Several weeks ago, in order to kick off a new year of student ministry, we had a high school guys overnighter at church. Very little planning went into the event as the major goal was to provide a time to simply hang out and get to know each other better. However, to start off the night, the youth pastor and I put together a foot-washing ceremony to be followed by an extended time of prayer. The foot-washing was a stretch, something we had never tried before. It was, however, an incredible time of unity, humility and service. This set the stage for our extended time of prayer.

  Seldom had I seen a group of high school students focused at one time on their relationship with Christ, on their journey with their Savior. The prayer time started and it was pretty evident that we were in the midst of a very special, spiritual moment. After we had prayed for one student in the middle of the circle, I heard a commotion at the entrance to the room.

  The door opened and in walked one of our female students with a super soaker. The high school boys were stunned, silent, not really knowing what was happening. She walked around the circle, spraying each of us with water. The boys sat still, not knowing what to do. Eventually, she got them mad enough to start to chase her from the room. As soon as that happened, several girls came running into the room, super soakers on full blast, silly string flying all over the place. A very reverent, holy moment was replaced by utter chaos.

  A fifteen minute water and silly string fight ensued as I slumped down into my chair, wondering how such a moment could be so wholly ruined. The fight moved outside where water hoses were used to replace the super soakers. I nearly cried as I was left in the room alone, stunned.

  To be honest, I was incredibly angry at first. I got up from my chair and began to pick up gobs of silly string in righteous indignation, muttering under my breath. Then, God began to get through my thick skull. This was life for these students. This was spirituality lived out in the messiness of the world. Our prayer life, our spiritual life, was not a moment carved out on a Sunday night. It is life. Ministry, prayer, life, is about the interruptions that always come along. It is about the sacred moments of laughter and pain, of hopes and fears, of dreams and disappointments.

  The silly string allowed me to see a prayer life that is richer and deeper and more real. It allowed me to realize that our intimacy with Christ is lived out moment by moment, even in the craziness of the world, even in the unexpected events of the day. As I picked up the gobs of silly string, I began to pray for each student, for each leader, for my own walk. The silly string reminded me of His love. Of His craziness. Of His deep, intimate and abiding love in each of our lives.

  Eventually, the fight died down, and the boys made their way back into the room, a little wetter, a little more energetic than before. We restarted the prayer time—with a different perspective, I think. No, restarted is not the right word. The water and silly string fight were somehow part of the prayer time. We didn’t restart it. We continued it. God does have a sense of humor. I think He was pleased that night. I think He laughed with us. I know He smiled down as His children were living out life in wonderful and unexpected ways.