I dated Kim from seventh to ninth grade. The break-up left me churchless. I couldn’t keep going to the same church with her: Who would our friends choose to sit with? What girl in the youth group would date me? Divorce and faith are complicated when you’re in high school you know?
Anyway. My friend Tim invited me to his church. After much thought and prayer, and after realizing that a very attractive redhead who didn’t know my ex-girlfriend went there, I acquiesced and First Baptist became my new church home.
Steve was our Sunday School teacher – and more. After one of the guys in our class attempted suicide, Steve opened his home to us every Sunday night. We watched movies, ate pizza, and talked about life and God and life some more. When my dad went on active duty during the first Gulf War it was Steve who was the sole male influence in my life. When I had my first bout with doubt and depression my Senior year it was Steve who literally held me and let me cry it out and then just listened and prayed and told me his own stories. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you Steve saved my life.
I was fortunate enough as a teenager to not only have a great father at home but a great mentor too.
One Sunday night, I remember, we circled up to pray as we always did before stuffing our faces. Steve said he wanted to share a dream with us. He’d decided he, a successful single business man, was supposed to use his wealth and extra time to build a school. Honestly, as he described the place he had in mind, I thought he may have seen Dead Poets Society too many times. He wanted to create a place for students from all over the world to come and receive a great classical education and be transformed into Christian servants and leaders. He asked us to pray.
And we did. Every Sunday night. Over the years, as we moved on to college, got married, moved across the country, he kept the twelve of us guys and the classes of guys that came after us updated: Land was purchased. Money was raised. Ground was broken. Classes began. More buildings were created. The purpose was honed. Grades were expanded. And on and on.
This week I stood in Steve’s dream, on the stage of our answered prayers and taught 300 middle and high school students about what they were saved from and saved for. I told them Steve’s plan for The Brook Hill School was always bigger than sports and education. Our prayers weren’t spent for national titles and diplomas. Brook Hill was always about introducing students to God, to their purpose, to the revolution Christ wants them to be part of, the one that transforms hearts, then cities then nations.
When I graduated from high school Steve gave me a clock. On the back was written a verse he always comforted me with on my darkest teen aged days: “I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. To give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
I’m not sure Steve realized it then, or realizes it now, but God used him, the man who quoted that verse to me again and again, to give me that future and hope.
And this week was incredible for me because I got to see Steve again and pass that hope on to 300 more kids he is loving well. And be inspired by his dream come true.
Who is your Steve?
.
Shaun,
I can’t thank you enough for spending your time this week with us doubting, searching, and at times a bit crazy teenagers. I have always known of Steve’s dream as I too grew up(still growing up)at First Baptist with Steve as my Sunday School teacher and a mentor for me and my brother for many years. In sunday school when Steve would talk about Brook Hill and all the great new things going on I never thought that I would actually go there one day. But I do. And im so greatful. This week I saw my friends quetion, get mad, and then seek God. I want to let you know since I get to experience and walk in the prayer that you and so many others prayed… that its great. It like any other school has its ups and downs but most of all it is a place where no matter who you are you get the privalenge every day to go and be who you are and most importantly be loved. By Steve, and by every other mentor that walks that campus. So just so you know, yall’s continuous prayers I thank yall for… every day because everyday I get to go and be who I am and be loved…
Thanks for a great eye opening week! I wrote my first letter to Tania today(my cute little girl who I am sponsering) and I can’t wait to hear back from her! Thanks again, and God Bless!
Make sure to come back home more often!
Madison Humphries
Brook Hill Soph.
my steve is someone i didn’t know very long…he was a student teacher my junior (and last) year in high school. after turning in something i wrote, he encouraged me to feel whatever it was i was feeling as deeply as i could possibly feel it. sure, it would make for manic highs and lows and intense anger but to have each of those felt so deeply would only lead to scarring.
which sounds bad.
but in reality, those deep scars which form every time i feel deeply (whether i express it or not) has, over the last 11 years, allowed me to experience empathy and passion like i never would have before.
My “Steve” is actually a couple. Phil and Nancy taught my Sunday School class my junior year in High School. I’d grown up in that church, but moved away for two years for my dad’s job. I’d hated leaving and hated returning even more. I was pretty bitter and fairly tough on my parents for that high school upheaval. Phil and Nancy were a very “cool” couple. They had us over, took us places, went on many youth trips and endured being the brunt of many practical jokes. Nancy will forever be known as “slick cheeks” after a toilet seat vs. Vaseline incident on a ski trip. They were wonderful role models for us as a married couple and eventually as parents. I babysat their boys often. Their youngest is just a couple of months younger than my oldest! It was them I told about my engagement right after my parents. Lots of advice to the “lovelorn” came from them during those turbulent years and when our youth pastor divorced, it was them I turned to for answers and “whys.” We still stay in touch. They came to see us in England when we lived there. Great couple indeed!
Beth
Ohh who’s muy “Steve”…bummer I don’t think I’ve ever had a “Steve”. Honestly, I had a few friends that maybe pointed me the right direction, doesn’t mean I listened but nope never really had a “Steve”. But can I still be in the club if I wanna be a “Steve”?
I don’t believe I ever had a “steve” in my life. I did pray for a family like that, often; but I always called them the anonymous “smiths”.
I do hope to become a “steve” in someone else’s life.
Thanks for sharing. May we all become “steves”…
Actually, you were my Steve. You came to Denver in 2001, I tried to find your concert area three times, missed two, finally found your bus just by looking through some trees and there it was. Went in, alone, broken by sinful relationship sinking like a water filled ship, and sat in the dark and watched this young man sing this music I liked so much, Welcome Home. And others. I had been living isolated, basking in my pain, and your song about the party dress was riviting to me, Two Cents, as I was in a pity party. That night as well lead to many doors being opened that God would just not open for me until I was in a place of being clean again. I do believe that God will not bless a person if she is proudly living a sinful life, and I mean living with a man out of marriage. It goes against His nature. If you had any idea of how difficult it was for me to get out of the house that night and go to that concert, you would be amazed. It was as if I had to overcome one hurdle after another, but the amazing thing is I got there, by this crazy tour bus view through the trees after just giving up and starting to drive home. That was the start of where I was able to get back up on my feet, feel forgiveness, stop being angry at my Christian friends that had, it seemed, left me to fend for myself, and it was a moment that is a marker in my life. Thank you for your music and words. Everyone needs a lift up from Jesus at times, and you made that available by coming to Denver one October night. And I loved your stories that night, about the children you were involved with. Had to get off the pity party for sure, and I picked up a Compassion child that night and have stayed with him all these years, even after two job layoffs, kept him going. He was one step in the direction of praying for someone other than myself. His letters are so fun to receive, and we traded hand prints, his in mine, mine on his, but now his is getting larger! He sure put my life in perspective.
Regarding all sides of a walk of faith, I have to say that I had isolated myself so much with this one person that I had not many friends left. The few I had were with him, and they were supposedly Christian, but when it came right down to it, they just moved out of the view, and that is the part of our humanity that makes us sink on water, we can be cruel as people. I had a lot of bitterness that had been building since the summer of 2001 and yet God in His way was putting me back together, making what was broken whole again. First by 911, then by your concert. I actually met some new friends that night and that was an odd story in itself. Angels sometimes I think, that just come at the right time. I came to learn that people can let you down, and that I had to forgive them. Took a long time. Whenever I feel the urge to go back to that place in my thoughts, I put on your party dress song, and it brings me back around to the knowledge that God alone is the one to depend upon. But he does use people, even in our human frailties, we can do small things that add up to a bigger whole as a body.
Glad to see you still making music. Thanks, just thanks…
Linda in Denver
My Steve is several people at different times. It was great b/c yesterday I was able to see an elementary school teacher who I stayed in contact with even though now I’ve graduated college. He’s been a great inspiration to me regarding my walk with God and education. I’ve been blessed to have those people in my life. Thanks for the reminder.
what an amazing story that was. . i love to hear of dreams actually coming true!
I don’t have a “Steve”…..didn’t have one……I want one…..
My Steve was a man named Homer Hanna.
Homer was the Director of the children’s home I grew up in. (http://www.stch.org).
I was a rebellious kid–angry at God and the world–for “taking” my mother and father away from me.
Homer told me about Christ.
Homer told me that God had a plan for me.
Homer was my Steve.
A couple of years ago, I got to go back to the children’s home and talk to kids about how God loves them and has a “future and a hope” for them. And I plan to go back again in another couple of years and tell a whole new group of kids the same message.
Thanks for sharing Shaun.