My house was overrun by teenage girls this weekend. It's Tuesday now and I'm still finding traces of the girls around the house like the extra razor,and shampoo and conditioner in my shower. There's a Bose speaker in my living room that somebody left here. It's quiet now but it boomed Christian rap last Saturday. I'm still expecting to find socks and fruit loops in the couch cushions when I get ready to look. 

 It was Spring Retreat and we were a host home. Jason graciously volunteered our house as a host home for the girls five years ago and then camped out in the apartment, missing out on all the fun. It's become an annual tradition. 

  

I'm being subtle here (and it's a challenge) but let's be honest,  I've entered an older, crankier time. I mutter things under my breath like "kids these days drink one sip out of a water bottle and then leave it there".  Sunday morning I spied five ownerless water bottles, each missing approximately one tablespoon of water. I shook my head; maybe because I hadn't gotten the sleep a forty-something requires, or it could have been the fact that thirteen girls getting ready in two and a half baths is stressful (Then again, it could be the older, crankier thing). 

Spring Retreat wrapped up Sunday morning at the 10:15 service. I sat behind our teenagers secretly glad I'd be getting the house back around noon. We had a guest preacher who gave statistics about the probability of these kids staying in church when they're older. The numbers are staggering. 

• Only kids whose parents both go to church consistently, have a good chance of staying in church as adults. 
• Kids whose parents don't attend church have around a six percent chance of sticking around.

 I looked at the kids in front of me and noticed that the odds are stacked against many of them. In response to the six percent figure, one of the teenagers in close view elbowed the girl beside her and proudly whispered  "That's me."  And yet she was there. 
She was here in my house. So were some of the fifty percenters. There were girls at my house this past weekend who were in best bracket. They have an eighty percent or better chance of being a part of a church as adults because their parents make it a priority for them to be there even when there are more weekend opportunities than they can shake a stick at. 

These messy, loud, giggly (fun-loving)girls were in my house filling their hearts and minds with Jesus this past weekend. They discussed obstacles in their Christian walk and how to get around those obstacles. They prayed for each other. They built each other up. Yesterday our oldest daughter received an encouraging bible verse from a friend who attended this weekend. She sent her friend one too. 

There were also boys across town growing in their walk this past weekend.

 Those barely touched water botrestored  me with "the glass is half full" optimism. 

I'm glad those girls were here. I'm encouraged by the upcoming youth. It's a generation of busy, but devoted eighty/something percenters, some passionate six percenters and some kiddos in between who love God and are growing to know Him more in a time where the world seems weightier than it did in my day and age. 

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Be thankful for them. 

Pray for them. 

Support them and train them by taking them to church. 

Get to know them. 

Bring them to my house (just not this weekend). 

Signed,

A Hopeful Mom