Movin' on up.

Tonight marked a significant ending for me.

As I have mentioned before in my blog, I was previously a minister. My degree is in ministry and up until about two years ago, it was also my "profession." My first job in ministry was as a youth minister and although my attendance at church is pretty meager these days, I still volunteer in the Jr. High Ministry of my church. If you know me well, you know the problems I have with the American church today. But foundationally, my faith is strong and my heart is pulled towards teenagers - their struggles, their growth, their lovable spirits.

As a youth minister, I was involved in a ministry of 900 Jr. High students - it was huge! Along with weekend services, we also placed those who were interested into small groups that meet in an adult leader's home every week. So for the last two years, I've had the same 11 girls meet in my home every Tuesday night. One of these girls is my own 14 year old daughter. My co-leader for this group is an amazing 19 year old girl named Sara, who was in my group when she was 12 years old. I am blessed that she has chosen to remain in my life all of these years, and I know she always will be. Over the years, I've had several of these groups, each lasting their two years of Jr. High, but none that has affected me quite like this one.


This month they are all "graduating" from 8th grade, moving into high school, and onto a new small group leader next year. I was not prepared for the overwhelming sadness that I would feel in letting these girls go. We've grown to love each other incredibly. To trust each other implicitly, because everything said in the confines of our group is treated as sacred. We came from all walks of life, some were popular, some were nerds, some were jocks. When we all came together, most of the girls had nothing in common. But as time went on, they became the friendly face to each other at school, supporting each other outside of our group. Their differences melted away. We had slumber parties together, water fights, pillow fights, we all cried over one of us being hurt, we went to summer camp together, we fed the homeless together, adopted disabled children for Christmas, and grew up together in the two years we had. We have a national champion synchronized swimmer, a Student of the Year, and one of them even survived two brain surgeries in the last year. We went to each other's basketball games, music recitals, awards banquets, and no one in our group ever felt like she was going through anything alone.

It was supposed to be a Bible study every week, but I can count on one hand how many of those we actually accomplished this year. I felt pretty strongly that I needed to prepare them for high school in ways that they wouldn't learn in church. Not just how to make good choices, but how to grow into the young women they were capable of being. How to dream big and realize those dreams. How to maintain their confidence in a world that is not always kind. I tried to show them how awesome they are and build up their self-esteem, because that's what will keep them from making unhealthy choices in the future. I loved them unconditionally, and they returned that love exponentially. One gave me a card that said, "Over the last two years, I have become a stronger person. I can honestly say that's because of you. You have taught us to stand up for what we believe in."
Wow. I am humbled.

Tonight, our last night, I had them each write their own obituary. At first they thought it was creepy until they realized the possibilities! They had to live to a minimum of 90 years old, and write it in the third person, telling about their life, loves, accomplishments, etc. How would they want to be remembered when they leave this earth? They worked very hard on them, and believe me, it's not easy to get that many screaming teenagers quiet for very long, but this did it. Afterward, I asked if I could read one or two of them, and every single girl wanted me to read hers. I had a few stay at home moms, several teachers, a physical therapist, an airforce pilot, a missionary and a Nobel Peace Prize Winner. One even named her daughter Steph. Most importantly, they realized that their possibilities are only limited by their dreams, and they are dreaming big!

I don't know what to do with the incredible sadness and loss that I feel tonight over letting these girls go. I can only be thankful that their futures are bright.

I do know that when I go to bed tonight, I will thank God for the opportunity to have played some small part in these incredible girls' lives, and consider it a privilege to know every one of them.