Dear Friends,
I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, "Rules are meant to be broken," or "It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission." Generally, I’m not one to break the rules—after all, I’m usually the one making them, and I believe in leading by example. But this past summer, I found myself bending one of our Ministry’s rules. To be fair, it wasn’t intentional, but let me share the story, and you can decide for yourself.
It was the first day of camp, early Monday morning. I was picking up boys for camp, and it was still a bit dark outside. The van was already bustling with about ten boys, all excited and full of energy. It was loud, and they were practically bouncing off the walls. After picking up the last group of boys, we headed to the gym to start the day.
As we made our way to the gym, the boys and volunteers were buzzing with conversation. The first day of camp is always a bit chaotic, especially with middle schoolers. We played some basketball, ran around, and engaged in some good-natured trash talk. Eventually, I blew the whistle, and everyone gathered on the stage for introductions, a rundown of the rules, the schedule, and our first devotional.
As I began, I noticed a boy I hadn’t seen before. I asked the leaders if he was a guest, but no one knew him—not even the other boys. When I asked him his name, he said it was Nate and mentioned that he got on the van at the last stop. Curious, I asked how he heard about Leverage Ministries. He simply replied, "What? I just followed two boys onto the van. It looked like fun, and I didn’t have anything else to do."
So, here I was, faced with a boy who had just jumped onto a van with a stranger, not knowing where it was going or when it would return, and not knowing me at all. He asked if he could stay for the day, and I said, "Yes, but I’ll need to meet your parent or guardian and get a permission slip filled out before you can return tomorrow." Nate agreed, and off we went to start camp.
The next morning, there was Nate again at the last stop, now fully integrated with the other boys, who seemed to have become fast friends. When I asked about the permission slip, Nate apologized and promised to bring it the next day. I bent the rules again and let him come along. The following day was the same story: no permission slip, but plenty of pleading from Nate and the other boys. I gave in once more.
On the way home that day, Nate sat upfront and told me he had listened to the lesson and prayed to accept Jesus. He then said, "I wish I could have shared that with my dad." I told him he could as soon as he got home, but he looked at me and said, "It’s too late. My dad died of an overdose right in front of me, and we had his funeral last Sunday. But I’m going to share this story of Jesus with the rest of my family." As Nate got off the van, he looked back and said, "Thank you, Pastor Scott. I’ll never forget this." That was the last time I saw Nate. He didn’t come back to camp for the rest of the summer. I never got his permission slip, and I don’t have an address, phone number, or even his last name. The other boys said they haven’t seen him around.
I’m not sure what happened to Nate, but I believe those three days mattered. I truly believe he said yes to Jesus. Nate is like many of the kids we meet—some we spend years with, some only 20 minutes, and others, like Nate, just three days. But whether it’s 20 minutes, three days, or many years, our mission is the same: to point every single one of them to Jesus and disciple them in their relationship with Him. As Romans 10:14 says, "How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?"
Thank you so much to each of you who partnered with us to make this past summer possible. We had many who said yes to Jesus. Please continue to pray as we start the discipleship process and our fall ministries.
In His Service,
Pastor Scott Hirdes