I've written before about our ministry of walking through the darkness with our youth, or as we sometimes refer to it "place-sharing".This is, in my mind, what makes The Door Youth Centre an exciting and a slightly terrifying place all at the same time. This weekend was another one of "those" weekends, where it seemed like everyone who came through our doors had something weighing heavy on their minds and hearts.
There's one guy that we've been working with for at least three years now. He's a pretty cool guy, loves taking photos, and enjoys subjecting others to the "stupid test" on his ipod. Our relationship with him started when he was just entering high school, and we've walked with him through most of his life since then. The past year hasn't been easy on our friend. Things at home aren't always going well, and he holds a lot of resentment towards his single mom and sister. He's got an on again off again relationship with a girl (it's off again) that has been going on for a lot longer than most relationships but has moments of deep love and concern as well as those of conflict. In the past six months, we've seen this easy going kid begin to deal with addiction in his life, withdrawl from his peers, growing distance in our once close relationship, and a growing darkness in his whole being. This once bright light is now dimmed by anger, and hopelessness.
This weekend, his disposition and an incident that he had with another of our youth made me angry. I was angry at this young man for about thirty seconds, thinking "How the heck could he treat someone that he cares about this way? Why is he doing this?", and feeling confused and lost about how we could reach out to him. But very quickly my anger towards him changed, and I became angry at the people or circumstances that have caused him to react this way.
This is a young man with great potential. He didn't have great potential and lose it, he still has it. In our work with him from this point, we will be relying on God's leading to help draw some of those strengths out of him so that he can cope without substances, without cutting himself, without pushing those who care about him away - or whatever his deal may be. We know that God is able to redeem all of the dark areas in his life, even when we feel confused about why a young person has walked away. This is why we need people to come alongside youth at The Door, because working this stuff out alone is difficult alone. We all need somebody, and while we may be on a journey with this young guy for a good long while, we will always be here when he needs us. It's there...somewhere.
I remember in college doing a group assignment for a course in Group Dynamics. Each week our small group of four had to meet, and while working on a project, had to assess the dynamics our group was experiencing. The first week that we met, one of our group members said very frankly, "I will build friendships with all of you, but don't ever call them relationships. Friendships are fine, but to me, relationships mean something more." Most of us were thrown off a little by his admission, but we complied. In the end our group ended up demonstrating more dysfunctional dynamics than we'd hoped, likely because we were all at arm's length from one another.
Recently, I've been thinking a lot about relationships. Particularly as we have walked with our youth through some very dark times. There are points where we think, "This is too hard! It's so much easier to walk away, or simply be with the kids who have it 'together'." I've been reading Andrew Root lately. I saw him at a conference a couple of weeks ago, and his expertise is true relational ministry*. He examines the difference between building relationships for the sole purpose of leveraging influence (i.e. I will build a relationship with Joe so I can influence him to make a decision for Christ), versus building relationships for "place-sharing", that is, entering into the depths of suffering and humanity, to really be human together. I have found that he summed up what I was already thinking. He talks about a ministry he was a part of, and driving home with fellow youth workers. No one said a word because they were so exhausted from ministry; they had not expected the youth to insult them and push them away. Sometimes, we feel like that.
This should put to rest anyone who feels that the ministry of The Door is to take advantage of youth when they are vulnerable by coercing them into a relationship with Jesus. Instead, we stick with them through the dark parts, because we believe that they should not have to go through them alone. When we send them home week after week for breaking the code of conduct, we welcome them back the following week, and we talk about their decisions, behaviour, and consequences rather than putting it under the rug. Recently, we've been dealing with a couple of young men (the term 'trying' would barely be adequate), who seem to be purposefully looking for buttons to push every week. We try to be consistent in our discipline and expectations, and continue to plug through. Sometimes they shock us with great insight in the middle of a discussion, when it appears that they have been sleeping or distracted the whole time. At the end of the day, we pray that by sticking with them we are truly living incarnationally. We are being human together, and despite their behaviour, we are committed to walking along with them. Root puts forth the challenge to actually live an incarnational life, rather than use it as just a good ministry model (which I've been guilty of).
I would not be where I am today if it hadn't been for people who cared enough to stick through my messy bits and live out Jesus in my life. I may have appeared earlier as though I don't care about proclaiming Jesus to our youth, that is not the case, I just want Jesus to be a part of their reality, not a bandaid solution. That happens in our darkness, when the light shines through. Keith Green sang about when God's love broke through. There are few better descriptions of God's transformation in life. Getting there, slogging through the mud, is never something we should have to do alone.
*If you are in youth ministry, I'd highly recommend his books Revisiting Relational Youth Ministry,
and Relationships Unfiltered.
We have a saying around the centre that goes, "Save the drama for your mama". We use it sometimes when tensions are rising because tiredness and circumstances edge life's problems from speed bumps to impassable mountains. This week has been a very dramatic week.
These are the weeks that are emotionally exhausting, as youth after youth have called us with issues that they can't seem to face. Some just need someone to listen. This week, many needed a solution. We talk often about hope, and this is pretty much the polar opposite of hope. The weeks where we see and hear despair in the lives and voices of our teens are the weeks where "save the drama for your mama" just doesn't cut it. Instead, the drama requires a patience that is beyond what any of us have to step into the mud, and get a little bit messy. It's never black and white, always heavy to carry, and often doesn't work out in the clean way we feel it should.
Inevitably, somewhere in the course of our discourse and Facebook chats with our youth, we are again reminded about the drama in our own lives, and what little we can really do for our youth. We can give our best efforts, but our own brokenness often limits us in our attempt.
But I think it can be redeemed.
In our brokenness we join our youth on the trail. We join every other human on the trail, because we are all broken, and sometimes don't know what to do. In understanding our brokenness, we also come face to face with our need for God, Who (this still astounds me), meets us right there, dirty and smelly as we are. In one of my favorite books, Messy Spirituality, Mike Yaconelli writes,
"Spirituality is not a formula; it is not a test. It is a relationship. Spirituality is not about competency; it is about intimacy. Spirituality is not about perfection; it is about connection. The way of the spiritual life begins where we are now in the mess of our lives. Accepting the reality of our broken, flawed lives is the beginning of spirituality not because the spiritual life will remove our flaws but because we let go of seeking perfection and, instead, seek God, the one who is present in the tangledness of our lives. Spirituality is not about being fixed; it is about God’s being present in the mess of our unfixedness."
And there it is, that beautiful moment, where in the midst of chaos, and breakups, and fights, and missed classes, that moment where we may not have all of the answers but we sure wouldn't want to be anywhere else to deal with it. Sometimes it is uncomfortable to get here, but if it weren't for the moments of despair, real or imagined, I think it would be hard to appreciate the incredible grace of God. So we hope, that after a good night's sleep and some time to withdraw from the crisis that never seem to stop this week, that in allowing our youth to be broken and in the admission of our own brokenness, that we can demonstrate a love that never leaves. It is certainly a love that can only belong to God, because it is so far beyond what we are able to demonstrate. And we remember what a privilege it is to be allowed into these worlds, as confusing and messy as they are, I don't know we'd want to be anywhere else.
I've written before about our ministry of walking through the darkness with our youth, or as we sometimes refer to it "place-sharing".This is, in my mind, what makes The Door Youth Centre an exciting and a slightly terrifying place all at the same time. This weekend was another one of "those" weekends, where it seemed like everyone who came through our doors had something weighing heavy on their minds and hearts.
