Tonight was one of those nights with middle schoolers that I
actually brought on myself because I served them soda someone had donated (if
only they would donate caffeine free organic chamomile tea, right?) and allowed
them to eat the oreos they found at the end of the scavenger hunt. Then, inspired by the family dinners at
Covecrest, I put out some big paper for them to doodle on during dinner. In hindsight, the combination of caffeine +
frosting + magic markers was a bit much.
This resulted in no “discussion” time where deep thoughts
were shared and insights into the Christian life were gained. No, this was a night where I had to actually
say, “there is nothing funny about Hitler jokes” and assure a seventh grader
that Mark Hart—the guy on the video leading bible study-- was not one of the
guys in “Hangover 2”. One of those
nights when lots of words were being said but very little conversation actually
occurring.
It was during one of those monologues that a newer student
said quietly, “I’m just still trying to figure out how I’m supposed to be here”
and I snapped back, “a good way to do that is talk less and listen more”. Then I tried to, again, reign the
conversation back around to the point about keeping holy the Sabbath that I was
trying to make.
It was only an hour later, when they had gone home and I was
scraping oreo frosting and frayed nerves off the floor that I realized I had
totally failed.
See, middle school youth ministry will make you mental, but
it’s also truly a gifted moment to be present in these kid’s lives. They ARE figuring out how they’re supposed to
be. Not just at youth group but
everywhere. Church, school, family,
volleyball… You name it, in every area
they are in a state of becoming.
Tonight, I missed my opportunity and focused too much on trying to
control the chaos and too little on the doors the kiddos were opening with
their questions.
Should middle schoolers be allowed to interrupt or make
Hitler jokes? No. But do they know that yet? Maybe not.
I forget that for some kiddos, this is the first time they’ve sat at a
table of peers and adults and been invited to simply share what’s on their mind
and heart. It’s going to take them some
time to learn what’s appropriate and not appropriate to say and do.
Meanwhile, I need to be patient while they figure out how
they’re supposed to be—correcting when necessary but encouraging in excess,
realizing that these small moments are a small part of the foundation of who
they will be as mature Catholics.
I also need to portion those oreos.
