There are days when I feel like worst youth pastor in the world

The other day while on a mission trip with my youth, the volunteer coordinator commented on how blessed my kids were to have me since I had a seminary degree.

"You must feel so much more prepared!" she said. 

And as this woman was just about to start to seminary herself, I did not have the heart to tell her that most days, I still have no idea what I'm doing.

Youth Ministry = carrying around sheep?

Because I'm nothing like any youth pastor I've ever had. I'm not very loud or outgoing. I can't be ridiculous on command. I'm not good at "stupid" humor and I can't play the guitar. 

And I let my teenagers wear two-piece bathing suits on our mission trip.

They laughed me the other day because I referenced this other youth pastor I know. "You would like him," I said, "he's a really great youth pastor."

"You make it sound like you're not a great youth pastor!"

I take the the compliment, but inwardly, I know its just because they've never had the loud, extroverted, guitar-playing youth pastor.

At least, I remind myself, they don't know what they're missing.

Because this was not my calling. I could barely handle being around teenagers when I was a teenager. I'm awkward, bookish and don't really like loud things.

But goodness, these youth of mine. They have stolen my little awkward heart.

And so now I spend days planning, thinking of crazy youth games, writing lesson plans, praying and worrying.

Oh goodness, how I worry. 

Because I know that being teenager can be so hard and scary and unfair. And I know the chances are good that 50% of my youth group will walk away from the church when they leave home and not look back.

And so I keep working.

Because I want them to know that that this Christianity thing, it isn't about whether or not you wear a two piece to the beach. That God has called them by name and made them beautiful, all of them and that they should never be ashamed of who they are. I want them to know that Christianity, it's not about a list of rules, but rather living into the truth that they are children of God. I want them to know that Jesus will always go with them, no matter where they go and they don't need to be afraid.

I want them to know that Christianity is not about never having questions. I want them to know the questions are okay, that God is big enough to handle them.  And that while I certainly do not have all the answers, that I will help them wrestle with those questions for as long as they need me.

I want them to know that sometimes being a part of the Church is hard work. That church people sometimes really (really) suck. But that there is something unmistakably beautiful in the Body of Christ and that it needs them, my loud, hilarious, loving youth. Because there is work to be done for the Kingdom. 

I want them to know that God loves them. That the Church loves them, even when its awkward and doesn't know quite how to show it.

And that I love them, even though I'm awkward.

And that despite the fear that I have no clue what I'm doing, I promise I'll keep trying to figure it out.