Dear Jesus, Thank You for Being Their Savior

Dear Jesus,

Chap always told me if I wanted to do youth ministry, I'd better be prepared to have my heart broken. I didn't understand what that meant. I do now. I wasn't prepared for this. Up until now I'd had fun with kids, I'd played games, gave hugs, facilitated small group conversations that didn't usually get too deep or personal, but broken? Nope. Not really. Until now. Jesus, I hurt inside--the deep ache of the weight of brokenness around me. Winter camp this weekend was a blast, so much fun, so much goofing off, and so hard too. Kids open up in ways we don't get to see during regular program times when they're up in the mountains, away from life. That's why we take them to camps. But I've never been on the receiving end of this "opening" before. And I am overwhelmed with the reality that I can't save these precious precious children. You can. I'm not their savior, as much as I want to be, as desperately as I want to snap my fingers and see their pain disappear, I realize I can't. Those perfectly placed smiles cracked this weekend, allowing me to catch glimpses of the depth of pain, confusion, questions, fears, doubts, regrets, and pressure these children feel. For that's what they are. Children. Somewhere along the lines, amidst the hormones, the acne, the sarcasm and attitude, we have forgotten who they are. They're children. Your children. Whom you absolutely long to gather to yourself and hold tight, whispering over and over to them that they are your creation, they are your delight, they are loved, they are forgiven, they are precious! I was hit with the reality that as much as I would do anything to comfort little Lily when she cries, how much more do you feel that for these, for Your children?! I stood there in worship on Sunday morning looking up and down the rows at the faces of the teenagers we'd spent the weekend with, and started weeping--these kids need you, so desperately, and some of them are starting to realize that. And that is such a beautiful thing to get to witness.

I long for them to encounter the freedom you offer. I long for them to see that no matter how many disproving looks they receive from parents over grades lower than an A, you look upon them with joy and delight. I long for them to believe life IS worth living. I wish these young girls understood how beautiful they truly are. I long for them to know they can be confident, strong young women, and that this is beautiful! I long for adults to look at them and not see an annoying, loud, disrespectful person, but rather see a child crying out for love and attention. I ache with desire for them to feel forgiven, to know they don't have to walk around under a mantle of shame and guilt. Jesus, you are their savior. Help me point to you, and help me realize I can't be you. And thank you, Jesus, for being our savior.