Each year for the last 3, I have devoted a significant chunk of my alotted vacation time to work with my youth group. For the prior two years, this was comprised of two events: a week at summer camp and 2-3 weekdays at the National Youth Workers convention. This year, I decided it was time for something different. Rather than attending the NYWC, I decided I was overdue to attend the youth summer service project that our youth attended. Instead of 4-5 days of worshipping and workshopping with several thousand adult youth workers, I spent 3.5 days working in 100 degree heat in Macon repainting a house, with a team made up exclusively of middle schoolers. No regrets. It rocked. I’ll be doing it again this year, God willing.That’s not really the point, however. The point is this: I spent some time at this event (It’s called River Of Life) greiving the separation I knew was soon to come between me and this incredible group of youth and counselors (I knew I was leaving to become a youth minister elsewhere, the youth didn’t). I’m coming to the point now. One night at worship I was watching the completely unrestrained worship of these youth, thinking to myself, “I’m really going to miss being a part of this incredible group of kids”. It was then that the truth came into my head in as close to an audible voice as I have ever heard: “If you are faithful to Me, I will build such a group through you.” I actually lost my balance for a moment and had to grab a chair. When I was done being awe-struck, I wiped my eyes. This was not the sort of thing I had experienced before.
I can’t tell you that I’ve had an unbroken chain of days during which I have believed in what I heard/experienced. The last few months have been hard. Our new church has been rocked by a tragic loss none of us expected. That loss has brought a series of challenges for which I was unprepared. I’ve had nights where I couldn’t help but wonder if I was where I was supposed to be. But here’s the deal: I AM where I am supposed to be. On the nights of youth where I stink up the joint, and on the nights when God’s hands and God’s words are using a flawed vessel to get the job done, I am where I am supposed to be.
Occassionally, God sees that my mustard seed faith is tossing about in the wind and gives me the encouragement I need. Sunday night, our new pastor attended youth for the first time. I was wondering what he would think of my small group of kids that didn’t really participate in group discussions. I had picked this week to set aside packaged curriculum in favor of a more “small group” style lesson. I prepared a talk, some notes, and some questions based on a section of Romans 1. My previously unresponsive group of core kids embraced it in a way I never expected. They were responding to hard questions with awesome, insightful answers. One minute, we were eating baby food (in what I think was one of my best game adaptations to date) and the next we were talking in a real way about why people fear or deny God. Was it my prep work? No. Was it the baby food? No. Was it God reminding me that if we are faithful, He will use us to His purpose? Absolutely.
