Imagine being on a youth mission trip in Jamaica with more than 20 students and sponsors and having the associate pastor of the church (who was still in the States), die suddenly and unexpectedly. Cost and logistics prevent the group from participating in the funeral service of even being to connected to what is happening as the church family mourns a beloved leader. Not only that, but someone has to inform his two nieces (one of whom is an adult leader on the trip) that her uncle had died and she must return home alone on the next flight? That is when crisis pulls at your soul, but you are not allowed to fall apart as group leader.

In the "bigness" of a crisis, we sometimes can forget the names of the individuals involved. They are hidden under the banner of the names of the dates, institutions or locations where or when the tragedies occurred. We may remember Cassie Bernall as the girl who said, "Yes," as she was murdered during Columbine, but who remembers Rodney Dickens or Candance Lee Williams who lost their lives when the Twin Towers fell? Cassie's story caught national media attention and was memorialized in a book by her parents. Many individual 9-11 victims were lost in the "bigness" of the crisis; yet, there are many people left to mourn and pick up the pieces of their lives. In the boroughs of New York, there are pastors, youth ministers and friends still working with the individual fallout of this event. When seen on TV, crises stir our curiosity. We scan the Internet wanting more information; yet, we are emotionally detached. Even when the tragedy is closer to home, we often turn away and feel inadequate to address the reality.

Working in youth ministry for nearly 15 years in the same congregation, I have had the benefit of engaging in generational youth ministry. Some of my students are now parents. In some cases, the students have become my leaders. I have seen my students become adults and experience crises, seemingly unscathed, like gold refined by the fire. I also have seen students burned and scarred by personal tragedy and subsequenttly unwilling or unable to move forward with their lives. In turn, some of the scars have turned into generational burdens that ultimately will have a negative impact on their children and other family members. The biggest obstacle to confronting a crisis is getting those involved to realize they cannot go through it alone. While you may be able to grieve in a group, you must heal alone. Crisis can lead us closer to God or tear us away. We can be left with hope or with questions of faith. The death of our associate pastor some four years ago still leaves a hollowness in my soul because I was left alone in my grief.

A true crisis forces us to come to a decision. It is a decision that most of the time we do not feel prepared to address. How do we cope with being raped when we were not even ready for sex? How will we pay for a new home when the primary bread winner dies too soon? What about the child my parents adopted now that my father is gone? Why was I so far away when tragedy struck? Crises often leave us with lingering questions of why and how after the initial shock and pain subside. Individuals need care, comfort and practical advice long after the crowds depart and people think your life should be back to "normal." As youth pastors and workers, we can be there with a list of resources and expert advice to help with the more common tragedies we face on a regular basis. We can develop plans of action to deal with situations before they occur. Long-term, we can remember to check in with those we shepard.  We can see how they are doing, take them to lunch and lend a empathetic ear. We can remember special days when the wounds of the crisis may be particularly painful; but we never can forget, regardless of the size of the crisis, there is an individual who needs personal love and care.