L.I.F.E. Lessons (pt. 1)
"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about." — Angela Schwindt
Over the course of these 12 years of youth ministry, I have taught 100s of lessons. Whether it be: Wednesday night exegetical work; Sunday Night book readings and debates; Thursday morning devotions; the occasional Sunday sermon; multiple small groups; camp seminars; young adult Bible study; and the list goes on and on.
This, though, is not surprising. When you’re a youth minister that’s what you do: you teach. It’s like being surprised that a janitor uses a broom, or that a mathematician has a calculator. It comes with the territory. If I wasn’t doing these things, I wouldn’t be doing my job, and the church would probably be looking for a new youth leader.
What is surprising though, are the lessons that I have learned along the way. I think in our own ego and pride, we often think that we adults have all the answers. It’s our job to teach; it’s their job to learn. What I have found to be true, though, is that for every lesson I teach, I learn two more from these youth. For what I thought I knew about how L.I.F.E. should be, they have taught me what this whole life, ministry, and call is about.
So, for the next several weeks, starting today, I am going to share with you some of the memories, stories, and lessons I have learned from these young people over the years, and how they have truly transformed my life and walk with the LORD.
Today’s teacher is Alan. This lesson takes place down Short Mountain Highway.
For those of you who don’t know Alan, Alan was a firecracker. When he walked into the room, the atmosphere changed. Alan was loud, goofy, incredibly kind and extremely intelligent. He was the school’s star athlete (played 3 different sports throughout high school), while also being one of the top students in his class. He could do it all, was liked by all, and that rang true here too. Alan was one of a kind.
Alan and I had become really close over his time here in youth group, as he and Alex were constantly with me (more on this season of life later). It’s because of this, why it was so shocking the night he was at youth and said almost nothing to me. He wasn’t making jokes with his friends. He wasn’t answering questions in youth. He wasn’t even really competing in the games. This was not like Alan. Like any decent youth pastor, I asked Alan what was wrong. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was insistent about that.
When it came time to leave youth, Alan didn’t even want a ride home. He wished to walk. Now, Alan didn’t live too far away, but far enough that this made me uncomfortable, especially since clearly he wasn’t being himself. I insisted to give him a ride. He refused. I let him know, “If you’re walking home, I’m walking with you.” And so, we walked.
During this walk, no words were exchanged. Not even a little. I simply walked Alan home, watched him walk into his house, and then got a ride from Mykaela. That was it. It was definitely uncomfortable and a bit awkward. I worried what was going on and feared he may not be back. Thankfully, though, he was back the next week and back to his normal self. We moved on as if nothing happened, and that was okay.
Later that year, at our annual GraceCONVO conference, we gathered for our nightly follow up from the worship. Sometimes, these talks get emotional as the youth share about how much the youth group means to them and such. This night was one of those nights. Alan, with tears in his eyes, shared about how much the youth group had meant to him and shaped his life, and specifically, brought up that night, when we awkwardly walked for 25 minutes in complete silence.
When he shared, he mentioned that walk meant more to him than I could’ve ever known. For where it would’ve been easy to just let him go, he revealed how much he felt loved, seen, and cared for in that moment. As he shut himself off from me, I continued to be open to him. For that, we was extremely grateful. Now, I was in tears.
I think of this walk often in my ministry now, reminding myself that I don’t always have to fix the problem. I don’t always have to say anything or have the right answers. Sometimes, the best and most powerful thing we can do is simply be present. That’s my message for you all today. Some people aren’t ready for your response. Some people don’t need it. All they need to know is that they’re not alone and that you’re there when they’re ready. Be a people who are willing to stand awkwardly in the midst of the silence and the unknown, and just be there for someone. You never know when your presence will usher in the presence of the Divine.
Over the course of these 12 years of youth ministry, I have taught 100s of lessons. Whether it be: Wednesday night exegetical work; Sunday Night book readings and debates; Thursday morning devotions; the occasional Sunday sermon; multiple small groups; camp seminars; young adult Bible study; and the list goes on and on.
This, though, is not surprising. When you’re a youth minister that’s what you do: you teach. It’s like being surprised that a janitor uses a broom, or that a mathematician has a calculator. It comes with the territory. If I wasn’t doing these things, I wouldn’t be doing my job, and the church would probably be looking for a new youth leader.
What is surprising though, are the lessons that I have learned along the way. I think in our own ego and pride, we often think that we adults have all the answers. It’s our job to teach; it’s their job to learn. What I have found to be true, though, is that for every lesson I teach, I learn two more from these youth. For what I thought I knew about how L.I.F.E. should be, they have taught me what this whole life, ministry, and call is about.
So, for the next several weeks, starting today, I am going to share with you some of the memories, stories, and lessons I have learned from these young people over the years, and how they have truly transformed my life and walk with the LORD.
Today’s teacher is Alan. This lesson takes place down Short Mountain Highway.
For those of you who don’t know Alan, Alan was a firecracker. When he walked into the room, the atmosphere changed. Alan was loud, goofy, incredibly kind and extremely intelligent. He was the school’s star athlete (played 3 different sports throughout high school), while also being one of the top students in his class. He could do it all, was liked by all, and that rang true here too. Alan was one of a kind.
Alan and I had become really close over his time here in youth group, as he and Alex were constantly with me (more on this season of life later). It’s because of this, why it was so shocking the night he was at youth and said almost nothing to me. He wasn’t making jokes with his friends. He wasn’t answering questions in youth. He wasn’t even really competing in the games. This was not like Alan. Like any decent youth pastor, I asked Alan what was wrong. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was insistent about that.
When it came time to leave youth, Alan didn’t even want a ride home. He wished to walk. Now, Alan didn’t live too far away, but far enough that this made me uncomfortable, especially since clearly he wasn’t being himself. I insisted to give him a ride. He refused. I let him know, “If you’re walking home, I’m walking with you.” And so, we walked.
During this walk, no words were exchanged. Not even a little. I simply walked Alan home, watched him walk into his house, and then got a ride from Mykaela. That was it. It was definitely uncomfortable and a bit awkward. I worried what was going on and feared he may not be back. Thankfully, though, he was back the next week and back to his normal self. We moved on as if nothing happened, and that was okay.
Later that year, at our annual GraceCONVO conference, we gathered for our nightly follow up from the worship. Sometimes, these talks get emotional as the youth share about how much the youth group means to them and such. This night was one of those nights. Alan, with tears in his eyes, shared about how much the youth group had meant to him and shaped his life, and specifically, brought up that night, when we awkwardly walked for 25 minutes in complete silence.
When he shared, he mentioned that walk meant more to him than I could’ve ever known. For where it would’ve been easy to just let him go, he revealed how much he felt loved, seen, and cared for in that moment. As he shut himself off from me, I continued to be open to him. For that, we was extremely grateful. Now, I was in tears.
I think of this walk often in my ministry now, reminding myself that I don’t always have to fix the problem. I don’t always have to say anything or have the right answers. Sometimes, the best and most powerful thing we can do is simply be present. That’s my message for you all today. Some people aren’t ready for your response. Some people don’t need it. All they need to know is that they’re not alone and that you’re there when they’re ready. Be a people who are willing to stand awkwardly in the midst of the silence and the unknown, and just be there for someone. You never know when your presence will usher in the presence of the Divine.
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This was an excellent lesson and I thank you for sharing it with us