Shifting Gears

While I was still in high school, my father thought it was important that I learned to drive a manual. I mean, it makes sense. Who knows when you’ll be on the run and find a car to jump in to attempt an escape and alas - it’s a manual. Then you’re left thinking, “If only my father had taught me how to drive a stick shift.” So, big shout out to my father, for trying to teach me how to drive a stick. I must emphasize try, because I still have no hope when it comes to standard cars. We had our lesson in the parking lot, my dad constantly talking me through the motions. Then, go time. The parking lot was a good 3-4 minutes from the house, so here was my moment to. I stalled three times. Upon completing the long journey, I got out of that car, kissed the driveway and foreswore future standard lessons. 
So why a long winded lesson about my inability to drive a manual? Well first, if you’re running from bad guys, don’t call me. I can’t help. More importantly, or maybe less depending on your situation, is element within the story of wanting to escape. Learning to do something new isn’t the hardest thing to do. Implementing it? Now that can be difficult.
Another story, if you please. (You’ll learn that I really like stories) When I was in the Peace Corps, we underwent rigorous training. Three months of nothing but language training, cultural exchange, and learning how to teach. 8-5 every day, and half days on Saturday. Coming out of training, we were pumped. We had proficiency in French, felt like we really understood the local Burkinabe culture, and could teach like no one had ever taught before. Fast forward to a week later, and I’m receiving texts ranging from “students just walked out of my class, all 120 of them” to “just had a one hour conversation with my neighbor. I didn’t understand a word of it” to even “it’s been a week and they already ate my dog…” Times were tough, and we had been preparing for three months straight. Even if we’d been trained for another month or two, I still believe that we would have faced problems that years of training wouldn’t have prepared us for.
Now, I’m not trying to discount the preparation process, it’s a key wheel in the cog. It’s why we go to school before we jump into a profession, why we read a recipe before we start throwing things together, why we outline a lesson before we teach it. However, it’s not the end goal. We could be beyond prepared for something, but until we have that experience in that role, it’s all just preparation. This is a lesson I’ve learned multiple times throughout my few years on this earth, and it’s something I’ve learned again in the past few weeks. I’m new to youth ministry.
I mean, I’ve been preparing throughout my college years, working on retreats and with youth groups, but nothing I have been through would have prepared me for the first week I was in charge. From the little things, like where the pens are located or which keys open which lock, to the big things, like who to email about what questions you may have. It’s been, in a word, humbling. In a sentence, it’s been wonderfully humbling and an amazing adventure.
We all experience transitions in our lives, like switching to a new youth group and handling that transition to graduating college and trying to find exactly where God is calling you. Preparation is only going to get us so far, the next part calls for trust. This is where we can run to the Bible- “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6. God calls us to great things and to get to those great things takes great change. We are constantly undergoing transitions; at work, in our personal and spiritual lives, and in our homes. The most important part of these transitions, is realizing you have room to grow. You can never be 100% prepared for every situation. Trust that you are where God wants you to be, and accept the change with a humble and learning heart. You may not ever be able to drive a stick shift. But with your Father in the front seat guiding you along, you’re safe, so enjoy the experience.