The Darkness is Winning

“The Darkness is winning.” That's what I said the other day when this guy asked me how I was doing.

I haven't hidden the fact that I've had struggles with depression and anxiety. They're part of my story, and people who know me well, or who have known me for a while typically know this about me. I guess I also don't exactly advertise this information, but, you know, I haven't hidden it either.

When I do talk about it, I typically talk about it as something from my past, or I talk about “healing.” Now, when I say “healing,” I don't mean that I was magically zapped and I literally don't experience it at all. What I do mean is that I've moved from being compelled to listen to the voice that tells me I'm worthless to being able to hear that voice and with some degree of confidence announce to myself that it's lying. Here's the thing—it's not that the voice goes away completely, but I can go a long time and not hear it at all.

Some people still don't know what to do with this in a Christian context. Some people are so callous as to accuse you of lack of faith if you even experience something like this. Most people just seem to shoot for vaguely comforting, but they're not quite sure what to do with it.

I just went through a period of about five days in which my depression and anxiety were both cranked up to levels I haven't experienced in a long time.

Here are some observations from my experience that I'm hoping will be helpful, whether you're experiencing some of this for yourself, or if you're trying to figure out how to be supportive for someone else--

There aren't always triggers, or at least we may not know what they are. For many adults who deal with these issues, we've actually learned to prepare for many of the triggers that we can predict. The reality is that there are times that it just happens. If you experience this, it's okay. You're not alone. You don't have to be able to explain it to anyone else. If you want to support someone, acknowledge their experience without necessarily asking them to justify it.

I get that my thinking isn't exactly right when I experience this. The problem is that it makes complete sense to me while I'm experiencing it. In the midst of it, you probably can't logic me out of it.

What were the most supportive things I experienced? Honestly, the best people during this experience were those who let me know they were there for me, and then pretty much acted like themselves. Here's the thing—If you express support, I can't always respond to it in a way that will make sense to you. You may even feel helpless in not knowing what to do. Seriously, though, if you express support, let me know you're there, this is a huge deal. For people who deal with depression, one of the lies that the internal monologue tells us is that no one cares. You can actually fight this in a way we can't when we experience this. Tell us you care. This fights the darkness. Even if you don't see a change in our demeanor or we can't express appreciation, or we don't take you up on your offer for a coffee or a meal or a chat, you're helping us win.

If you're dealing with this, make up your mind—on one of your good days—to make sure there's always somebody, even if it's just one person, that you can tell what's happening. When it's a bad day, you won't be able to make the decision at that point. For me, I have one person in the two major contexts in which I spend much of my time—one at church and one at work. These don't have to necessarily be super close friends. They just need to be safe people who can have a plan to help.

Because this time came on without a trigger, I didn't have many of my coping skills at the ready. However, I had one tool left—I had to tell someone. Bringing somebody else inside helps fight the darkness when we can't anymore. The guy I talked to didn't have an over the top reaction. He asked me some straightforward questions, he prayed with me, and he set me on a path to connecting with someone else to help.

What's crazy is the weird stuff we experience as we begin to come out of this. I actually felt a bit guilty about who I talked to. Not in the way you think. I didn't have a problem talking with him, and I don't think he had a problem processing any of what I shared. I started second guessing myself wondering about other people I've had close relationships with, and wondering if they'd somehow feel hurt that I didn't go to them. I've gone back and forth wondering who should know the detailed version of my experience.

Here's the deal—If you're looking to support someone with this struggle, recognize that if the person doesn't choose to share with you, it may be out of a sense of trying to protect you. I'm not necessarily saying that's the best decision, but I'm saying you shouldn't treat this situation as somehow being a rejection of your friendship or support.

(Frankly, everybody around me may in fact be pretty supportive, and the fact that I'm addressing this issue may be a sign that I'm still not thinking all that clearly.)

You may be reading this and thinking, “Isn't this supposed to be a blog about discipleship? Why is this dude talking so much about his own issues?”

Reason #1—I've been accused of sharing posts that are entirely too long on Facebook, so a blog entry seemed like a somewhat more appropriate medium.

Reason #2—If you're in student ministry, or you lead an adult small group, statistically, somebody you do ministry with has this experience. I'm hoping my experience will give you something to work with, that it will help you support the people you love.

We're in this thing called life together. We can't do it on our own. Even a cursory reading of the Bible will show a consistent communal aspect to the spiritual life of ancient Jews and early Christians.

The Apostle Paul, a Jewish extremist who basically hunted down Christians before he became one himself, talks about a “thorn in the flesh” that tormented him. There is no scholarly consensus on what this means. Did Paul have a physical ailment that put him in agony? Did he have desires that weren't pleasing to God that he couldn't quite get rid of? Did he deal with something like depression? At the end of the day, we don't know. When he asked God to take this thing away, whatever it was, God's response wasn't to get rid of it. God's response was to let Paul know that God's grace is enough, because God's strength shows up in human weakness. Paul takes this idea and runs with it, basically saying he wants to see God at work, so he's going to put his own weaknesses right up front, in order to more fully experience living in God's strength.

This same guy, Paul, says that Christians aren't meant to function on their own. Instead, even though we all have different experiences, different skills, and different gifts, that we're meant to function together. It's actually God's design to bring these diverse people with diverse gifts together—because we need each other. Paul says we actually function like the parts of a human body—when one part is in pain, it affects the whole body.

I hope my experience in dealing with this can benefit you, whether you're struggling with the same things I've been dealing with or you're trying to figure out how to support somebody.

Be Cool, Man. . .

We can use the word “cool” in so many different ways. As someone who was a social outcast and occasional victim of bullying, I find that it's easy for me to use “cool” in a negative sense. “Cool” refers to the people who seem to have it all, run things socially, and reject the weird kids—kids like me.

I use “cool” in a somewhat neutral sense to mean people a bit like the first group, but they're basically nice people. The still seem to have it all—they're good-looking, popular, athletic, talented, and have a fair bit of social power, but they're not bullies. They don't reject the weird kids, and they may be genuinely nice people. However, for the social outcasts, it's still hard to connect with these guys just because their experience of life is so very different.

In a more positive sense, “cool” people are people who are likeable, fun, and nerdy about some of the same things that I'm nerdy about.

Why talk about the concept of “cool” when addressing discipleship? Let me reveal a little secret to you about working in youth ministry. In a youth ministry context, we still pre-judge kids based on our understanding of “cool.” Some adult youth workers really connect with the popular movers and shakers among the kids. For someone like me, it's actually more difficult to connect with those kids, because I tend to see them as I saw the kids who rejected and bullied me when I was a kid. I connect much more with kids who are often a bit on the outside socially, or who obsess over their quirky nerdy hobby. Sometimes these kids are more difficult for a lot of youth workers to connect with. Either way, we make assumptions about which kids we'll be able to connect with.

Here's the kicker—Our assumptions about what makes a middle schooler or high schooler “cool” are often so far removed from what their peers think that we have to take a step back and be slow to judge.

There are some kids I've recently connected with that have caused me to re-think my own views of what constitutes “cool” among some of the students I know. There's this one guy who came across as confident and seemed popular. I took him to be “cool” in the socially powerful sense, but probably not a bully. Eventually we connected over our mutual appreciation of a quirky tv show. The more I got to know this guy, the more I found out that my view of him and his view of himself were quite different. Basically, here's a guy I've been able to connect with beyond the level of chatting about tv. I'm glad I didn't stick with my initial judgment about him.

This story has been echoed with a couple of other discipling/mentoring relationships recently. I'd encounter a kid, and fairly quickly dismiss him as “cool” in a negative sense, only to find out he doesn't see himself that way, and may in fact struggle with friendships. I'd then find myself moving beyond goofball joking to talking about real issues and offering support.

Interestingly, I heard one of these guys recently describe me as “cool.” I had to chuckle. I'm so not “cool” in the has-it-all, socially powerful way. Never have been. So, what did he see when he looked at me and saw someone who was “cool”?

Some of this was pretty simple, but it's worth remembering.

1. At a gathering of adults, I included him in conversation and treated his opinions as valuable. For what it's worth, this isn't a practice I've cultivated. I simply actually appreciate the thoughts of people his age.
2. We did connect over some shared nerdy interests. This can't take the place of deeper level connections, but it can help ease the way into such connections. (Talking about Star Wars can easily lead to conversations about mercy and justice, spiritual gifts, redemption, arrogance and humility, the value of community, etc.)
3. I avoided talking down. Many adults talk to middle school kids the same way they talk to pre-schoolers. Dude isn't an adult, but he does have his own thoughts and preferences.
4. This sounds way too simple, but, seriously, smiling. Again, I'm not saying that I consciously thought, “I need to make sure I'm smiling,” but this kid made it easy. Everybody responds well to a person who smiles when they see them. In this case, it was easy, but this is something that can be learned. You can train yourself to smile and be open and welcoming, even with people you may not connect with very well.

So what? We must get over our preconceptions about the kids with whom we minister. We express genuine interest in their thoughts and opinions. We express joy and affection when we see them. We connect over shared interests, but drive the conversations so that opportunities exist to go deeper.

The Myth of Common Interests

I've been thinking about this idea for awhile, but a couple of recent conversations with some friends have prompted me to put a little more thought into it. When we are hoping to make friends, or when we're advising children on how to make friends, we love to point to the idea of common interests. Even in doing ministry, people often assume that the relational connections for genuine community and discipleship occur better when people have common interests. While I don't think this is totally wrong, I think it's a bit misleading.

I had a conversation with a group of middle school students who were talking about the process of making friends. They observed that friendships were more-or-less automatic. So “automatic” might not be quite the right term, but there were built in contexts for friend-making. What do I mean by that? Think back to your own childhood. Who were your friends? Typically, they were classmates, kids who rode the same bus, teammates, etc. It wouldn't have been terribly unusual to have an entire group of friends who fit each of these categories—they were in your class, rode your bus, and were on your team. After a bit of a pause in the conversation, one of the kids asked, “How does it work for adults, then?”

I don't know, kid. I don't know. Even now, my go-to friends when something real is going on are friends from school or college, or friends I served overseas with.

Did you catch that last bit? Friends I served with. It seems that this little nugget of information starts to dig at the reality. Those friends you had as a kid may not have actually had many interests in common with you. How did the connection come about? It seems it's much more about common experience than about common interests.

The Apostle Paul's image of the church as a body highlights the idea of unity in diversity.

Here's how this has played out for me. In another recent conversation, I was talking to a couple of friends about how if somebody else had observed the history of our lives, our personalities, how we do things, and common interests, they probably wouldn't have predicted that we'd be friends. One of these people I got to know as we served with a church partnership team in Cuba together. Here's the reality. At the shallowest of levels, we still don't really have a lot of common interests. We do have a shared experience that allowed us to understand each other better. I got a picture, however incomplete, of the heart of this other person. So what does this look like in action? Well, we don't necessarily hang out all the time. However, we can be real with each other, and we have each other's backs.

Another friend was one I'd met and been around a bit, and again, didn't really perceive much in the way of common interests. Then we ended up in an accountability group together. Dude has been real with me, and has let me be real with him. And it basically has nothing to do with common interests. In this case, it's not even that much about common experience. This is simply God-given unity. It's starting to look just a bit like genuine fellowship. (Please don't confuse hanging out with fellowship. That's probably another blog entry or three.)

How does this understanding of the myth of common interests apply to doing ministry?

I think this needs to be thought about somewhat differently for ministry with kids or teens and ministry with adults.

If you're working with kids or teens, remember that the best volunteers may have practically no connection to “youth culture.” The best leaders are going to be the ones who will be there. If you're working with kids, and you feel like you have nothing in common with them, that's okay! Show up. Support them. Give them opportunities to talk about what's important to them. If you start dealing with interests and hobbies, and you know you can't connect—use your ignorance. Be willing to say, “I don't know anything about polo, but I'll come to your match” or “I'd love to crochet with you, but I'll need you to teach me how to do it.”

Here's something that's a bit of a conundrum that I don't have a good answer for. I'll offer simply a call to be aware of a certain situation. Ideally, you want the kids in your small group to have a sense of unity as a group, and to be connected to the other kids, as well as to you. Unfortunately, reality can get in the way of this. If the group only comes together as a group for an hour one day a week, and in that time, you're making announcements and dealing with a curriculum, you're frankly not going to have great connections. One obvious answer is to ensure that your group is together at other times and in other contexts. Again, reality can get in the way. Kids and their parents may not recognize the value of doing this and it may not be a priority for them. Your own family, job, education, and other responsibilities may make it very difficult for you to coordinate such shared experiences.

To a significantly lesser degree, you can at least be smart about leveraging time that you do have. Consistently arrive early and stay late for any church event. This may not be the same as spending a day together once a month, but a ten-minute conversation that you might not have had is progress.

How do you get the kids to connect with each other? I'm currently in a ministry that involves kids from a wide variety of schools. I've had small group meetings with four kids, and all four attended different schools. I'm pretty sure our middle school ministry involves at least three additional schools, as well as homeschoolers. If these kids don't see each other regularly, it's going to be harder for them to connect, especially since they do have other kids they are connecting with daily. If they have a good group of “school friends” that they see every day, they can see that there's not much use for “church friends” who they might only see once a week, or once every few weeks.

I don't really have an answer for this! Be aware. When parents come to you and say, “My kid doesn't really feel connected to the other kids,” have some suggestions ready.

Now, adults. For what it's worth, I don't understand adults. What do we do with the myth of common interests in dealing with ministry to adults?

One—be very wise about dividing up small groups based on hobbies, age, marital status, etc. Am I saying not to have a gardening group? No. I'm saying be aware that many people aren't going to connect to the gardening group. Am I saying it's bad to have age-leveled groups for adults? No. I'm saying that people's life experiences may have little connection to age, and the easist people to connect with may be nowhere near one's own age. Married people and single people definitely face different things in life, and often need the support of others who understand the same experiences. However, married people can offer something to single people that other singles can't. Single people can offer something to married people that other married people can't. Let's not hinder relationships based on this. Should adult men only be in groups with other adult men? For some things at some times, sure. Consistently, across the board? Of course not.

Here's a negative example. I'm a guy, so I can't speak to “women's ministries” at all. No experience. However, I've experienced my fair share of “men's ministries.” Let's just say that I've learned to be cynical. My experience has generally involved weak teaching, if any teaching at all. If there is content, the content is strictly on being a good husband and father. (The best case scenario was one in which the leaders acknowledged that single people were there, and that the content would still be valuable for the future, when they would become husbands and fathers. Yep. Zero understanding that we might need to address the current single state, or that people could be single and be planning on remaining single.) And trying to connect with the other guys? There was often little acknowledgement of what we had in common as believers, no conversation about deeper things at all, and plenty of people getting caught up with each other's thoughts on sportsball.

Here's where this gets tricky—Most of this isn't negative. For my friends who are married and have kids, their roles as husbands and fathers are very important to them. Having an organized group addressing this stuff is helpful and encouraging for them.

For the single, never-married, no-kids-having, introverted guy who has social anxiety and no interest in sports, this is misery. He hears that this—this—IS manhood. That is, manhood is about being married, having children, and talking about sportsball. Therefore, he is no man.

I'm not saying that this is communicated intentionally. I'm saying it's what can be heard.  I'm also not trying to completely bash men's ministries.  You may notice that one of my examples of connecting with someone with whom I didn't really share common interests involved a guy I connected with in a men's accountability group.  In other words, men's ministry done right.

Many of these experiences have left me very cynical. I know that's not healthy. What I'm saying is that there are plenty of other men who are feeling the same thing, and they're walking away. And this isn't just about men. That was one example. Are teenagers being turned off by what you assume about them? Are there women who have had it with your version of women's ministry? Are there singles who are tired of being told by the church that they have lots of time and energy that they don't actually have?

The answer is not to avoid having men's ministry. The answer is to know the men at your church or your para-church ministry. Know them. Know their stories. Acknowledge that people's experiences and interests are different. Don't assume that when it's time to ask men to “serve,” that must mean building or fixing. Invite those guys who are more nurturing to help with nursery or baby-sitting! Guys who love to cook? Acknowledge it and make sure men are welcome to be part of your hospitality-related ministries. (I say this because I've been in ministries where all hospitality-related ministries were under the deaconesses, and only women were allowed!)

So, I think with adults, it's about knowing your people and being flexible. Know people's experiences, interests, and personality quirks.

And, at the end of the day, in terms of “common interests,” it seems that loving God, loving people, and making disciples of the nations ought to be sufficient to keep us going for a while.

Love Stories, Singleness, and Youth Ministry

Love stories are weird. It's like we take these cultural/historical narratives and decide that they are exemplars of romantic love. Think: The knight or prince who rescues the princess from the evil witch/wizard/black knight, etc. and then they live happily ever after.

We also have our evangelical cultural versions of these stories. Sometimes, it's the stories of some of our heroes of the faith. Sometimes, it's denominational or church-specific stories. When I was a teenager and into my early twenties, I was part of a denomination that really, really supported and celebrated our overseas missionaries. (To clarify my feelings about this, I think it's a good thing.) There was this one single guy missionary who was connected to our district, and when he met someone on the mission field where he was serving, and they eventually got married, it was a really big deal. For a while, that story become the big “love story” narrative we all adopted. Many pastors and youth ministers will point to their own stories, whether they mean them to be an example or even something humorous.

Here's one place we have to be wise in propagating these love story narratives. Many teenagers and young adults take such stories as prescriptive rather than descriptive. We hear these stories all the time, along with often unsolicited advice. We see the narratives portrayed in media—whether rom-coms, comic books, or the “love” lives of celebrities. We can hear, at church, advice like, “You just have to wait. Live life, and it'll happen.” Don't worry, though, because within five minutes, someone else will suggest, “You have to be intentional. Make a plan. Have a list. Pursue. If you don't, it won't happen.” And of course, we readily hear the unspoken, “And it will all be your fault.”

Here are some thoughts on how we talk about our love story narratives from someone who is single, over thirty, and involved in youth ministry and children's ministry.

1. It is good to share love stories! Kids, teens, and single adults all need to hear the good ones. Many of us haven't had good ones modeled for us by our parents, our communities, and our culture. By all means, share the stories!
   
   
2. However. . . when dealing with traditional narratives, be prepared to critique them. Fairy tales actually have a lot wrong with them. If someone is swooning over a love story from a book or movie, be ready to break down the details. Why is this story particularly compelling? What is appealing about the people, how their relationship developed, etc.? Does this match up with our Christian values? Even the “American dream” from a generation ago should be challenged. A nice house and a nice car has little to do with a solid relationship, and in fact may point to someone who has missed out on what God has called us to do with our resources! Instead of stories of one person being “rescued,” why not point to stories of people who value each other's equal worth before God and fight injustice together?
   
   
3. Make sure people hear a variety of stories. Every story doesn't need to be “And we met in college and fell in love and the rest is history.” Whether you're talking to little kids, teenagers, or single adults, make sure they hear stories of people who found love later in life, people who went through messy divorces and have seen those experiences redeemed, people who stuck it out through rough spots in a marriage and have seen marriages healed and restored. What this will help people recognize is that no two people, and no two relationships are alike. We need to work to make sure kids understand that there is no formula. In other words, some people do wind up with their high school sweetheart, and that's cool. Some people marry their lab partner from Chemistry 101 in college. Some people meet the right person at the book store they frequent—after they've retired. And—some people don't. 
   
   
4. Actively normalize singleness. The number of times I've heard speakers at youth events say something about their amazing spouse, and then say, “When you get married. . .” As soon as someone says, “When you get married,” here's what happens in the hearts and minds of kids in the room—The kid who struggles with relationships of any kind is distracted because she's already made up her mind that no one likes her, and you've announced that it's “normal” to be in a relationship. Yep, you just told her she's weird. Kids who weren't thinking about romantic relationships at all because they didn't need to be, have now been told they should be. There are likely kids in the room who are dealing with same-sex attraction. In an evangelical context, this kid is already very burdened, and probably hasn't talked to you about this, and it's often never the person you think it is. You've pushed him a bit deeper into his struggle at this point. On the other side of the room is the couple who have been together for three months, clearly an indication that they will be together forever, and now that they're both fifteen, they have the wisdom and experience in life to know that they will be together forever. Seriously, let's not encourage those guys. 
   
   
   Obviously, the elephant in the room is the statistical reality. Most people in your youth group, kids' ministry, singles' group, etc. will get married at some point. However, all of them will live some part of life as a single person, and, boy, evangelicals love to talk about preparing people for marriage, but it seems we don't do a lot to prepare people for healthy singleness.
   
   
5. Be aware that people have a variety of relationships with both single and married people. When marriage is mentioned, some people are going to cringe, because they've only seen it in a negative light. Particularly in children's ministry and youth ministry situations, be aware of the adults in the room—both emotionally and physically. Are there any kids in the room from single-parent families? Are there kids in blended family situations? Who are your volunteers? If your Sunday School teachers, small group leaders, recreation staff, etc. are single, remember that when you mentioned to the students earlier, “When you get married. . .” you also just told your students, “Your teacher, in particular, is a weirdo.” I'm not at all saying that this is what you intended, but it's what they can hear. (It's also what your volunteers can hear you saying about themselves!)
   
   
6. And now it's time for the inevitable quote from the Song of Solomon. “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.” Let me be upfront on this one. I've heard from pre-teen boys about the pressure they feel from adults, including their own parents, to have a girlfriend. Pre-teens. Kids still in elementary school. And these are church kids, whose parents are also church people. Really?! Now, do I think that the adults in these kids' lives have intentionally put this pressure on them? I'd say in most cases that's highly unlikely. Here's the thing, when we adults make a comment to or about a ten-year-old along the lines of, “You look sharp, buddy! I bet all the girls like you!” or “You're a great guy. You'll be a good catch for one of these girls,” the ten-year-old takes these comments seriously. He's absorbing the idea that the adults around him expect him to have a girlfriend! Can we find a different way to affirm kids? Our culture already oversexualizes kids at younger and younger ages, and kids are already in the midst of more and more peer pressure regarding relationships, and, yes, even sexual activity, that we need to make sure they know that it's normal and healthy to just not even be considering those things until later in life.  ("Later in life" = post-elementary school)
   
   
7. Ensure that you use Scripture in context. Just because something is popular in evangelical church culture doesn't mean it's biblical. I remember reading a book that dealt with relationships from a “biblical” perspective. This book was very popular at the time, and many of the people who recommended the book to me were people I had a fair bit of trust in. I won't mention the particular book or author (whose last name rhymes with “smeldredge”), but there was broad statement after broad statement that read, “All men. . .” or “All women. . .” Very few of the statements applied to me. I could name dozens of people I knew who wouldn't connect with any of these statements. The author's view of “biblical” masculinity and femininity seemed to be based much more on a particular understanding of western cultural mythos than, say, the Bible. While the Bible does address marriage relationships, it really does not directly address much in the way of a love story narrative. You really can't quote chapter and verse on what it looks like to meet someone, date, figure out if they're “the one,” plan a really cool proposal, etc. in contemporary America. I'm not saying that the Bible doesn't address these things—only that it doesn't address them directly. We can point to general principles of who God calls all of us who are Christians to be, how he calls us to treat people, what he expects us to do with our resources, etc. We just need to be extremely careful about telling someone “The Bible says. . .” We also can't treat historical descriptions as if they are commands. I seriously doubt my own love story will involve my dad sending a servant to a well in another city to find me a wife (you know, only if she offers to water the camels—I do have standards).

What is Love? (Baby don't hurt me.)

So, I've been working on notes for a totally different topic, but I want to write something of a follow-up to a post shared by another blogger. My friend Angela posted about cyberbullying, particularly in a context of middle school. In discussing how we adults (but particularly parents) can respond to these situations, she says, “First, we need to let our middle schooler know they are loved. We need to remind them of their self-worth; their worth in the eyes of Jesus.” You can read the whole post here.

I really want to expand on this point a bit. Parents and mentors often think they are doing this and doing it well. The problem may not be that you're not communicating that your child is loved, but whether or not they're able to hear it.

Too often, I have heard parallel stories from students and parents about the same events, but with very different perceptions of those events. A parent will be celebrating an amazing time they had with their kid, and the kid walked away from the same even feeling unloved. Sometimes it's practically the opposite. A student comes in gushing about this amazing thing his parents did for him, but when I ask the parents about it, they barely remember what the kid is talking about.

Let's face, even with the large number of middle school students facing some sort of bullying situation (cyber- or otherwise), the reality is that most middle schoolers struggle with feeling loved and having an awareness of their worth. If a key aspect of mitigating this somewhat is to communicate love and value to them regularly, but they may be unable to hear or accept it, what do we do?

I'd like to toss out Dr. Gary Chapman's concept of the “Five Love Languages” as a tool that might help. I'm not claiming that his ideas are amazing science, nor that he's pulled them straight from the Bible. What I would say is that his general concept seems to be a helpful tool for a lot of people to understand these gaps in any of their relationships—when someone believes they are communicating love, but the other person doesn't perceive it.

The short version of Chapman's idea is that people give and receive love in different ways, and while all the major ways he identifies are valuable to all people, most people operate out of a primary love language, and understanding a person's love language will allow you to communicate love to them in a way they hear and understand. The five he delineates are gifts, quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, and physical touch.

The idea is that you should be able to pay attention to what your child does respond to. They may not feel that you love them if you “only” say it in words, but they might react positively to you baking cookies for them, or to you putting away your phone and computer for some one-on-one time with them. You may have another child who you do things for every day, but the complain that their parents don't tell them that they love them!

I only recently figured out (I think?) that my dad is a “gifts” guy. I frankly have never really perceived much in the way of love coming from my dad, but I've recently noticed that he picks out small things that I need and picks them up on occasion when he's out—a calendar, some storage containers, etc. (If you're worried about whether your kid is a “gifts” kid, and you don't have money, don't worry. . . the language of gifts doesn't necessarily mean spending lots of money.) Basically, as an adult, I'm figuring out that it may well be that my dad has tried to express love to me, but we were effectively speaking different languages.

Make sure you're speaking the same language as your kid when your trying to communicate love and affirmation. This goes for parents and mentors. For those of us who are not parents, but mentor other people's kids, this is one of the reasons we need to spend time with the kids—so that we can make sure we're affirming them in their own language. This is another reason small group leaders and parents should regularly share their wisdom with each other—so we can help each other out in the process of loving and affirming these kids.

Unintentional Lessons About Discipleship From a Student

Anyone who works with children or teens knows that it often seems like you learn more from them than they seem to learn from you.

I had just such an encounter a week ago.

I was there to see a soccer game that one of my middle school discipleship guys was playing in. Unfortunately, as is often the case in these scenarios, I couldn't actually interact with the guy I was there to see since he was off with his team. Also unfortunately, the previous game had gotten interrupted by rain, so they were resuming that game, causing a delay in the game I was there to see. I wasn't quite sure what to do at this point.

At this point, the older brother steps in. I actually have a pretty good relationship with the older brother, so it was good to be able to spend a little time with him. However, he decided it was time for us to throw around the football he had with him.

Let me tell you something about footballs and me. We don't get along. Pretty much as soon as it involves anything sports-related or if it just calls for physical coordination, I'm out. I know close to nothing about any sports, and football is particularly perplexing.

Normally if someone proposes football (or anything sports-related), I attempt to politely decline, even if some people interpret it as snorting derisively. In this case, I knew this guy pretty well, so I decided to give it a shot. I let him know he'd have to teach me. He knows me well enough that he just grinned and said, “I know.”

So this high school student proceeds to go through some very basic stuff with me—here's how you should stand, here's how you move your arm, here's when you let go of the ball, here's how you aim, here's how you can be prepared to catch the ball. And it worked.

IT WORKED. I was pretty consistent at catching the ball and at throwing it where I was aiming. Understand, I never had a gym teacher do this. Gym teachers always seemed to assume everyone had the basics, so I never really learned about sports in PE, because I never had the prerequisite knowledge to understand what was happening. This student taught me more in about twenty minutes than years of PE classes.

What does this have to do with discipleship?

1. I was willing to participate because of the relationship I had with the teacher.

If a stranger had come up and asked about throwing around a football, I would have declined. As it was, the invitation came from someone who knew me and cared about me. That made learning stuff that I wasn't particularly excited about much more palatable.

When we're attempting to teach people what it is to be a Christ-follower, we need to function out of relationship. If you're in student ministry, you know that students have any number of motivations for showing up at church. They may simply not care what we have to say if we're just the weird adult in the room. If we get to know them and show that we care about them, they'll have a reason to listen.

2. The guy who was teaching me knew my starting point, and began with the basics.

Because he already knew me, he knew my thoughts and experiences regarding sports. He didn't make fun, and he knew he had to start by showing me very basic skills. We weren't attempting to play football. He was just helping me learn to throw and to catch.

One of the reasons we must know the people we're attempting to disciple is that we need to know their starting point. For someone with no church background, there may be a ton of misconceptions to clear up. Frankly, for someone with tons of church background, there may be a ton of misconceptions to clear up! If someone has the basic teachings down, we need to be ready to guide them in serving and reaching others. If they feel like they're sitting around and absorbing the same information they've already heard a hundred times, they're going to check out.

3. This student (and his little sister) encouraged me and celebrated small victories.

He probably could have made fun of my lack of knowledge, skill, and coordination. He didn't.

This one's pretty straight-forward. We need to be intentional about encouraging and celebrating small victories. Encourage the kid who remembers that Acts is in the New Testament. Celebrate in some way with the kid who usually offers sarcastic comments but manages to hold his tongue.

So, it all begins in a context of relationship. Based on that relationship, you instruct, guide, and model according to that person's particular starting point. Always encourage, and celebrate small victories. These are a few things I learned while waiting for a soccer game to start.