“That” kid is strange. He’s only been attending youth group for a few months but is already making waves.
For the first few weeks he sat in the back of the youth room and, although he laughed at all the wrong times, seemed harmless. But over the weeks he’s slowly inched his way up to the front and has become a distraction.
He smells. His clothes are out of style. The other teens subconsciously (or maybe consciously) avoid him.
Sure, he seems sincere…but, well, he’s weird.
Yes, he worships with reckless abandon, so loudly that other teens scoot away. But he’s starting to bring his weird friends to the meetings. Sure my youth group is growing with new believers now, which is great, of course, but they don’t look like the other teens in my group.
The pastor’s daughter complains that she is afraid of them. And I’m starting to feel pressure to intervene.
But then a thought shoots like a rocket across my soul.
“That” kid is the kind of kid that Jesus chose.
The kind that reeked of fish and filth. The kind who others scooted away from. The kind who had been overlooked by other rabbis. The kind filled with passion for a God who loves them just like they are. The kind unashamed to tell their friends about Jesus and invite them to “come and see.”
“Lord, give me more kids like ‘that’ kid.”