“Oh my God!” were the last words one student reported coming from my lips just before the impact. A truck pulling a fifth-wheel trailer crossed over the road’s center line, slamming into our side, pulling its trailer deep through the interior of the bus. When the bus finally came to a stop, the scene I witnessed resembled more of a war zone than a weekend youth retreat—six of our students were dead; many others were injured; and everyone was facing a long journey of emotional healing. As youth minister, I had to work through my own grief while walking with others through theirs.

I was not supposed to hear the words, “He is not the quality of speaker we need for this event,” but I did and it hurt, a lot. I really admire the person who spoke these words. I would have much rather accepted critique from him than to be left questioning my ability as a speaker. If he questioned my quality, then perhaps others did, as well. Later that year, I was asked to speak at a conference at which he, too, would be speaking. I could not help but wonder if he thought I was “good enough” to be on the same stage with him. Even so, I had to find a way to deal with my own uneasiness and pain while fulfilling my commitment to the conference.

Horrific ministry tragedies or common disappointments can leave a youth worker struggling to find a space in which to deal with his or her own emotional issues. Because teens and families count on the youth worker to be a focal point, compass and encyclopedia throughout the grief journey, the youth worker’s journey can be overlooked easily and covered with the business of ministry. Regardless, youth workers have to take seriously their need for self care.

Defeating the Youth Worker Grief Myths

There are three myths that keep youth ministers from working through their own pain of loss. These myths are easy to spot but difficult to defeat because of the strong desire youth workers have to serve and please people.

I can’t deal with my pain right now. You can’t afford not to deal with your pain. Youth workers who choose to push their grief aside turn into hurt, bitter, angry, self-destructive and paranoid people. John was a youth volunteer supreme. He had a contagious passion for teenagers, was creative nad available for service at a moment’s notice; he even loved lock-ins. He was on the scene and was touched deeply by an event in which teenagers died in a horrible accident. At first, he dealt with his grief, but the pressure to help others slowly took up the space he had created to deal with his own pain. When asked to back off from the ministry and deal with his grief, it turned ugly. In short, he did not last long in the ministry; neither did his marriage. Like a splinter, the pain of loss will work its way out. You can’t stop it. You have to deal with it.