In memory of Randy Parson
In April, Randy had a a heart attack and passed away shortly after writing this article. I had the true honor to get to know Randy.
Randy took the faith-filled risk of taking on a youth ministry position at retirement age. He had a relentless heart for the students in his church and community, along with an unabated desire to learn how to be a better youth ministry leader that made him a blessing not only in Loveland UMC and Loveland, but throughout Greater Cincinnati. It is a bittersweet moment.
I am truly going to miss my friend, but with a broken heart I rejoice at the same time because he is in the arms of Jesus, hearing Him say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." - Stan Elder - SW Ohio Coordinator for NNYM
Randy's Post:
The police cruiser's blue flashing light in my review mirror was not the sign from God I had been hoping for.
It was a hot July afternoon in 2012. As a first-time volunteer for the youth's mission trip, I was driving a rented van with seven teens from Loveland, Ohio to our mission site in a neighborhood of Somalian refugees in Lewiston, Maine. Delayed at a toll booth near Worcester, Massachusetts, we became separated from the other four vehicles in our caravan. In my haste to rejoin the others, I failed to notice that the speed limit had decreased. Although the stoic officer muttered some admiration of our zeal for doing the Lord's work, it did not deter him from writing in his ticket book.
Recently retired from being a school district superintendent, I had been approached about putting my hat in the ring for the part-time position of Director of Youth Ministry at our small church. Somewhat offhandedly, I asked God for some sort of sign as to what I should do. I didn't expect the sign to come on my first volunteer experience. "The Lord has spoken," I thought as I placed the citation in my wallet. "The church probably won't even let me volunteer with the youth again, let alone give me a job. "
Our forgiving God had a different plan. One night after an exhausting day at the mission sites and a powerful evening of worship, one of the younger boys, who I was just getting to know, approached me and said, "Hey, I heard you say you liked to teach people stuff. We need a new youth leader for next year. Why don't you do it?" What may seem to some like an adolescent's incidental remark represented to me a significant, emotional moment and a life-changing message. On that warm night in a dusty old chapel in Maine, I was suddenly filled with new energy, purpose, and peace. An invitation to serve youth - from a youth. This was the sign. I now wanted the job more than any career move I had ever made.
I will soon complete my fifth year as youth director. At age 63, this "encore career" has proven to be rewarding beyond words. I cling to a notion that I learned from a middle-aged youth pastor: although twenty-something, spirited leaders often relate so well to teens because they have so recently been one, older leaders can bring to the table the wisdom of life experience and a mature sense of calm that many youth need. I have been blessed with a talented young assistant, a supportive congregation, a loyal, dedicated team of volunteer leaders, and a steady stream of inspiring youth. Yes, I have learned to adapt, snapchat, and even rap! But my goal has never been to keep up with the latest teen trend. Rather it is to help young people hear the Truth that is so often obscured by the cacophony of pop culture and social media - to hear that quiet voice of Jesus revealing God's plan for them, assuring them of forgiveness, hope, and unconditional love.
This isn't to say that working with teens can't "keep you young" - or, at least, keep you laughing. Late one evening during a mission trip while herding our group for prayer, a boy sent me text from a remote area in the huge church in which we were sleeping: "sorry for using phone… but this is emergency… stranded! … plz bring TP to men's room on third floor - toss under door to second stall... ASAP... thx!"
Not that "all-things-bathroom" is a theme for our youth group, but several years ago I was surprised by the donation of a free-standing bathtub by a junior high girl. Inspired by a description of a game by Bob Goff in LOVE DOES, she and her friends played "Bigger and Better" in her neighborhood. The girls started with a paper clip, and ended the game by hauling home the unwieldy tub. Now painted and adorned with bright cushions, it remains the focal point of our youth room - prized seating for the lucky teen (or two or three) who arrive early on Wednesday nights. Random Dorito fragments left in the tub from previous weeks are a frequent bonus.
In addition to many laughs, I have shed my share of tears along with the teens. Several years ago while at youth group a high school girl received a call to go immediately to the local hospital. We learned an hour later that her father had died unexpectedly. The following week one of the youth suggested that the entire group form a prayer circle around her home. Each teen, even those who had never uttered a word during group time, offered a personal prayer of support and love for the girl and her mother. God is rarely nearer than when youth raise up one of their friends in prayer.
On another occasion God used us to help a high school senior whose life was in turmoil. His terminally ill widowed mother was in a nursing care facility, and they had been evicted from their apartment. Youth and adults pulled together to help buy clothes and supplies. A leader gave him driving lessons. Another youth's family opened their home where the young man lived for several months until he was able to go into the military. Many of us wept the day he spoke before the congregation to express his gratitude, powerfully crediting God for pulling him through a dark period of his life.
Ten years ago I was absorbed 24/7 in the trenches of leading a school district - running frantically from board meetings to personnel hearings to tax levy campaign rallies. I was beginning to think about "retirement," picturing greater serenity, and perhaps somewhat pretentiously thinking that I would find a way to use "my gifts" to help others. Well, I was called into youth ministry, and have found the job to be an unpredictable roller coaster of joys and challenges. Serenity was not to be, but gifts have certainly been shared - the greatest of which have been for me.