A weekend in Southport

We have just spent the weekend at a Salvation Army conference, Roots. It began 13 years ago in the wopwops of Wales, so I was 11 years old at the first one. I can really only remember two things- the pink denim shorts I wore constantly and one time walking past a big tinted window, curiously pressing my face up to it to see what lay behind and then being well embarrassed when I realised I was peering into the Adult main session from the window just above the stage. Eek. In hindsight I suspect the shame was unnecesary seeing as they were probably far too busy with the Holy Spirit to notice little freckle face up there. (This was the momentous meeting of The Salvation Army and the Toronto Blessing.)I loved that weekend, for the first time in my life God was close and exciting.
From its umble charismatic beginnings Roots has quickly burgeoned into an institution in itself, with people attending in their thousands.
This was my first one for six years and Tim and I were on the Engage Team in the Youth Venue. Our thing was to hang out in the campsite and outside the venue, trying to connect with the young people that for whatever reason weren't into the meetings. Our mission was to make sure that every young person that came along to Roots, whether they got involved or not, went home with a corner of an idea about how much God loves them. We chatted our socks off, played vortex, cracked jokes and drank bucket loads of tea and it could be up there with one of the best conferences I have been to in 13 years!
Lifelong friend and ministry tool of the Roots Engage Team.