“We are in Neverland, and these are the Lost Boys.”
I struggled with the association at first. In the stories, Neverland is beautiful and amazing, and the boys living there are so happy. This Bandung Neverland is a place to run to. They are children of the prostitutes and drug addicts/dealers working in the hotel less than 100 yards away. They sleep on this beautiful rooftop not for pleasure, but for escape.
“God, give me the words to speak into these boys” I pray.
Andrew and I have an awkward and great time teaching them a little English as we tell them about our hometowns and our states and what the weather is like etc, and God immediately leads the conversation into a discussion of faith. It was all about understanding each other and what we believe. No fear in either side, no hesitation against rejection. Just an honest time of asking questions. Andrew and I share our testimonies and the Gospel and they are intrigued.
“Oh, I see, God. I got this!”
I think about these guys the rest of the next week. I get sick and my only prayer is for an appetite, sleep and to return to the Lost Boys so I can make the big move of digging even deeper and scoring a conversion or two! (I want this because I do not want to leave a single experience without giving it my all, and my fear before the Race has been half-assing things just for comfort’s sake).
God returns me to them last Saturday and it’s go time. We hang out and do an English lesson (which Andrew came up with out of nowhere *fist bump*) and then they proceed into a jam session with their guitars and Andrew on his.
And now I’m sitting there alone in the group. Everyone is immersed in the music having a fun time, and the last thing I want to do is interrupt a great experience and make it awkward to fulfill my own goals. I am seriously disappointed in myself and my experience that I’m not going to have a good time to share more.
“Uh, God..? I’m trying to work here, and I can’t even get a second real conversation with these guys? Why am I failing? My heart wants this, but I can’t do enough.”
Just some of my thoughts in this moment.
ENTER RUFIO
Rufio* pauses the jam session for a moment, “Now I will play an Indonesian song for you!”
I’m still in a whiney spirit in my head, but I’ve chosen to just accept that I’m not going to succeed in this moment. “I guess I’ll enjoy the music while I’m here–“
*Tap on the shoulder and quiet question from one of the Lost Boys*
“Justin, do you know this song?”
“I do not, but I like it. What is it?”
“It’s Peter Pan.”
WHAT
“Justin, I’m here. I’m working. You’ve done enough. Relax. Rest in My presence and enjoy this time with your new friends (WHO ARE OBVIOUSLY NOT LOST BOYS),” God whispers to my soul.
I never thought I had a spirit of performance until that moment. My fear of inadequacy as a Racer is the only thing that’s lost now.
I have no ending to this story except to encourage you to act when the Spirit leads and then let Him do the heavy lifting from there.
You are called to share, but you are not called to perform at any man-measurable level. God isn’t that overbearing, too-high-expectations sports parent you always see at the games. He’s doing the work. You’re just a son or daughter He loves and wants alongside Him in His work.
GO BACK AND READ THAT AGAIN.
My last request: Pray for Rufio* because I believe he has real influence amongst these No Longer Lost Boys. He’s a muslim, but only a half-hearted one (his words) and he wants to know God wholly.
“Father I miss you, if only in my dreams” are the last words of this Indonesian Peter Pan song. They have no idea how much more He misses them and wants them to come to Him. Pray that the seeds planted will continue to be watered and Rufio* will realize that he can know God more than he ever imagined.
How cool would it be if this Neverland became a church? That is my prayer.
BANGARANG!
*Changed name for privacy and dramatic effect because Rufio is awesome.
