First Aid

I mentioned in a previous post (Defending Scott) that Scott Burlison ( see picture) was never boring.  He was a youth from a difficult family background who loved the youth group and was very active during his high school years.  Scott was a great guy who just wanted and needed a lot of attention.   I have also mentioned previously (Sometimes people die) that I never had anyone seriously injured on a Ski Trip.  Today's story brings those two facts together in a story you had to see to believe...

I loved Ski Trips, but I was never much into skiing.  I had a fall getting out of a lift chair when I was in college that pretty much shut down the mountain for a few minutes while they sorted out the pile of humanity I created, and from that point forward I became a spectator on the slopes.  My task was to sit in the lodge, hold our tables, play Pass the Pigs, drink hot chocolate- and wait.  What was I waiting for?  The announcement.  Every time a voice would come over the P.A. system I would hold my breath and pray I did not hear these words:  "Will someone from the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee group please come to the First Aid station?"  In January of 1996 I was sitting in the lodge at Winterplace Ski Resort in West Virginia, and I did hear those words.  I raced down to First Aid and was told that the Ski Patrol was bringing in one of my guys who appeared to be badly hurt.  He had no feeling in his legs.  I waited and prayed.

They arrived a few minutes later with Scott strapped to a back board.  They took him in to see the medical staff as one of the Ski Patrol explained to me that he had taken a bad fall, and when they arrived he reported that he had no feeling in his legs or feet.  An ambulance had already been called to take him to the local hospital.  It looked bad.  As they examined Scott, I noticed that he kept changing his answers to some of the questions they were asking him.  I also noticed an occasional smile passing across his face.  I hated myself for doing it, but I found myself doubting whether he was actually hurt or not.  He had faked minor injuries before; perhaps he was just seeking attention again.  I kept my thoughts to myself until it was almost time to transfer him to the ambulance.  I pulled one of the medics aside and shared my doubts with him; he looked at me like I had lost my mind.  But he also thought it was worth checking.  They had removed Scott's ski boots and socks, and as the medic walked by the stretcher Scott was on he let his hand brush the bottom of Scott's bare foot.  His leg immediately jerked.  The medic turned and looked at me with a "You have GOT to be kidding" sort of look, and then walked away.  They had to take him to the hospital at this point, and I went with him.  The doctors there found absolutely nothing wrong with him, but they gave him a neck brace (again, see picture) to comfort him and to make sure he got attention from his friends.  It may have also been to keep me from strangling him...

Youth Ministry is a lot like the First Aid station at a ski resort.  We seek to make a difference in the lives of teenagers in a very short period of time, sometimes without knowing all the facts.  Often we can only apply emotional and spiritual band-aids,  when in fact surgery is probably needed.  When student ministry is done correctly- with love and compassion in the name of Jesus- those band-aids can help stop the bleeding and help our youth survive the stressful teenage years.  They can encourage students to discover their worth and their identities.  Sometimes we can't (or don't) do enough.  But sometimes, like in the case of Scott, the youth and the youth leaders keep giving love no matter what the person has done.  That is God's grace.  That is when youth ministry works.  Those are the moments that make me proud to have been a youth pastor for 28 years.  So Scott, where ever you are today, we love you dude!  I only hope you have as many fond memories of us as we have of you, and that some of those band-aids stuck...

Because of Jesus,