Youth ministry is exciting! Between the games, music and energy, it’s an area that allows people of all ages to be involved. Investing in teenagers is something companies, communities and churches invest millions of dollars in every year to ensure the advancement of new ideas and culture. Within this culture, students learn what is cool. They learn how to dress, act, talk and what new devices they need to buy. They also have hardships, fail to meet certain standards, struggle with insecurity, and feel as if they don’t measure up in one way or another. With all these cultural realities, teenagers get lost and lose sight of their purpose.
My heart was torn when I heard of a local church that lost a 12-year-old student to suicide. I didn’t know this boy. I knew his classmates who came to my group, and I knew his youth minister. Many of those close to him shared with me of some of the struggles he faced at school. Combined with peer rejection, there wasn’t much that could be said of his home life either. He felt rejected in every area of his life. He slipped through the cracks and turned to this very tragic end. I walked with my students through the line at the wake and the whole time thought, “How do you prevent this?” I had a mixture of emotions, but I knew this was too serious not to do something.
As much as I don’t like to admit learning curves are difficult, they are. They often are fueled by difficult situations. In many cases, they require us to take a step back and do some serious thinking and praying. In this new season, I found myself in various relationships and building from them. I found myself reevaluating how I prayed, thought, planned and invested in students who clearly were the underdogs. The best place to start was in getting to know them better. From this vantage point, I could start looking for anything that would uncover their potential.
In every group, there are students who need support. Some students stand out like sore thumbs, and you could name the ones in your group without any effort. Others may not speak up; they blend in; or they could be popular. In one of my youth group series, I gave all my students the opportunity to write down the most difficult question they could think of anonymously. One question in particular revealed something surprising. It read: “Everybody thinks I am pretty and smart, but why do I have such a hard time believing this?” This question supports my desire to help students unlock their potential.
An underdog is any student who has untapped potential. They come in all shapes, sizes and social statuses and have a wide range of skills, talents and abilities. They can be obnoxious or cool. Tapping into a student’s potential takes time and patience. More importantly, it takes heart.
At one time, we each were an underdog. We all needed someone to help us unlock the potential locked away in our mental mazes. My journey consisted of an array of people: everyone from teachers, pastors and trusted friends. I needed them to be good listeners, available, patient, wise and authentic. Part of this dynamic came down to the fact that I needed to feel supported. Having their support completely changed how I felt about my shortcomings.
As a response to my epiphany, I started to connect my experiences and tried out my ideas on some of my volunteers. I invested more heavily in my relationships with students. As part of the mission, I challenged my adult leaders to look for their own opportunities to reach the hearts of our students. However, I quickly realized determination alone was not enough. I needed to be strategic and diligent. If there is one word that takes a youth worker from good to great, it’s diligent. Diligence requires learning more about life and hanging onto my credentials. I needed to go above and beyond my job description and see the big picture. The point I came to was that I don’t know where my students are going to be in 10 years, five or one year for that matter. They need my support now.
I started putting together binders full of printed articles, Internet bookmarks, youth worker meetings, and stocking my bookshelves. I wanted the information to be so much a part of me that I didn’t need to reference the books. The information I learned was something I wanted to be ingrained, relevant and authentic. I felt that if I were going to make any difference in their lives, I first needed a difference in my own life.
One afternoon, one family asked me if I could give their son a ride home from church. I didn’t really know this family well, so I was excited to meet with them. My ride to their house was exciting. Middle school students always surprise me, and this guy was full of surprises. He was known for being funny and obnoxious. He was like me when I was his age, so we got along well. During our conversation, something struck me. I felt God was leading me to encourage him in a very mature way.
On our way to his house, I finally gathered the boldness to share with him what I felt God was leading me to share with him. I said, “I know you’re young, but I think you are a leader. I am thankful for you.” He looked at me and said, “Gee; thanks, Joe. I never heard that before.” It was a brief moment in the conversation, but the effect was lasting.
He went on to work hard in high school. He had his share of trouble, but he excelled. He openly revealed his dedication to Jesus in just about everything he did. He went on to be a leader in various sports, went on mission trips, and made a lot of friends. He then decided to join the Marine Corps.
While in the Marines, he faced different situations and aimed to make good decisions. One night, he and I spoke on the phone. He shared with me some of the things in his life and revealed that he still loved God with his entire heart. He was making good choices, and I couldn’t have been more proud of him. Then, he reminded me of the conversation we had years earlier when I’d driven him home that day. He said, “Joe, remember that conversation we had when I was younger? You know the one when you told me I was a leader?” I said, “Yes, of course. I still believe that.” The he said, “I never forgot that.”
I am still impressed with this young man. After hanging up, I realized he wasn’t the only one. I can look back and be excited about all those who had been part of the ministries I have lead. I didn’t just encourage him; there were so many others who’d taken their turns as the underdog. They went into the ministry, military, college, started businesses, and survived cancer. God moved me, and I reminded him that I was once the underdog. I needed someone to believe in me beyond my weaknesses.
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