I loved being a youth pastor. Ask anyone who knew me back then, and they’ll tell you how I had a smile on my face whenever I was around young people. In the summer we’d play softball together or slosh down the slides at the water park. On cool autumn nights you could catch us at the corn maze or on a hayride.
But to me, the best youth season of the year was winter because, in New England, that’s when I took the kids to snow camp. We lived in Massachusetts, but for snow camp, I’d drive the church bus—loaded with teenagers—across the state line to New Hampshire.
The “Live Free or Die” state was sure to have plenty of snow so we could build snowmen, ski, or make snow sculptures. Of course, we frequented Christian camps, where we also heard great preaching and teaching from godly people who loved teens. We always took along plenty of other adult leaders, so the outdoor exercise coupled with the spiritual encouragement made the perfect combination for young and old alike.
Although we headed north every winter for our joyous three days, I particularly remember the weekend when one of the days seemed wasted.
It was God’s plan and will for me to have been there.
- You have reached the end of this article preview. This article was published in the Winter 2025 Baptist Bulletin. Subscribe to the Baptist Bulletin or purchase a gift subscription. If you already subscribe to the print edition, sign up for free digital access.
Clint Eastman is a semiretired teacher and pastor. Over 200 of his articles have appeared in a variety of Christian magazines.
