10. Please do NOT bring a lot of attention to us.
Not in the church bulletin, not the church site, not for my birthdays, not for that nice thing I did for the homeless—just please, no spotlight.
11. Sometimes we’re just moody. It’s not depression or a “spiritual attack” or “unconfessed sin.”
One word: space. Lots of it.
12. We don’t always know what to say, but we still care about you.
We use less words and we don’t always use them well, but if we chose to spend this time with you, that means we care.
13. When life gets hard, you don’t have to say anything. Just be there.
Sometimes we just get totally flustered and want to give up—but that’s not the time for lectures or theology or super-awesome advice. Bring a movie or something; bake a cake; bring cookies.
Be there for the meltdown, and we’ll eventually ask for the wisdom. We very much treasure your scalpel-like gentleness with us.
14. When we get hyper, we are weird and corny and loud and awkward—so be ready for that and embrace it.
On the third day of a church retreat or when it’s 5 in the morning at a lock-in, the inner-beast might be unleashed. But it’s not very cool and calculated and witty like an extrovert.
It’s all kinds of nerdy and neurotic with a shaky voice and twitchy flailing, as if we’re learning to use our bodies for the first time—and in a sense, we are.
When that happens, please don’t humiliate us. Roll with it, laugh with us and endure our horrible dance moves and bad impressions.
If you do, we are loyal to you for life.