It's spring, and you're ready for summer to begin because you won't have to deal with school work or that pesky roommate. You're parents are making you get a job because if you want to hang out with any friends from back home, it will have to be on your dollar. Retail doesn't sound appealing and fast food is completely out of the question, so you start searching for internships. An opportunity presents itself at a church that you've never heard of to work with their student ministry. Students are a passion of yours and you jump at the opportunity, planning tons of things that will happen and the perfect scenario in your head about how you'll share Gospel with these kids.
It's finally moving day, and you'll be living with a family you've never met that has generously opened their home to you for the summer. At first, things are awkward. Family dinners seem to be more of a time where you get drilled with questions about your home life, your friend group and the reality of if you have a boyfriend or not. You politely answer their questions and have a slight smile on your face, but inside you're nervous and hiding most of the truth because you only met these people four hours prior to this conversation.
As the summer goes on, you become more open with the family and you start to form bonds with students. At the time, the summer feels like the end is light years away, but one day you wake up and you only have a week left with these kids and this family. You start to reflect on all the conversations you've had during the summer; some about Christ and others about what kind of snacks they want. Some of their stories are ones that you've never heard in person. but you've read about on the news or seen in movies. Learning that their reality is something you've only read about is an eye-opening experience that slowly breaks your heart.
Sometimes, you feel as though you need to stay with these kids and help them continue growing, but then you realize that your ministry is at school right now and that you have to let these students grow on their own now, nobly hoping that they'll remember the things you've told them. The harsh reality is that you leave them with only memories and your number. They may text you a lot at the beginning, but once they get into a routine they won't; the messages will become fewer and fewer. That's when you have to accept the fact that you were temporary for the summer, but they have lives in the city you called your temporary home. It was an amazing ride, but the summer will end soon, and all you have left are memories and a few scars and bruises.
