Mexican night. Loads of flags decorating the drop in, a pinata, hot chilli's, moustaches and nachos. Although an argument between a few senoritas turned slightly heated and the pinata smacking stick threatened to be turned into a weapon, it was a good night. God keeps bringing new youth in off the street which is so good. All we have to do is be open, make them cups of tea and chat to them. Man, I truly love it. And we are getting to work with some truly amazing, but in need kids. Such a privilege. This is why I am here.
It's been so surreal this week. Gillingham is such a small town, and generally once the kids live in Gillingham, they will stay here their whole lives. So many times I have been walking down the high street and bump into one of the youth I worked with when I was here last. Or be meeting one of them for lunch and they just bring a few others I haven't seen yet. It has been so good.
I seriously feel like, nothing I say, or no matter how many times I describe things, or gush over how amazing it is, or say how much I know that I am meant to be here, it just doesn't do it justice. I almost want to bring everyone here, to Gillingham, on a field trip and experience it firsthand. The streets, the atmosphere, the people, the high street, the churches, the accents. I am very glad, yet so overwhelmed, that Jesus uses ordinary people to be trusted with work he wants to do. The youth teach me things everyday. Not only the definitions of rude words, or the interpretation of the weird english slang, but things about life. Truly amazing.
On the odd occasion our drop ins aren't open, we do detached youthwork. This generally involves some kind of football game in Gillingham park or the Skinner street football cage, a load of school kids and, for me it's usually an energetic form of public humiliation. I apologise every time I set foot on the field for the lack of skill, and for what sort of talent the kids are going to witness in the following hour and a half. This is then usually followed by one of the other guys trying to get the kids to believe that I play for the New Zealand national football team; a rumour which is dispelled the second I miss the ball, miss the goal or in the moment I end up on the ground. It is truly hilarious and I like to think this lack of skill makes me more approachable for the young people. Or even just a good laugh. Unsure though. Definitely crossing sports ministry off my life calling list. Although, I did get a goal today. yeah boy. I think half of Gillingham could have heard the celebration that followed. Incredible.
On another note, I like to think that the love of football is what spurs the population of Gillinghams' love for tracksuits. Matching bottoms and sweatshirts, nike, adidas or puma with possibly even a matching cap. Now this would make sense, if they ran everywhere, or had just been to the gym, or even were getting ready for the lead up to the olympic games. But they're not. It's just the thing to do. And the sports shop here even has a bridal section, just incase you want to wear a white tracksuit on your wedding day. Perfect. Obviously I have put an order in for the future. mm yes.
Downham Market pretty much sounds as quaint as it is. Cobbled streets with houses lining each side and fairy lights strung between them, beautiful english accents and brilliant countryside. Seriously straight out of some sort of calendar. A visit there to see some friends was just the perfect outing for a crisp Sunday.
As much as I do love this place. and the kids. And can't believe that I can legitimately take youth out for lunch and chats and class it as work. However, I have to admit the weather is rubbish. Just so dreary and grey. Second winter is truly getting me down.
I am craving summer so bad. I need a tan and a swim in the ocean.
Enjoy it for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment