I can’t count the number of hours I’ve sat at my laptop here, trying to make the words come out right. You wouldn’t think it’d be so hard. It’s not like I’m learning someone else’s story to tell, after all. It’s my own teenage story… the one I’ve lived and survived and rejoiced through.
It’s the story that has made me who I am today.
I’m on the docket to tell a piece of my story to our Youth Group this week, and I desire to share the snippet of when I was their age. (Actually it’s really not a snippet at all… there’s so many parts of my story I could tell as a preteen and teenager. Where do I begin??) I desire for these amazing young people to realize I may understand some of what they are going through. And, I’d love nothing more to prevent just one of them from making the same mistakes I did.
I don’t believe I’ve disclosed this here, yet. Yes, I’m a Youth Group Leader. It looks strange for me to type it, and even stranger for me to call myself one. We’re three weeks into it, and I am loving it, and loving the youth!
Back to my story… Much of my teenage years I lived two lives. I was a hard-working, good-behaving, successful-in-sports student during the week, but on the weekends, I was someone else. The blame doesn’t fall on anyone but me, but I do believe those whom I hung around influenced me. I wish I could have a do-over with some of those teenage years.
Yes, God was in my life then, but I didn’t have much to do with Him.
In fact, I pretty much ignored Him.
Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time coming up with the words to share. God is such a part of my life now, and I wish He would have been back then. I wonder how different my life would have been if I would have embraced a life with Jesus, instead of living my life for myself.
I was never taught then that I could have a personal relationship with my Savior, nor did I comprehend that I even had one. God was “scary” to me, and I believed He was ready to punish me at any moment.
Friend, when you think of your story of your teenage years, what comes to mind. What do you think of? Is it a happy story, or a not-so-happy one? Is it a story of growth and change, or one of fear and protection?
We all have a story from our teenage years, and there’s a teenager out there who could benefit from hearing or reading yours.
Maybe I’ll share mine here after sharing it with the youth this week. In the meantime, I’d love to read a snippet of your story below if you’d care to share. And if not, that’s fine too. Just remember, your story is worth telling.
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