Gathering Reflections

Hello, friends. I'm writing to you from somewhere in Iowa. I'm on a bus with a crowd of teenagers with endless energy, even after they spent over a week in Minneapolis for the National Youth Gathering. "Bumblebee" is playing on the TV. My youth are sitting near me, telling terrible jokes. Here's one:

Why was the Mexican food silent?
Because it didn't want to tacobout it!

This week was a completely different experience than the last Gathering three years ago, even though almost half of my group was the same. We weren't as cohesive as my last group. We hadn't spent nearly as much time together before the trip, something I made a priority the last time. There were a lot more arguments the first few days, a lot more complaints and anxiety. A lot of that anxiety came from me, though I kept it mostly internal. I was constantly looking at what was happening and thinking to myself about how I could have done it better if I was better.

Oddly, it took two of my youth not feeling well to make me feel better. On two consecutive days, they came to me and told me they weren't feeling well. I dropped everything and took the afternoon each day to spend time with them one-on-one, finding quiet places to sit and help them calm down, drink water, and feel better. I listened to them. I made them laugh. I distracted them from the irritation and pain. They both tried apologizing, saying they felt bad that I had to babysit them, and I repeatedly assured them that not only was this my job, it didn't bother me in the slightest. I was happy to help them.

These experiences made me realize that even when I'm personally struggling with challenges in my life and faith, I can still be Jesus to those around me. When I am called upon, I respond. Sometimes I do it better than others, but that's always true. I love my youth, and when they need me, I'm there. No matter what.

If there comes a time, sooner or later, that I'm no longer at Redeemer, I'll miss these maniac teenagers like nobody's business. But I'll be able to leave them in peace, knowing two things: I have made a difference, and they won't be alone. They'll have their real, present God with them always. Just like I will.