When I’m Not Undertaking the Dead, I’m Raising the Youth
Funeral directing is a business of brokenness, where we daily witness hearts that have been broken open by the rendering of death. There’s a toll that the this “dismal trade” takes on our own hearts as funeral directors. It seems that burn out is nearly inevitable.
Like all small businesses, there’s a sense of disorderliness to this undertaking; but it’s worsened by the chaotic nature of death itself. We can be “quiet” for a couple days and then the floodgates open, the reaper is back and our schedules are utterly packed, sapping us of our time, our energy and our love for life.
This week is such a week. And I’m nearly burnt. Some people can brush death aside and be unaffected by it. I can’t. I’m not that person. It takes its toll.
You’d think that in the busyness of weeks like this that the very LAST thing I’d want to do is walk a couple yards from the funeral home to The Point and work another couple hours with a bunch of screaming kids. You’d think that I’d find every possible excuse to put in my 9+ hours at the funeral and then just go home, bypassing the problems and issues of 70+ youth.
Honestly, I’ve never once felt that way.
The Point is a refuge for people like me who are close to brokenness and/or broken … who feel the weight of the world.
I’m writing as the associate director. And I’m sitting in the office that overlooks the entirety of The Point.
I can look down over the youth and see three kids who have been sexually abused and who have just recently overcame their oppressors.
Two girls who has attempted suicide and lived to find hope in Jesus.
Three young teenage girls who are new parents and resiliently trying to raise their children and put themselves through a professional school.
Numerous kids who have been physically abused and have overcome.
And even more kids who come from a single parents home, where affirmation, encouragement and discipline is only half of what it could be.
This place is the anti-big tent revival meeting, “world changing” paradigm that mega churches, pastors and laypersons alike have bought into.
This place is dank, made up of youth who have no platforms, worldly power, or money. This isn’t a big show. It’s not clean. It’s not neat. It will never be a multinational ministry; nor will it ever make the list for the top 20 fastest growing outreaches. It’s chaotic. Small. Unheard of. But without it, there would be a gaping void in our town.
The Point is a community of the broken. It’s where I belong. And I believe it’s where Jesus dwells.
We just launched our new website. Check it out! And subscribe to the site as we’ll be publishing the student’s stories on a weekly basis. Their resiliency, and will to live will inspire and touch you. In addition to mentoring the youth at The Point, I’m also in charge of the content of the website. So, if you like it here, you’ll probably be comfortable being a regular at The Point’s website.