There’s a part of me that’s proud that this is only really the second time we’ve made a big push for fund-raising.
There’s another part of me that’s ashamed of the part of me that’s proud of that.
The reality of our situation is one where we have to rely on the generosity of friends and family every day, and there’s a deep level on which I don’t enjoy doing that. It’s the same part of me that rebels at the idea that I need the emotional support of friends, the unconditional love of my wife, or even the merciful work of Christ on my behalf at Calvary. At the core of it, I don’t want to owe anyone anything. I want to be self-sufficient. I want to stand upon the metaphorical mountaintops of my life and shout to the world “I did this!”
It’s tempting to approach our efforts in this from the “If you think Rick needs humbling, please send us money cuz that’ll do the trick” angle. And while there are worse causes to get behind, there may be other compelling reasons on the table. Let me talk to you for a minute or two about a few of them.
We’re getting ready to launch ourselves into a terrifying and really exciting new phase of our ministry in Quito.
Up until now, we’ve both worked for the Alliance Academy International, and earned a stipend from them that amounts to about $700/month/each (before significant taxes). We would not have survived here without the faithful financial giving of so many of you. Nearly four years into this adventure, it gives me pleasure to be able to say that God has provided for us in such a way that we’ve never been in serious need. We certainly don’t live in luxury (unless living at 9,300 ft. in the Andes, a five-hour drive from both the beach and the jungle counts!), but we live comfortably.
For the last couple of years, since we both fulfilled the terms of our initial contract with AAI, we’ve asked ourselves as the school year began to wind down, “Is it time to go?” While there have always been things that make us want to be in the U.S. (family, friends, Chipotle, etc.), there has remained a strong connection to the work we do here. We don’t want to leave the kids. I think some people call that “not feeling released.” I’ve never known exactly what that means, but I can resonate with it. I still don’t know whether or not I’m cut out to be a “career missionary,” but I’m confident that up ’til now, God’s been saying “just hang out here for a bit, I’m doing something.”
Now, I’ll be completely honest. I believe God is always doing something, but for the past four years, I’ve not at all been confident what exactly it was. There were times where it seemed like it was about killing stuff off in me (a worthy endeavor), or teaching us patience (not so bad either), or perhaps even putting us in a place where we learned that God’s successes can still look like abject failure in the eyes of a very North-American/Western/idealistic/opinionated/bald/41-year-old guy. There’s a lot I don’t know. I do know that part of it has had to do with ministry to students.
(Give me a second for an aside here … I’m going to talk to you primarily about me and my dreams and my heart for the rest of this message. While Rachel’s ministry here has likely been more far-reaching and long-run impactful, it’s my efforts that are going to see the greatest change in the next few months. Perhaps soon I can talk her into sharing some of her heart as to what this new season will look like for her.)
Getting to the ministry to students part, here’s what a week looks like for me in terms of student ministry stuff:
I have two lunches and one breakfast every week set aside specifically for student contact. One other lunch a week is always used for that purpose provided no other responsibilities intrude. Between 2-4 class periods per week are typically taken up with individual student contact as well, some of it regular and scheduled, some of it spontaneous.
I try to plan at least one weekend/evening event for groups of students every month. Last month, I put together a co-ed, overnight camping trip, and a couple weeks before that, hosted an overnight guys’ movie night at our apartment. Events like that have been regular throughout the last couple of years.
I have a small group that I meet with weekly. I attempt to make weekly individual contact with each of them as well. The conversations I have with the guys every week about what it means to be a Christian man in the 21st century are some of the highlights of my life.
I try also to make time every week in more overt outreach (as opposed to “inreach”). Every year I try to identify students that are more “fringe” that I feel may respond well to input from me. Much of my contact with this group necessarily looks different than my contact with more “Christian” kids. It’s always messier It often has different themes, language, and ways of connecting. I find my time with these guys to be my most challenging. They tend to be more “real” and comfortable with their flaws. I learn lots of lessons while working with my non-Christian kids that I and my Christian kids really need.
Working at the school for the past four years has been a blessing and a curse to me. It’s been a blessing because being in near-constant contact with kids provides me with so many opportunities for engaging in real relationship and deep conversation. (On a good week in the US, I could hope for maybe a couple of hours with youth group kids.) It’s been a curse in that the details of my job (teaching, prepping, design, tech support, etc.) don’t give me the time to do what I feel called and gifted to do. (I’m closing in on 9 weeks worth of weekend and evening hours since September that I’ve put into my job description in addition to the expected 40 hour work weeks, AND they’re splitting my job between two people for next year.)
I realized something about halfway through this school year. I realized that I’m already doing what it is that I really want to be doing, I’m just too limited in my time and resources to do it effectively or on the scale I desire. I don’t really know that I understand the concept of “calling,” but I do understand the concept of compulsion. I minister to kids because I don’t know how not to. It’s my default setting. It’s what I know that I’ll be doing, in some form, for the rest of my life.
I also realized that teaching three classes, being the official school photographer, serving on the school’s public affairs team and handling all their promotional materials and the website, as well as all the teacher/club/class/event posters, brochures, flyers, and such was keeping me from doing the things I felt compelled to do.
I waited a couple of days, and went to my boss and told him “Listen, you guys have hired me to do this set of things, and I’m not doing them well. Part of the reason I’m not doing them well is because I feel called to do this other set of things. The only way I’m going to do the things you’ve hired me to do well, is if I quit doing the set of things that I feel called to do. Since I know I’m not ever going to be able to quit the things I feel called to, the logical conclusion for me is that I should tender my resignation so that I can better minister to the kids at your school.”
That began about a six month process of looking into what next year was going to look like. I’ll spare you all the details, but the process came down to Friday of last week when I was offered a position with our church working as a youth ministry associate.
This is already getting long enough that I’m getting tired of hearing MYSELF, so I’ll try to wrap up.I have a three-pronged goal for my ministry next year:
- I want to continue doing what I’m doing now, and do it better. I want nearly every lunch and every breakfast to be freed up for meeting with kids, whether one-on-one or in formal or informal groups. Time after school, either for activities/sports stuff or for one-on-one time, would be freed up significantly as well. A more flexible day would enable meetings with seniors with study halls and off-campus passes, coffee with ministry partners, etc. I look forward to the opportunity to plan more outings for the kids next year. I hope to build the budget to take them out to dinner, paint-balling, or just over to my place for movies and popcorn. I want to plan community-wide scavenger hunts, music nights at local restaurants, weekend trips for ministry opportunities, and camping outings. I’m excited about the chance to identify other like-minded adults and give them the chance to connect with kids and get to know them. I look forward to seeing relationships grow.
- Ultimately, I want this to become bigger than the Alliance Academy/English Fellowship Church/missionary community bubble. I want to be part of a team that branches out into other schools in the ex-pat community, which continues to grow at incredible rates in Quito. Immediately, I want to bring those kids into what we’re doing. In the long run, I want to take what we’re doing to where they are. I want to be a presence at other similar schools in the area. I want those kids to know me and the people I work with as well as the AAI kids do now. I want this youth ministry to ultimately be much bigger than our church can handle on it’s own.
- Next level, I want to build a youth center. I want a place for these kids to call their own. I want to build a place where they can feel ownership, where they can feel at home, and where the team can more easily find those connection points. I’d love to run a camping club out of it. Maybe jujitsu classes. I’d love for it to be a concert venue, or maybe have a climbing wall. I’d love pool and ping-pong tables, and a coffee shop. Maybe we’d offer counseling or tutoring services. Maybe seminars/classes … cool stuff for the kids, more ministry-driven stuff for the team and others we might invite.
The position that English Fellowship Church has asked me to fill, while it doesn’t yet have an official job description, would focus on “relational youth ministry,” and I’m incredibly excited about all the things that might develop from this.
Here’s the hard part. We need money. We’ll be getting half of our annual stipend from the school next year. That’s about $700/month, plus another $160 of insurance that we’ll have to cover. In a future message, I’ll try to lay out a better idea of our budget, but here’s a few directions in which I want to see our finances go this next year:
- I need greater Spanish skill. I’m getting pretty good, but long conversations about deep things still pose a challenge for me. If I’m going to be working with Ecuadorian students in schools where English isn’t as much of a presence, I need to get better. I’d like to hire a tutor a couple of times a week to push me. That’ll probably be another $100/month.
- We need a car. We both have our licenses here, but are still largely dependent on public transportation to get where we’re going. In the city and on our own, that’s fine. If however, we want to be a functional part of moving kids around town or out of town, we need a vehicle that can seat a few. We’d love to get a 4×4 SUV (the better for off-road, backcountry, camping trips). Unfortunately, it’s next to impossible to get even a very used vehicle here for less than $10,000.
- We would both love to have more funds to pour into relationship and community building. Our apartment is already known in the community as a place that’s open to kids and adults for pretty much whatever. The last year or so, though, as living expenses have continued to grow, it’s been increasingly hard to be a mini-community center in a community that really needs connection points. An additional $200-300/month would give us so much more leeway to open our home, take kids to lunch/dinner, etc.
We’re looking forward to seeing many of you this summer. Please bear with us if we want to spend some time talking about how God’s going to provide for our needs next year.
Thanks so much for all you mean to us. Please keep us in your prayers, and please spend yourself every day in kingdom-building.
Sincerely,
Rick Sams