never ever leave the cross and the beauty-brutality of it. The centrality of the cross must be the crux of a Christian's life.

Then I also realised that the people you love most are also the people who grieve you the most. They are the people whose actions/ words/ attitude/ even behaviour will hurt you the most. But at the same time, they are also the people who brings you much joy and laughter. They lift you up with the smallest acts and sweetest, albeit little, words. My three boys fall in this category, as do my cell kids. They are the greatest joy and blessing God has ever given to me apart from my family.

And it is also this very same love for them that compels me to type this entry.

I have been a cell leader for the past 6 years of my life. It is no mystery that I will/ should be leaving the ministry soon, as much as I don't want to. I have seen my kids grow into the men and women of God today, themselves soaked in the Word and prayerfully living out the Word as well. Last week, when I was reading 3 John 4 which reads: "I have no greater joy than to hear my children are walking in the truth", something stirred within my spirit. I had to praise God for my kids; I knew I had to. These past 6 years have also allowed me to take on a rather active role in the ministry: how God opened doors for me to organise events, including a camp in 2008, be a mentor to three wonderful boys, be part of the cell material planning committee and also a ministry leader of the sound team. He has indeed moulded me to the person I am today.

But now that I'm 23 - an age that sits precariously on the fence of the youth ministry and that of the young adults', I feel as if I'm being sidelined (read: marginalised). It's not as if I am the only one feeling this way; others feel it too. When I think about my contemporaries, I wonder to myself whether they too are getting the same attention as they (we) got when we were only beginning as cell leaders. I remember saying this to myself while walking back to hall: Under the guise of the youth ministry being dynamic and always changing, the older ones will inevitably be sidelined and forgotten. Where have all my peers gone? Are they receiving the same attention -- let's not even mention feeding and encouragement -- as they received when they were beginning? Now that the older cells are more stable and firm, it seems as if we're forgotten.

And I say we're being forgotten also because there isn't any proper way out for us, yea, even into the young adults' ministry. The bureaucracy of the church has taken ahold of the 'family' that the Word speaks of: what's yours is yours, what's mine is mine. There ain't no proper transition, and I doubt there will ever be one. It saddens me a hell lot really, that we proclaim ourselves to be a family of God yet the boundaries seem to be marked clearly along invisible bureaucratic lines. It's depressing.

When I say that the youth ministry operates under the guise of dynamism (constant change), new leaders are sought after every year. I don't deny that there is such a need since so that the primary six children can transition more smoothly into the youth ministry. In fact I see the transition of these children to be more systematic than that of the youths into the young adults' ministry. I sincerely hope we're not playing the numbers game here, please. But back to the new leaders. There is an ongoing active search for them and I agree that youths ought to recognise that just as they have received from their leaders, they ought to give to the younger ones as well. But here's my gripe with the entire situation: You grab these youths now and turn them to leaders. No doubt we will train them well, and with the support that the older leaders can give them and of course with God's grace, they will blossom to be effective shepherds of the flock entrusted to them. But will they end up like my contemporaries and I, forgotten and sidelined because "Oh! A new batch of kids are coming in!"

I really don't want/ wish to see my own kids fall into this same hole that many of us find ourselves in. It's saddening and also depressing because these kids do have potential to teach and preach the Word to the younger ones. But until a smooth transition programme from youth to young adults' ministry is more concrete (structurally) and a heart for ALL youths within the ministry is present (agency-heart), I'm doubtful even cynical of putting these youths up for leadership. I also realise that the leaders who are currently well rooted in the ministry are those currently active in the smaller ministries within. What about those who aren't rooted in/ serving in those ministries? I fear for them too.

By saying all of this I'm not attacking the church, nor am I discounting the efforts of the present staff team. But that doesn't stop me from fearing for these youths' lives: like some of my contemporaries, some will leave the church, others might perhaps leave the faith altogether. I don't give two-shit about the numbers; I only wish for the family of God to be what it is: a family of God. It is this fear that stems from a love for them that compels me to write this. You probably can't see me and my heart, but if you can you'd see me cringing both outside and inside. I'm afraid and I'm saddened by the brute reality of my mind's playback and constructions.

I'm honestly leaving this in God's hands. This is my spiritual family -- it is also my spiritual community, though at times it doesn't seem like it -- and I know I have a part to play. But I am only one, and as of now I wonder how my cynicism will lead me to be reflexive about this issue: change it, or leave (both literally and metaphorically) it? God's the head of this house and He will not let His church fall: by His very Word, He upholds the universe, what more a church/ spiritual community? As I write this out, there is a certain assurance in my heart that He is present and He knows best. Whether or not I'm gonna be part of His plan, I don't know. All I know now is that He is control and He will act when it is time for His name's sake.

As of now, I just want to be found obedient and fulfill what Christ asked Peter to do if the latter loved Him: Feed His sheep -- that's all I want to do.