The events contained in this entry cannot be summed up in one single title. Read and be amazed.

"There's a story burning in me. I wanna tell it again and again. It's a story of redemption bound to change the hearts of men. I cannot find the words, and sometimes it sounds absurd, and I don't even know myself all the depths, the heights, the wealth. How can I tell this story again to make you wonder when you stopped believing? How can I paint a picture of this kind of love, this kind of healing?" ~Sara Groves

This is not a story about me, my sister in Christ, our Friday night, or anything that we could have done. This is a story about one broken teenage guy, one amazing God, and how the two are finally beginning to get to know one another. Unfortunately, in order to tell this story clearly, I must include some mentions of myself and my dear friend Lauren. But please ignore them to the best of your ability.

This past March, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. The morning following my admission, I was quietly sitting in the unit lounge when a fellow patient by the name of Max exuberantly introduced himself to me. This kid was crazy, I thought -- he strolled around the stuffy hospital unit barefoot in pajamas all day, gave me awkward looks whenever he had the chance, and talked... a lot. I knew he was a lost soul, but figured he was a hopeless case. As he revealed every aspect of his life, one by one, I listened quietly as my heart broke. I said nothing out of fear of moving him even further away from the heart of the gospel. He was discharged the next day.

About a week later, I too was discharged and moved to partial hospitalization, where Max also was. I got to know him better this time, as I was in a much better place and up to listening to all his crazy rants. Long story short, he found out I was a Christian, and that led to numerous divine conversations. He started coming to youth group with me, and he loved  it. It was the first time he'd experienced love regardless of who he was, where he'd been, or what he believed.

This past Friday I was at Lauren's house for a sleepover. I sent Max a message asking how he was, since Lauren and I had seen him in town earlier that night. He nonchalantly informed me that he had been called a faggot by his own mother, kicked out of his house for being bisexual, and was now sleeping at a train station.

At that moment, something radical happened in my heart. An intense desire that simply couldn't be ignored, that demanded I abandon all common sense and love on this kid like Jesus would. A bisexual agnostic hippie who has been in several mental hospitals, smokes weed and curses like a sailor. Who is loved by God more than anyone could ever imagine.

Lauren knew and loved Max from youth group, and when I told her the situation, she said, "We need to find him."

So we did. But, I must admit, we sinned in order to do it. We lied to Lauren's mom, telling her we were just taking a walk around the neighborhood because we had to talk. But instead we walked to where Max was, praying that God would bless the time along the way, and took him back to the house. Hid him like a Christian hiding a Jew, waited till the other Peiffer's were in bed, and sat on the front porch. We both figured we'd let him stay for a little bit, then tell him he had to split. Sorry, but we can't just let you stay here for the night without her mom even knowing about it. The Lord had other plans.

We talked. We talked about God's sovereignty, speaking in tongues, sex, and pain. The big bang theory, I believe, and salvation, along with some other things. He told us he found it "absolutely terrifying" to believe that God is in control of our own destinies, that he did not feel loved. I felt Jesus' burden for the world, not for the first time, but somehow that seems to always grip me. We poured love out to him until it hurt. In what seemed like five minutes, the clock struck four o'clock in the morning.

We saw the sun begin to rise, and it was beautiful. Lauren had the spontaneous idea to drive to Peace Valley Park and watch God paint His masterpiece of a new day. So she told her mom our plans, not including the tiny detail that we had Max along for the ride. We frantically grabbed blankets, a candle and lighter, camera and laptop, a pillow and a Bible. We gazed at the indescribable beauty, and it was that moment that Max believed.

No, he didn't get saved. Sorry. But something I've learned is that it is nearly impossible to be radically and spontaneously given food, love, and shelter by two Christian teenage friends, then immediately after watch the sun rise and still not believe in God. He told us he saw how the Lord put the night together perfectly. We saw it too. We told him how awesome of a Christian he is going to be one day. We can just see it sprouting out of him. He is being transformed into a new creation, and we are jumping up and down in excitement with God, waiting in suspense to see what He is going to do next.

We did nothing that night. God had really great things to do and He took us along for the ride. It was really fun, I might add.

Lauren's mom called, wondering where we were and what was going on. What we told her was going to be a quick trip to the park turned out to be two hours. We rushed out, dropped Max off at the train station, told him we were really sorry and that he better get on the next train to somewhere he can lay his head, and walked back into Lauren's bedroom as if nothing ever happened.

Finally we had a second to breathe and realize what God just did. We sat for a long time simply marveling at how amazing our God is. We were on a high, similar to that you get when you've just gone on a mission trip and seen miracles occur one by one, several times a day. And then the guilt set in.

We just obeyed God's call to radical abandonment, to love our neighbor as ourselves, and He blessed our socks off because of it. But... we sinned  in order to do that.

Ouch.

We felt a need to come clean to Lauren's mom, although neither of us wanted to do it. We prayed together as sisters in Christ, that Mrs. P would grant us mercy and that she'd see the magnitude of what occurred and be astonished. We prayed that the Lord would calm our fears and give us the words to speak as we revealed the truth of what was really going on that whole time.

Then we walked into Lauren's mom's bedroom, and Lauren stated, "Mom, we have a confession to make: We lied to you." We told her all the events of the past twelve or so hours, explaining to her why we lied (although there is never an excuse to that) and sharing with her how God moved mountains. She had not one ounce of anger and even admitted that if we had told her what was going on from the start, she would never have allowed us to continue. She told us she was proud of us and was truly taken back by the sovereignty and loving kindness of our Creator.

The sad thing about all this is that I cannot display to you all that happened in words. I cannot tell you that Max got saved the other night, or that his parents suddenly and miraculously stopped abusing him. I can tell you that seeds were planted and that God wowed us, but that would be an understatement and wouldn't give the Lord all the credit He deserves. We will all remember this night forever, and we know that someday Max will be sharing his testimony of how he met Jesus, and he will say, "One night my mom kicked me out of my house for being bi. These two church girls opened their home to me and just loved on me. I saw something different in them, and now I know it was the Spirit. That night changed my life forever."

Please know that I am not boasting on what we did. I am boasting on what God did, but these words alone will not tell you that in full. We are so in awe of Jesus Christ.