A Well-kept Secret

Several things come to mind:
The public park and beach off the Beltline, behind Blue Water Grill...the enormous paintings displayed on the underside of the State St bridge in Chicago...Golden Gardens in Seattle...the fun of teaching your 4yr old how to write, address, and mail a letter--and walking half a mile just to use the big, blue mailbox...Target brand coffee (recently discovered, comparable to Bucks)...about 90% of the "hidden Mickeys" at Walt Disney World...the wine enthusiast/expert who works at the Cascade Meijer...oh, and the entire city of Portland, Maine.

And also?
Youth Ministry. Being a youth leader...or, more specifically, being one at Westminster Presbyterian Church.

Now, before I go on, I must acknowledge the fact that, for me, even writing the word ministry in my own blog is a bit out of the ordinary for me. Anyone who knows me well at all knows that, while I go to church regularly and am dedicated to our group of high schoolers, I'm not exactly someone you'd call "religious". Spiritual? Yes.
But there's a difference.

And as tempting as it is for me to expound upon my feelings regarding said difference...for now, I shall refrain. But there's a good chance it'll pop up at some point in the future, I just have a hunch.

So where was I...yes, Youth Ministry. Ministering to youth...and all the churchy-ness it involves. This is where I'll mention, as yet another side note, how unique our church is...not once has it ever felt "churchy". And not that this would be bad, per se, but for me--and the many kids I've worked with, as well as the community of friends we have there--it's key. I'll also add (and this will be my last disclaimer...it's my blog, after all) that my feelings about my own church do not reflect any kind of arrogant certitude about the rights and wrongs of particular denominations, styles of worship, etc. It's hard enough to even mention church in today's society without invoking the kinds of images that are so far removed from the average individual experience. All I know is that I'm happy at my church. Happy to be able to think the way I do about the world and religion in general and still be welcome.
And involved.

I suppose this is where the irony--or secret priveledge--of it all comes into play. Most of the time, volunteer work (or service work of any kind) is something we do to help the situations of others. We pick and choose what ways to get involved based upon our own interests or skills, yes, but in the end--it's about making a difference.
Right?
That whole thing about "our greatest passion intersecting with the needs of the world"...this is what it's all about, no?

While I do agree with this sentiment--that being emotionally committed to a cause is important, that it enhances your ability to carry out the job...I feel like there are times when a few other things are true as well:
1. Putting yourself in situations that don't necessarily align with your own sensibilities or ways of seeing the world aren't always bad. They can challenge you, and you're often better for them in the end. The door shouldn't close at opportunities that just feel right from the start.
2. But also...also...and this just needs to be said, I'm afraid. Volunteer work is selfish. It's self-serving in the way it builds us up and makes us proud. Pure self-indulgence, to be sure. People who do the Peace Core, my brother who went to Africa, friends I know who tutor inner-city kids...all of them are feeding a need deep inside to feel better about themselves.
But that doesn't make them wrong. Nor does it negate the good that it does.
Not for a second.

I just think it's important to recognize who's really making the difference. And most often it's not the one doing the actual "work", but rather the one being helped.

Yesterday, minutes after pulling in the driveway from our long trek home, I was pulling weeds out front while the boys played. My neighbor was out front and began chatting with me...inquiring about where we'd been, for how long, how many hours in the car, etc. We chatted about the different ways of entertaining kids in the car, the inevitable meltdowns, junk food, you name it. And then he asked "what was in North Carolina" and I told him it was a church youth group trip.

He just gave me this "wow, better you than me" expression and said "You guys must be ready for a real vacation now, huh?!"
It was a fair thing to say.
We were/are tired. Our kids were put through a lot of change...day camps in a new place, with new faces...late bedtimes, early mornings...hot weather, unfamiliar beds, constant shuttling from one activity to the next (that usually meant being away from us)...and perhaps most devastating of all--not having the food they were used to having. And Brian and I went through a lot, as well. Physically, emotionally, you name it. But if I'm being honest--and I say this without an ounce of pretention, truly--it wasn't work. Not service work, not volunteer work--though, yes, we elected to go without force or pay...but no, it wasn't that kind of a week.

What it was...what it ended up being, was one of the greatest gifts we could've imagined. A gift to our kids (who, despite being tired and grumpy without their "Tommy yogurts", had the time of their lives), a gift to our own sanity (the setting alone did wonders), a gift to our marriage, and above all else--a boon to our faith. Yes, our faith.
Brian, who grew up in parochial school and studied the Bible alongside history, math, science and all other courses...is only now claiming to feel a sense of personal involvement and accountability.
And for me...well, I guess you could just say I've softened, become less militant about my "non-religious" religious side.:)

And you know what?
All of this happened in the presence of teenagers. Messy, loud, idealistic, self-absorbed (though rightfully so--it's biological, for crying out loud), awkward, insecure, emotional high schoolers. Time after time, I feel like I need to explain why Brian and I work with these kids. I'm sure anyone who teaches middle or high school, or works in any way with kids this age feels the same kind of thing. It's as though you must have some type of pre-existing condition that requires you to spend time with teenagers. Nevermind the possibility that you'd do it on purpose.
That you might want to be around them.

It surprises me, really. As a culture we are forever obsessed with the lives of teenagers--what they're doing right and what they're doing wrong (though I'd argue too much attention is placed on what they're doing wrong), what music they're listening to, what clothes they're wearing, etc. We even flock to movies that glorify, without the slightest hint of accuracy I'll add, the drama of their daily lives and attempt to make us all long for the days when we felt as invincible and carefree.
And sarcastically, we adults roll our eyes at teen culture...at the "drama" of it all. I'm implicating myself here, too. As recently as last week I gave a serious eye roll in the direction of one particular youth group kid, and definitely had my moments where I wanted to scream "C'mon!!! It's not ALL about you!"...but the irony of it all has never been lost on me. What I'm referring to is the high school model. The template. It's all around us, and always will be...in everything we do as adults: work, relationships, all of it. We may be a bit more self-assured---but not always. And as ridiculous as ever--some of us still compete as though we're still walking the halls to gym class.
It doesn't make us wrong...no, I don't think it does. But it would just be a whole lot easier if we could cop to it now and then. And at the very least, try not to villainize the teen population so much.

Because what people often don't realize is what stands to be gained by being around these kids. It really is one of the best-kept secrets around--and one of the surest ways to humble yourself. And you have to be careful, because it's not always easy. Striking that proper balance between friend and mentor can be tricky...and while it might take some getting used to, it's essential. Too much of a friend, and you lose credibility...not to mention the fact that you likely have issues of your own to work out. And too much of a mentor, and you risk not being relevant. Not being able to connect. It can be tough. Partly because it's such a fine line...but mostly because there's no greater fraud-detector than a teenager.

Needless to say, I'm a fan. I love these kids...and most importantly, I love watching them grow. I am 100% addicted to their energy, optimism, uncommon insight, wisdom, openness, sheer naivete and vulnerability. All of it. Their flaws and imperfections are humbling, while their maturity can be downright staggering. And I've found that what they seem to need from me...what they need the most...is not only the easiest thing for me to give, but is somehow linked to what I need as well. It's not a secret, really...it's actually pretty simple stuff. Being a good listener--and I mean really a good listener, the selfless kind. Being honest--and I mean really being honest, without agenda, but also with compassion.
And knowing how to love properly. Sounds ridiculous, but it's true. Because you can't love each kid the same...nor can you anyone in your life. Knowing what that person needs in order to feel loved is what it's all about.
Yet as much as I feel as though I've learned these important truths...I am, without a doubt, still learning.

I guess that's why I keep going back, why I keep throwing myself into the weeds. Because as much as I'd like to be able to say I'm "serving a cause" and making a difference with teenagers...what I know, what I am beyond convinced of, is that they are the ones making a difference with me.