...for the Young Adult

As I shoved the next handful of double stuffed oreos into my mouth, an overwhelming sense of sickness fell across me. It wasn't the half-eaten package of oreos that lay before me or even the exhaustion I felt from the workout I completed earlier in order to feel worthy of eating the oreos. It was caused by the scene that played out before me on the television screen I was glued to.

A young woman sitting alone in her hello kitty t-shirt occupied the booth of a Kentucky Fried Chicken in the middle of Mercury, Minnesota. As she sat in her own presence she devoured a tray full of food. A bucket of chicken, a vat of mashed potatoes, a pile of tacos and a personal pizza covered the table she was sitting in. With that, the scene changed and she was alone yet again. This time in her car, parked outside of the house of a man consumed with reconstructing action figures.

Charlize Theron played the role of Mavis Gary, a ghost writer who left her small town to achieve big goals in the "mini apple" of Minneapolis. The entire movie held a collection of scenes strung together by the underlying defeat of a failed life.

What made this movie depressing was not the town she was visiting. Nor was it the dive bar she would drink for hours in or the vacant Macy's she found herself shopping at, although these added to the effect.

It was the fear in every audience member that their life would end up like hers.

Mediocre.

As a young adult myself I am constantly faced with choices and constantly pushed towards greatness. And although I know I want to be successful and I know I want to achieve greatness, I still lie awake most nights dwelling on the fear that I may never make an impact on this earth.

I fear mediocrity.

I fear ending up alone and looking back at the choices I have made and seeing that they led me to my own downfall. The entire movie was stale, seeping with images of failed lives and people settling for the life they were currently living.

Why do people allow themselves to go through life coasting?

To go through life with out direction?

Without purpose?

Without an ingrained knowledge that we are all deserving of a great life?

As a young adult, I have quite a lengthy life ahead of me. I choose to fight mediocrity with hard work and to always rely on the fact that I am worth so much more than settling.

To you young adults, what will you do?

Will you coast through a stale life of poor choices and missed opportunities, or will you realize that you are deserving of a life of purpose, a life that has you looking forward and far beyond the Mercury, Minnesotas of this world.

...for the Present

6:30am.

Winter break.

Sitting in my car with the heater blasting, I welcomed these brisk mornings with City and Colour playing on repeat. The sun had yet to show its face and the waves were small and mellow.

Perfect.

My kind of morning.

I made the early drive to Blackies before sunrise to avoid the clutter of people in the water. Most times I found myself in the company of old men and girls, the mellowest of crowds, the most welcoming of sessions. As a beginner I craved this environment, the kind of environment that said my errors were a part of the process.

Most mornings shared the same routine.

Paddle out.

Sit.

Think.

Catch a wave.

Repeat.

In the middle of my week however, my solitary routine was joined by the company of an unexpected guest so early in the morning.

I look to my right and a wide-eyed girl about the age of 11 paddled right next to me, her mouth splitting to fit the smile that reached across her face as she set her foam board about 3 feet away from where my feet were dangling. At first I smiled and looked away, waiting for her dad to come right up and push her into the waves filling the next set. But as I kept sitting there, my focus kept drifting toward wherever she was surfing.

She would go for a wave, wipe out, and end up right next to me after every try.

I caught my own wave this time and as I continued riding, I couldn't help but wonder where her dad was.

I looked toward shore and sure enough there he was, watching his daughter paddle next to me, trusting my presence.

We never once spoke. Only one simple wave and a collection of smiles.

All she wanted was that comfort.

All she needed was a strong presence next to her to give her the confidence she needed.

As a mentor to girls in junior high ministry it occurred to me that sometimes, all these girls need is a smile. I don't need to have all the right words to say or know the best action steps to take when confronted with an issue. Sometimes all I need to do is listen and be a strong presence.

Sometimes, all it takes is knowing someone cares to get you through a hard time.

I never once spoke to the wide-eyed girl on the big foam board, but knowing there was a girl she could sit next to in the water gave her the confidence she needed to be out there.

As leaders, sometimes all it takes is to simply wave hello.