2012 in Review: Part Three

 
In the sweltering summer of 2011 I fell in love with the youth ministry intern at my church. I found myself looking forward to every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening service because he was there. I volunteered to chaperone the youth group lock-in to “help out,” and when I witnessed how fun the teenagers were and other summer plans fell through, I volunteered to chaperone the mission trip. It was fun and I began to draw to the teenagers, their stories, struggles, sins and even (especially) Justin Bieber obsessions.

We dated briefly, a quick summer romance that fizzled out in the early fall, and I will never regret it because of the connection my heart made to youth ministry. He wasn’t why, but he was a bridge.

In the late spring of this year I decided to seek out an internship of my own. With encouragement from friends, I emailed a youth minister that I had heard was looking for a summer intern. He responded enthusiastically and within a few exchanges, and without even an interview, I was hired to work at a church in Mississippi for the summer.

The heavenly nudging to explore this ministry was so strong that I moved to Mississippi eight days after returning home from Europe without sickness or stress. I was ready and eager to see my prayers answered.

The first week of the job was intimidating. I had a fear that the teenagers would hate me. I had a fear that they would ask me a question about the Bible, salvation or Jesus that I wouldn’t know how to answer. I worried that I was leaving one of them out of my prayers, I worried that I wasn’t fostering a passion for the Word in their hearts.

The male intern and I worked hard to plan fun events. We organized exciting activities from outings to an indoor trampoline gym to more spiritual settings such as the small group Bible studies at Panera Bread. We painted houses in the inner city of Memphis, helped with an inner city VBS, went out for milk shakes, had a water balloon fight, and went to camp.

We grew close, had deep conversations, and had an absolute blast together—and I was loving it.

But the numbers were always low in attendance and we struggled to understand why. We would plan, pray, set up, and a few teenagers would show up. We were exasperated and rung out. Caring about the spiritual lives of apathetic people is frustrating.

We pressed on though, the youth minister, intern and I, because however rung out, however frustrated, we never stopped caring. I saw that ministry isn’t always perfect, that it has it’s shiny spots and it has it’s messes, but that it’s important and it’s work.

Our end of the summer Going Away Pool Party was the most well attended event of the summer with close to thirty people. I smiled to myself because with that many people gathering to see us off, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe God had changed something through us.

That, or they were sick of us and couldn’t wait for us to leave.

I think I’ll believe the first option. (wink)

 

 

But what did I learn?

 

 

P.S. I have received some touching personal life stories/experiences. I plan on featuring those next week! Shoot me an email to share your own: alsnarratives(at)gmail(dot)com