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Carrying Our Baggage: Healing Ourselves before Healing Our Kids

You know that phrase "You're the only Jesus that some people will ever see?" I take a good, long look in the mirror and I think, "That's the most frightening thing I've ever heard."

Would Jesus wear a Larry the Cucumber shirt? Would Jesus wear the high-top, red Converse All-Stars? Look around your office. Go ahead; look around your office, why don't you? Would Jesus work here?

What's most frightening about youth workers is that they let us work with youth! Sure, nobody else wants to do it, but have you looked at what's walking around at youth worker conventions? Does that not scare the heck out of you?

What makes us scary (and often effective) as youth workers is that we relate well to teens. (How many times have you been told that you're good with the teens because you act like one?) Maybe it's not that we act like teenagers; we just carry the same baggage. We carry it with us everywhere. We stash it out of sight for meetings but pick it up when we leave.

Open the Baggage

You have some. Let's open it up, shall we? Here's one right here. "No, this isn't mine. Really. One of you must have left it behind at the last convention."

(Sound FX) Latches being popped open.

(Sound FX) Horrendous gas erupts from the bowels of the suitcase.

Well, let's see here. There's a rather large collection of beer bottles and cans. Look. They're dated. Hmmm, not all of these are from college, are they?

There are a few shoplifted items.

There's a picture of that person who never, ever, ever went out with you. Then again, you never asked, did you? Just admired from afar.

Just admired from afar. Oh! look at this. Remember him? That hurt, didn't it? Day in and day out, he never stopped.

Oooo, remember this? You brought this on a mission trip with your old high school youth group. Nice, huh? Lucky you didn't get caught with that one.

See this? We have to scrape it away from the lining. Icky. Remember when Dad said that? Remember when Mom told you that thing she said she never told you? That's what leaves this icky stain.

Wow, you've got a lot of self-doubt in here. Some of it's pretty fresh. Some of it still hasn't hit the expiration date. No wonder you hide it. What would your teenagers say if they saw you had doubt too?

Ooooo! Nice collection of missed opportunities. Look at all you could've had without youth work.

See that? That strange stuff is called money.

(Sound FX) lid closing.

I could tell you that you don't have to carry this around, but you knew that. We tell our students that. Maybe it's not the fact that we're crazy that makes us youth workers. Maybe it's the fact that we're broken and crazy.

Maybe it's the fact that we still have our baggage that makes us able to relate.

From a Hole...

This column's title, "From a Hole in the Roof," comes from the story in the New Testament. Four men bring a sick friend to Jesus. Unable to get in the door, they rip a hole in the roof and lower their friend on a mat. Jesus heals the man. The Bible says he got up and walked. I have a feeling he danced. I've often thought the four men on the roof were probably youth workers. The one on the mat was, more than likely, a teenager.

The hole in the roof becomes a very real notion for most youth workers. In brokenness we find healing. Peering through the hole we've ripped, we see the miracle.

We see our charges hurting, sick, and paralyzed by the world around them. We look to our own brokenness. We look through the hole we made when we were teenagers, and through that we get to introduce our students to Jesus.

The secret is to get out of the way. The men on the roof didn't cure their friend. They brought him to the feet of the one who could. You just might have to put your own bag down to help carry the mat. Stash it under your desk or behind the couch in the youth room. You can always get it later.