Why The Warehouse?
A few months ago, someone asked me if I grew up to be who I wanted to be when I was 14. I have been thinking about this ever since. Mostly because I don’t know how to answer it. When I was 14, all I wanted to be when I grew up was alive. I wanted to know that tomorrow would be better than the day I was in. The day I was in didn’t always contain the hope that tomorrow would be better. But the year I turned 14, I met a group of people who absorbed me into their circle and showed me what it looked like to be safe to be myself. They introduced me to hope. If you have never lived in the absence of hope, it is difficult to describe how it feels to find it. It’s not like turning on the lights after you’ve been sitting in the dark for a long time, that’s far too jarring. It’s more like watching the brilliant colors of sunrise appear after a cold, dark night. It imparted my world with beauty and purpose, and invited me into the warmth of actually living.
I have never forgotten what it meant to be invited into that circle of friends. We had space to play music, draw on walls, watch live music, skateboard in parking lots, and be mentored by caring adults who knew the value of spreading hope. So many of us came from broken or disengaged families. We had nowhere else to go, and no one else to pour into our lives. Their impact on my life was so intense and I can say with full confidence that being part of that circle saved my life. They launched me into the great big world and showed me that I had the right to exist as the unique person I was. I am so grateful for every person that put the effort into creating space for us wild teenagers to gather.
Ever since that time, my heart has always been soft towards the left out, the broken, and the misfits. I have tried to inhabit spaces where they were celebrated and welcomed in. My heart’s desire is to become the kind of person who creates spaces for people to be themselves and find hope. It’s what drew me to Jesus in the first place - this knowledge that those people were the very same that He cared for.
He made space for the broken and cast aside and then asked his followers to do the same.
Last year, our church began asking why we had 24/7 space that we used for ourselves only 10 hours a week at best. It’s a really cool space and has so much potential! We have always wanted our space to serve the community more than it served ourselves. And so we wondered,
“What if we turned this building into a youth center and we just met in it on Sunday mornings?”
Which led to the creation of The Warehouse Youth Center.
We decided to let high school students come in and create the space that they wanted to be in. Build the circles they wanted to stand in. We have artists who have painted murals on our walls, musicians who have played live music they wrote, and the freedom for kids to be themselves and spend time with their friends. But perhaps the most impactful thing I have witnessed at the Warehouse are kids who belonged nowhere finding a place that not just welcomed them, but celebrated their existence. They have built friendships and found their voices.
The reality is that teens are dying from lack of hope. I have not forgotten how it felt to sit in that darkness, nor how it felt to watch the light of hope dawn on my life. We will continue to open these doors knowing that this space is changing lives. Friday nights are set aside for us, non-negotiable pieces of time carved out to serve the youth in our town. Our hope is that the students who come through our doors would feel heard, wanted, accepted, and loved unconditionally. We have dedicated this time to parsing out hope to those who would hold it. Every drink served, every conversation held is sacred. Each of these kids matter to us, and it is an incredible privilege to be part of their stories in some small way.
So, perhaps, I did get to become who I wanted to be when I was 14. And my hope is that through the Warehouse, other teens will have the ability to witness the first dawning of sunrise at the end of their dark night. One sacred conversation at a time.