July 8th brought with it the Grace Presbyterian Ignite Mission Trip, which I agreed to chaperone. To really give you a full picture of all of this, I should tell you that one and a half years ago, a youth made me promise to go on the trip his senior year. As I agreed, I included the contingency of "if I'm in town". This particular youth is one whom I have known since I first started working at Grace over five years ago. He plays in the band, and through that I have gotten to see him grow up and developed a close friendship with him. I am genuinely glad I got to be with him on this trip. However, I was not prepared for the emotional turmoil it would highlight, though I should not have been surprised.
Youth ministry is something with which I struggle. Leading Young Life for 5 years was great, my times working for Young Life have been fantastic, and the few youth lock-ins have been a blast. Upon my return from Oregon last October, the GPC youth director, Kirk, asked me to help with the new college student ministry. I agreed, though a touch reluctantly, so it started as me helping to drive for their college trip and evolved from there. I told Kirk many times that "I'm taking a break from youth ministry". In fact, I still tell him that I'm taking a break from youth ministry. He ignores me. One of the many things with which I have been blessed is an ability to establish really close relationships with students younger than me. The college kids are people whom I love, and this mission trip showed me how great our high school youth are as well. The caveat to this is that, like any good relationship, I learn things about each of them. Sometimes, I learn things that as a church staff person, or as a youth/college group leader, I don't want to know. Walking the line between close friend and mentor is something that, up to this point, I feel I've managed well. As kids get older and are faced with more decisions, I'm afraid that this balance becomes more difficult. Another difficult thing is seeing potential in them, and seeing potential that they are not meeting.
Being as emotional as I am, my feelings are very much tied into the success of my "kids". When they make decisions I'd rather not see them make, I'm impacted emotionally. Now, I do not claim to have the perfect way of life. My path through life has worked for me, but it isn't the right path for everyone. But, I do believe in my ability to see damaging situations, or decisions that are not going to pan out well. When my kids make these decisions, it breaks my heart. They confide in me because I love them unconditionally (as much as I am able), and because, somehow, I have earned their trust. This is a situation that I never want to jeopardize. I cherish the authentic conversations about life, love, and all things that I have with these guys. Part of this is my heart's willingness, and almost need, to jump into the pit next to someone before I even know there is a pit. But I find myself, when they open up to me, taking their brokenness on as part of my own. The weight of their worlds gets added to the weight of my own. And I think Jesus designed me this way intentionally, yet I don't cope with it well, always. It overwhelms me.
Last night I had the strong desire to not be a confidant for everyone. I didn't want to know things anymore, and I didn't want people to ask me for advice. The introvert in me, having spent 9 days with 30 other people, was suffering hard. My mother received a tear-filled phone call, during which I cried like I haven't cried in a long time. Part of this was very positive. The senior who invited me and I shared some really incredible moments, and I am changed because of it. I told my mom that I didn't understand why he loved me, or why I loved him, but we really do love each other. Part of it was frustration with watching students be led on, drunken videos being sent to our mission trippers from people in leadership roles after a really high moment on the trip, actions not following the words that were spoken to me, and seeing a student not meet the expectations I thought were made known to him (I've since learned that no one made the expectations known).
A lot of the conversation was wrestling with this idea of how to do ministry without wrecking myself, and if I should really pursue ministry. Ministry is something I feel very called to. Ministry is also something I want nothing to do with as a career. The conflict is real. This mission trip was full of people, unprompted, telling me they really think I should pursue ministry. They had no clue about my inner-struggle, and when they learned of it, they encouraged all the more. Do I listen to that? I don't know. Right now, I'm terrified that I am not strong enough for it. My fear is that I will live in a constant state of exhaustion. I don't doubt my ability to love my kids. I doubt my ability to maintain any separation. But, Jesus maintained no separation from us. But, I'm not Jesus. You see my struggle? I have no ability to limit my heart, nor do I want to. What I do want is to never feel like I felt last night. I never want to be so exhausted and overwhelmed that I can't think straight. I don't want to be in the position of knowing things that kids needed to express so that they can still be loved through it, but having those same things be things I feel strongly against, and should probably tell someone higher than me, all while knowing that telling someone would affect the kid negatively (positively?), and potentially be detrimental to our relationship, and my relationship with that person's friends.
All I've ever known is how to love people. It seems to be the one thing I do well, consistently. But I'm scared. My heart hurts, and I'm tired. For now, I shall address conflict and hurt as I know to do, I will love my kids as those relationships turn to genuine friendships, I will always be truthful with those people, and I shall pray. But is that enough? Scripture says yes. I am not, do not want to be, and cannot be Jesus for these people. Only the Son of God can do that. However, sometimes I feel like only Jesus can actually do what I'm being asked to do. I'm sorry that I don't have an uplifting spin to end this with. Right now, my heart is full of love, questions, and hurt. And I don't know when I'll receive answers. Faith and Love can move mountains. Now I'm waiting for them to move me.
