Lessons in Student Ministry: Part Three

Find your "go-to" kids...and then get out of the way.

Here's the thing about having a heart for student ministry. It's so easy to want to be "that person." To be the person they run to. To be the person that cares about them. To be the person that they seek out. The one they trust and open up to. The one who knows them better than anyone else does.

If I'm being painfully real...It's easy to want to be the person that saves them.

And over time I've learned that is simply not what student ministry is really about. Because if who they think Jesus is gets confused with who I am, the minute I can't be there, their faith is lost. If their faith is dependent on my presence, I've done more harm than good.

Today was one of the "high" days of my weekly ventures to eat lunch at the middle school. Some days are like that...the kind when it's just win after win and your heart swells and you see God moving and working. But more often than not, those days are the ones where I have intentionally (and hesitantly) chosen to get out of the way.

I walked into the cafeteria today and whispered up a thank you. Every day that I'm greeted with sweet girls running up to me and yelling my name and giving me hugs and fighting over who gets to keep my visitor pass for the rest of the day is another day that I'm thankful for. Because like it or not, a day will very possibly come where my presence is not only anticipated, but expected, and not quite as exciting. One of my little tiniest ones was walking around in a daze looking a little perplexed but when she turned and saw me her whole face brightened up and she ran over and gave me a huge hug, assuring me that she was just fine and must have been lost in thought. I marvel at anyone's immediate reaction to me being what Maddi's was, but I have to remember that it is God working through me that brings that out in them. It's not really me at all.

As they settled in and we started chatting I noticed a kid a few seats down from me sitting completely by himself, just eating his sandwich, no one else even near by. I asked one of the girls who he was. She said his name was Ben and that she had tried to talk to him a couple of times but she was afraid she was just scaring him because he'd get really nervous. She said she felt bad about that so she just stopped talking to him. I tried to explain to her that it probably was a little awkward for him to have a girl just randomly talk to him, especially at his age and then I said, "Why don't we find a guy that can talk to him?" She said, "Oh get Danny. He's the nicest guy in our grade." She quickly got up out of her seat and ran over to a kid standing in line for the microwave and then came back over and said, "He'll be here in a second. I told him you wanted to talk to him."

Poor Danny's 75 seconds in line for the microwave must have felt like an eternity seeing as how he started shifting his weight back and forth and looking over at me every couple of seconds. I don't know why they always think they're in trouble.

When he came over I said, "Here's the deal. I have a mission for you. See that kid behind you? He apparently sits by himself all the time. The girls told me that you're a really nice guy and they thought maybe you'd help that kid out by just checking on him and seeing if he'd like to come over to your lunch table." Danny didn't think for too long before saying, "Okay, well let me go put my burrito down and I'll be back." I honestly didn't know if he'd return. But he did. He went over and sat down next to this kid. They chatted for a few minutes and then Danny got up and walked away.

I assumed things got awkward and the kid had told him he didn't want to move and that was kind of the end of things. Before I knew it though, Danny comes walking back over, burrito in hand, and made himself at home next to this kid and they were eating and chatting. Periodically it looked like things got awkward and quiet, but Danny didn't leave.

That right there is a humbling lesson that I need to learn over and over again. Danny did what I couldn't. Danny connected with this kid because Danny is a boy and Danny is his age. And Danny is what this kid needs. That kid didn't need me. As much as I wanted to go over there and force him to talk to me and find out who he is and what he's all about, I can't be there for him every day. I can't help him feel more comfortable at his school by simply being present for 30 minutes once a week. He needs kids his age to love on him and to help him feel like he belongs.

There are going to be kids like that who my only role in their life is to somehow figure out how to facilitate someone else noticing them.

And then there are other kids like Evan. Evan was sitting by himself today as well, not eating a thing because he apparently "didn't feel like" packing a lunch today. Truthfully I hadn't even noticed him and Claudia said, "Hey, that's my new friend Evan. Will you go with me to talk to him?" So off we went. Evan is a fun kid who just switched schools this year and said he didn't have any friends at his last school and he doesn't have any here. But he opened up to me pretty quickly. After Claudia and I sat down with him he couldn't stop smiling. Evan is one of those kids that I probably won't necessarily "get out of the way" with right away. He seemed to want to talk to me and answer my questions and was excited when I asked him to come talk to me when I'm there next time. For now, with him, it's not about me getting out of the way, but eventually I will.

I'm trying to learn how to recognize those differences. To find my go-to kids like Danny. And to know when to just step back.

With every day that I'm there I love it more. Today before I left I stopped at one of my favorite tables. The kind that have the kids who have a rebellious streak, but only express it in ways like wearing colored shoelaces even though they're not supposed to. And there was Andrew. Andrew is the kind of kid that gives me a hug when he sees me and says things like, "You know we love you right? I just wanted to make sure you knew that." At the end of lunch each table has to be dismissed by one of the principals, one of the teachers, or if they're lucky, the big black security guard that doesn't play around. And today, my sweet little table got the security guard. They were doing well, had cleaned the table and had stopped talking and were looking up at him sweetly with big puppy-dog eyes, all waiting to be dismissed. He looked up and down the table, kid by kid and just as he said, "You may be dis...," Andrew very quietly started singing, "You are my sunshine..." The security guard jerked his head back toward Andrew and said, "Get up! You can sing You Are My Sunshine all the way down to ISS (in-school suspension) young man." Andrew smiled a cute little grin, hopped up, said, "Yes sir" and followed the guard out of the cafeteria.

Seriously? For everyone out there who questions why I do this every week...you can't pay for that kind of entertainment.