Youth

About 3 years ago we became friends with the folks who are now our best friends. We laughed and giggled and talked about the challenging things in life as we sat in the basement of our old house and our (mine and Luke's) kids snoozed away upstairs. Often, these friends would talk about their kids.

But the thing was, they didn't have kids. At least none that were legally theirs. In fact, they are actually several years younger than us and the kids they always clamored about were teenagers. Still, when they spoke of their kids they lit up and you could see the adoration in their faces and hear the love in their voices.

And I'll be honest. I didn't get it.

It was beyond me how two grown people could love teenagers so much. But, this was their ministry and they poured their lives into their "kids" who were really the 100ish students who make up our church's Student Ministry.

Over several months of hang out time in our basement, Luke and I saw more and more the passion these people had for their students. But, truthfully, I think we brushed it off a little. I mean, afterall, the guy was the Youth Pastor at our church for crying out loud. He got paid to hang out with teenagers. And his wife? Well, I think she could love a brick wall. She's incredibly compassionate that way.

But over the course of those months, and as we watched their affection for these students continue to grow, Luke and I became curious. I think Luke was interested way before I ever was. I mean, I HATED high school. Like, for serious hated it. I mean, at the time I didn't realize how much I loathed it but looking back, it wasn't my favorite season of life. I'm blessed by the friends I remain in contact with (which are few) but most of the memories I'd rather just push out of my head.

So how could I ever expect to love teenagers? Truth was, I couldn't. I dislike stupid drama, especially as it relates to boys or who-said-what or how "she totally is a backstabbing hussy and I can't believe I was ever her friend" then 5secondslater "ohmuhgod we're Bff's."

Yeah. It wasn't for me.

So, Mr. Youth Pastor casually (read: aggressively and persistently) coaxed us to host an upcoming youth weekend. Our former house was perfect for such an event, where 12-16 teenage girls would spend a Friday & Saturday night at our house, going in and out and doing all the things teenage girls do.

He basically sucker punched me because I think he knew (knows) that Hospitality is my spiritual gift and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE hosting people in our house. So, we said yes. And, we casually said that we'd be willing to give the whole youth department thing a try, beginning with this one discipleship weekend.

(This photo was taken that 1st discipleship weekend.)

Now, almost 3 years later my heart is so incredibly happy and sad. You see, those same students that we hosted for that long discipleship weekend are now some of my greatest friends. Even more, those same girls are all beginning college this week and my heart fills for them and breaks all in the same breath.

Needless to say, we officially became youth workers that weekend. But the truth is, over the last 3 years we've learned more about our God, more about our own walk and more about unconditional love than I ever though possible. And all FROM TEENAGERS. Wonderfully, magnificent, awesome teenagers who I now consider friends.

I know, you're probably asking how a 30 year old woman can be friends with a teenager /20something girl. Lemme just tell you, honestly...I'm not sure how that works. But it does. And nothing brings me greater joy than an evening spent with one of "our kids."

Sure we didn't birth them and legally we've not adopted any but they are still "our kids." And now I get how those friends of ours could sit in our basement and gush over teenagers. Because as our students have grown into amazing young men and women, we've watched them do glorious things for God's glory. We've watched them serve the Lord boldly in foreign countries. Giving up their summers for the glory of God. Not earning one red cent but acting in complete obedience.

We've watched them grow from an overly hyper high school sophomore (who I was going to kill if she drank ANY MORE RED BULL) into a young woman who desperately desires to know the heart of God.

We've seen their hearts get broken. We've stood in the wings and witnessed their victories. We've heard them tell us of their desires to step out of their comfort zones and allow God to provide them courage. We've laughed with them, cried with them, stayed up way too late eating chips and salsa with them. We've gotten in trouble with them. They've loved on our babies in ways that I'll never understand and, in turn, become the biggest heroes in the eyes of our children.
And, they let us act totally stupid and laugh with us rather than standing back and mocking us for the idiots that we really are. (See photos below.)


But most of all, we've grown in our faith with them. The thing that continues to amaze me is that even though they've seen us at our worst, they continue to love us. Unconditionally. We don't deserve the confidences they place in us, we aren't wise or knowledgeable enough for them to trust us with their hopes, dreams and secrets. Yet, they do.

They love us for who we are. Messy house, loud kids, imperfect ways and all. In fact, often when a teenager is here I put them to work, asking them to unload the dishwasher or hold so-and-so. I have no idea why they keep coming back. But they do and they bless me immensely each and every time.

One of my favorite memories of Kevin is when Aaron was just a small baby, maybe 4 months old. One of the big girls had a random puking episode while Kevin was visiting us. We were all gathered in the girls room when either Elizabeth or Ashlee tossed her cookies. I was holding Aaron, about to give him a bottle, and seeing the urgent need for me elsewhere I thrust Aaron into Kevin's arms and said flippantly, "Here. Feed him."

10 or so minutes later I walk into our living room and see Kevin sitting cross legged in the middle of our living room floor, cradling Aaron at about chin level and giving him his bottle. I burst into laughter and said, "Kevin, have you ever held a baby before?"

"No," he said nervously, "never."

To this day I still laugh when I think about the look that must have been on Kevin's face when I shoved Aaron in his arms and walked away. Too bad I was too busy with vomit to take note.

As as I sit here and think about the fact that the students that we just graduated are sitting in college dorm rooms right now, making new friendships and growing into adults my heart is swelling with mixed emotions.

I'm sad because I know that on Sunday mornings, I won't see their faces in my classroom anymore. I won't feel their hugs or see what they've done differently with their hair each week. Most of them won't be gracing my doorstep weekly, sitting at my kitchen table, pushing crumbs across it and avoiding eye contact because they have something serious to discuss. Several of them have moved far enough away that it will be a semester or more before I can embrace them and tell them just how much I've missed them. Truly, I won't be beside them as they walk into new territory and face hurdles that we've been preparing them to leap over.

Yet, excitement rises in my heart for them, knowing that this new life is fun, adventurous and fresh. I know that God has equipped them to live for His glory. I'm so excited to be able to watch them grow and change and mature into people doing God's work.

It's always been easy to love on these teenagers. The loving part is easy. Watching them grow and go...that's been the hardest season yet. How I hope they understand just how much I love them and just how fervently I pray over them.

Finally, as I write this I realize that maybe I never really told them just how much they taught me or how much I love them. But then I remembered. Love like this isn't something that you tell someone about one time. It's something you show them, remind them of and prove to them each time they allow you into their hearts. And I understand that they already know just exactly how I feel about them. I'd give them my right arm or the last peanut M & M. Which means I love them a whole friggin' lot.