19 Things I Learned In 19 Years Of Youth Ministry, Part 5

Piggybacking on yesterday's "Spiritual formation is a slow business" theme...

The phone rang at about 1:30AM. As I am want to do, when asked if I was asleep, I said, "No...what's up?" For some reason I see sleep as a weakness.

Anyway, the voice on the other end said, "You might want to get to University hospital. It's D. She was in a bad car wreck. Really bad. She's in I.C.U. She might not make it."

It was D. She was in a bad car wreck. She was in I.C.U. And there was a very real possibility she wasn't going to make it.

By the time I'd gotten to University, the emergency room wait room was overflowing with teenagers. They were glad to see me and we prayed and they cried and I got pieces of the story. She had to be home by midnight. It was 11:45. The only ride she had from the party was a guy who'd been drinking some. Not sure how much. The car hit two trees in the wreck...no seat belts. They think D's head hit both of them. We prayed some more. They cried some more. It was a long night. No one slept.

The next few days were full of ups and downs as every couple of hours there was new information. Sometimes the doctor came out and encouraged. Other times he would point to some difficult news he'd just discovered. We met every day at the McDonald's right after school to pray for her.

The next few weeks became encouraging as she stabalized. There was lots more good news than stuff like "the plastic surgeon needed more photos to reconstruct her face." Her memory was returning. The swelling was down. The other injuries weren't as severe as previously thought. Doctors used more phrases like "this is pretty remarkable to see this after an accident like that." The daily prayer and McDonald's become bi-weekly. Then weekly. We made sure to be thankful.

The next few months were filled with funny stories during her physical rehabilitation. You know, like when the doctors were concerned that she couldn't remember who the President was, and her mom informed the doctors that she wasn't really the kind of kid who'd ever really have known that information. "Ask her Matt R's last four girlfriends. I bet she gets those." She did. When she went back to school she wore a bike helmet.

The next few years, she graduated and went to the local community college. We lost touch after that. I've always wondered where she was spiritually because for a couple of years there, she and I were very close. She didn't have a dad in the picture. I had time. It worked.

But those early days after the wreck were emotionally draining.
The next few weeks were kind of exciting.
The months that followed were encouraging.
The last year was pretty normal stuff as far as that youth minister stuff goes.

And while that story was more extreme, even the more low-key stuff could take it out of you physically, emotionally, spiritually...whatever. I'd wind up pacing the floor at night over some conversation I'd had with a kid that I thought I should've given different advice in the aftermath. I'd come home from work and have a bad day because of some kid's unwise choices we talked about. I'd get WAY too excited about some teen's latest profession to "get their act together." I'd allow an event's attendance to cause elation and give credence to the idea we "were being effective."

I developed an ulcer. Or at least some sort of reflux that they treated the same as an ulcer. My doctor, who was also a friend, mentioned that I might need to get a hobby. "But teenagers are my hobby." He meant like guitar or tennis. When he asked me what I did for fun it was something along the lines of hanging out with teenagers. Their hobbies were my hobbies. Of course, we didn't have kids then and Tracy and I went on dates to school functions or kids were over all the time. Who had time for hobbies? Who even wanted them? Besides, I was constantly being rewarded by teens, parents, coaches, school administrators and the like for my energy and enthusiasm and excitment, so why would I want that to stop?

But I learned. Eventually.

And much later in my ministry, someone asked me what the "secret" to longevity in student ministry is...and there are two that I can think of thus far. The one I'll talk about today is something I read in James...

...the perspective of a farmer.

It's long term, man. A farmer might get rain one day and that's good. But too much rain could be bad. Not enough can be bad, too. They just stay faithful to the task. They have to be in it for the long haul.

Because there are good days when the rain comes, and there are bad days when the tractor breaks.
There are good weeks when the back 40 gets plowed and bad ones when you're trying to kill the Boll Weevils (Alabama even has a monument to the boll weevil, so I know from whence I speak!).
There are good months when the corn is knee-high by the 4th of July, and bad ones when the early draught never gave enough hope.
There are good years when the harvest is plentiful, and there are bad ones where you went under.

Same for student ministry.

I used to have good days and bad days that sent me to highs and lows.

I'm almost at the point where I can say I've had a good decade or a bad one...

So, the fifth thing I learned was stolen from Ma Deb's parenting class: The days are long, but the years are short. And keeping that perspective while the teens are going through their various ups and downs will give you the strength to be in it for the long haul.

Of which I'll continue the piggyback on this tomorrow...

IF YOU THINK this is a worthwhile endeavor. If you'd rather The Diner get back to other stuff, lemme know. I can take it. But if this is too self-indulgent of an exercise I'd want to know now. I'm not into losing customers over a menu change.