Driving Highway 395, Teenagers and Heaven
9/10/2007
This summer, we had our youth camp at Mammoth Mountain-a ski resort that is legendary for its beauty and grandeur. Located in the high Sierras, this majestic setting is breath-taking (partly because it's at 9,000 feet in elevation)! When I looked at the driving directions for the trip, I saw that we'd be driving on highway 395 for over four hours. Ouch! Hours with no place to stop. A van filled with freshmen girls. Are you thinking, "Hell?" Close. (And, I've got a photo to prove it). Click here to see that photo.
Let me describe the trip on highway 395. The only signs of life through that barren wasteland were road signs boasting directions to either Death Valley, which was an attractive option after about three hours in the van, or signs advertising the world's best beef jerky 100 miles ahead. Aside from the occasional dust devil swirling through the miles and miles and miles of dirt, there was nothing to see, no where to stop, no radio stations to tune into, no intelligent conversation to be had (that's a little bit of an exaggeration-key words: little bit)…in a word…nothing. I was bored, the students were bored with my questions, my pursuit of their life-stories, and my constant phrase, "can you talk a little louder? I've gone deaf from too many years in youth ministry standing in front of speakers." It was a four-hour odyssey of pain.
And then…finally…we rounded a bend, climbed steeply for three miles and we saw it… peering at us from the cloud line was the peak of Mammoth Mountain. The air cooled as we climbed in elevation. The sun appeared more spectacular, more serene, brighter-I think a freshman girl, in my van, actually woke up. The mountain range was etched against the horizon like a watercolor painting, resplendent in orange, red and gold. Arriving at Mammoth after driving highway 395 was like departing hell and entering heaven. (If you think I don't know about hell-click here for photos from hell).
We got out of the car, stretched our muscles, inhaled deeply and soaked in the beauty. To be honest, I was tempted to drop to my knees and confess that I was thinking (throughout the drive) where I could bury a few students.
In reflection of that entire event, I relearned something I already knew but always forget. Regardless how challenging the journey, the right destination makes the trip worth it.
This is true in youth ministry. The up hills and down hills that you travel to be a youth worker are all worthwhile. The curves and detours of teaching students week after week can bring wonderful blessings. The long stretches of seeing no fruit in students' lives are brought to an end when one student's life is changed. The miles you traverse to build a close, intimate relationship with Jesus is so worth the investment of time and effort.
And one day, arriving in heaven will make the journey on this earth seem like such a short drive, even if your life has been like one long road trip on highway 395.
You'll round a bend, feel a cool, fresh whisper of wind on your cheeks, know you've been raised to a higher elevation and there you'll be, in the splendor and glory of heaven forever and ever and ever. You'll drop to your knees and praise. What a day that will be. Until then, keep driving my friends. We're in this together.
Let me describe the trip on highway 395. The only signs of life through that barren wasteland were road signs boasting directions to either Death Valley, which was an attractive option after about three hours in the van, or signs advertising the world's best beef jerky 100 miles ahead. Aside from the occasional dust devil swirling through the miles and miles and miles of dirt, there was nothing to see, no where to stop, no radio stations to tune into, no intelligent conversation to be had (that's a little bit of an exaggeration-key words: little bit)…in a word…nothing. I was bored, the students were bored with my questions, my pursuit of their life-stories, and my constant phrase, "can you talk a little louder? I've gone deaf from too many years in youth ministry standing in front of speakers." It was a four-hour odyssey of pain.
And then…finally…we rounded a bend, climbed steeply for three miles and we saw it… peering at us from the cloud line was the peak of Mammoth Mountain. The air cooled as we climbed in elevation. The sun appeared more spectacular, more serene, brighter-I think a freshman girl, in my van, actually woke up. The mountain range was etched against the horizon like a watercolor painting, resplendent in orange, red and gold. Arriving at Mammoth after driving highway 395 was like departing hell and entering heaven. (If you think I don't know about hell-click here for photos from hell).
We got out of the car, stretched our muscles, inhaled deeply and soaked in the beauty. To be honest, I was tempted to drop to my knees and confess that I was thinking (throughout the drive) where I could bury a few students.
In reflection of that entire event, I relearned something I already knew but always forget. Regardless how challenging the journey, the right destination makes the trip worth it.
This is true in youth ministry. The up hills and down hills that you travel to be a youth worker are all worthwhile. The curves and detours of teaching students week after week can bring wonderful blessings. The long stretches of seeing no fruit in students' lives are brought to an end when one student's life is changed. The miles you traverse to build a close, intimate relationship with Jesus is so worth the investment of time and effort.
And one day, arriving in heaven will make the journey on this earth seem like such a short drive, even if your life has been like one long road trip on highway 395.
You'll round a bend, feel a cool, fresh whisper of wind on your cheeks, know you've been raised to a higher elevation and there you'll be, in the splendor and glory of heaven forever and ever and ever. You'll drop to your knees and praise. What a day that will be. Until then, keep driving my friends. We're in this together.
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