When I was seventeen, our church youth group was allowed to lead one of the evening services. We came from two small traditional Anglican churches in neighbouring Oxfordshire villages, but we’d been spending our Easter and summer vacations at massive charismatic youth camps, sleeping in tents for short hours in between all night worship sessions and long afternoons discussing all aspects of theology and Christian living on the grass.
I was in the in-between year in that youth group. There had been a big group of Christian teens a few years older than me, who’d adopted me as the little sister. They’d all left for gap year and University now, and while I waited my turn to fly the nest, the youth group filled up with younger members, mostly friends of my little sister.
It could have been an isolating couple of years. I had few Christian friends at school and no one to connect with at church.
But my youth leader saw me. She saw that awkward place I was in and took action…
I’m writing at She Loves Magazine today, about some of the most significant moments in my life, when other people saw in me what I didn’t yet have eyes to see myself. Join me over there? (And then stick around and read some more – these women are some of the most inspiring and honest writers I know).