When I'm starting something new, I inevitably have that moment of overwhelming anxiety over where/how/when/what to start. Then, that song from "The Sound of Music" pops in my head. You know the one where Julie Andrews teaches the children to sing. Specifically, the part where Julie Andrews sings, "Let's start at the very beginning/ A very good place to start./ When you begin to read you start with A-B-C / When you begin to sing you start with Do-Re-Mi." And for most "somethings new" that I start, I can merely sing that song in my head and move forward, starting with whatever needs to be started first.
But today, I'm in the middle of my fourth week as a youth pastor. I've spent the past year as an intern where I had enough responsibility to feel like I was actually doing something, but not enough responsibility for me to do any serious damage...I hope. But now I'm actually calling the shots. Now I'm in charge- the only one in charge. I am the only student ministries staff member, the only student ministries worker period as I have no volunteers yet, and because the new music director has not yet started and the senior pastor has been on vacation for 2 and a half weeks I am really alone. For the morning hours the church hosts a few members who are in and out doing various "church work," a secretary, and a husband-wife janitor team all of whom generally leave by about noon. Which leaves me, alone, and incredibly uncertain of what to do. The hardest part is that our student ministries program doesn't start until September 20th. Weeks away. So while I've tried to meet as many students as possible after church on Sunday, there is very little I can do to connect with them, aside from stalking them all on facebook by using the Sunday School roster (which I've considered...and started doing...unfortunately none of them are getting back to me). And I feel hesitant to start planning a year of ministry without at least sort of knowing the students I'll be working with. So I just sort of feel...stuck.
Don't get me wrong, I'm earning my keep...or at least trying to. I'm spending my hours reading all those student ministry books I've been collecting, taking notes, recording ideas, making lists of the things I should pray for, making notes on my to do list to pray for all those things, cleaning and organizing my office, imagining what color I would paint the youth room if I could redo it, trying to remember the names of the people I've met, etc., etc. But underlying all of this "work" is a growing anxiety with a dash of excitement and anticipation. The anxiety is looming, gathering power like a summer storm that rolls in deeper and darker with each passing hour until the thunder cracks and the lightning splits. I can feel it as I read the words written by all of these "youth ministry experts," taunting me and fanning the "I'm not equipped/talented/devoted/faithful enough for this job" flames that really are quite strongly burning without any help thank you very much. I can feel it as I sit at my desk helpless and distracted. I can feel it when I get ready for work, already discouraged with a pitiful "to do" list. It makes me feel like a hippo, stuck in the mud, held down by her own massive weight, knowing vaguely that she can move, but not really sure she wants to put forth that much effort to take the first steps.
But there's also the dash of excitement and anticipation. Since I've made this switch to youth ministry my heart has been more and more certain that this is where I want to be. I love students. I love God. Putting those two things together seems too good to be true. In this interim "getting started" period I am also left feeling that within me exists a caged spider monkey. One that should not be caged and should be allowed to run free, flying from tree to tree, doing all things spider monkeys were created to do. And the monkey knows that she's about to be set free soon, so she's pacing, excited to stretch her legs and anticipating the rush of freedom that comes when you do what you were created to do.
And I'm now sitting in the tension of the hippo and the spider monkey. Bouncing my leg with excess energy, yet unwilling to do what comes next. Scared to death and yet bursting with a dangerous amount of passion for Christ. Waiting to figure out which creature wins. Desperate for action but paralyzed by fear. Needing to lean on the One who knows my heart and these wild animals inside of it.
