Sitting on a bus, packed full of 7th graders, at 6 am, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

Let’s be real. Chaperoning a giant group of middle schoolers on a day-long trip to Chicago lends itself to way too many things to write about.

There was the time when we saw “The Bean” at Millenium park, and its unique and multifaceted reflections of us and the Chicago skyline. It’s way bigger than I thought it was.

There was the hour in which we essentially ran through the entire Field Museum, at one point seeing all of ancient Africa in a few moments. Then we couldn’t find Andrew, who we discovered had stayed to hang out with the ancient Egyptian mummies.

After the hurried museum trip, we ate boxed lunches at the waterfront, where everyone had a cookie except my son, who got grapes (we worked out a trade). As kids finished up their lunches, some started playing in the sand, fully clothed, digging holes or running through the surf, which aggravated other chaperones. And then again we couldn’t find Andrew, who we later found by himself along the beach.

It was starting to get chaotic at this point, so I started to break out some Jolly Ranchers every hour or so, just to bribe them into liking me and not going full-scale rebellion.

On the walk to the Shed Aquarium we had a really cool waterfront view of Chicago, but of course I looked around and, you guessed it: “Wait guys- Where’d Andrew go?”

He had fallen behind, burying himself in a planet-destroying game on his phone and losing track of the group.

Once inside, we rushed around again, petting stingrays and watching beluga whales dance. I played a practical joke on Ian and scared the poor kid out of his skin thinking he was getting attacked by an anaconda. The group all laughed, and are still joking about it days later. Except… you guessed it, Andrew, who had again let himself slip behind.

And then the chaos of trying to get dinner at the Navy Pier food court where we almost had enough time to get a hotdog and some ice cream before getting back on the bus home. I was seriously disappointed that I didn’t get some Giordano’s. And guess who we lost there… Yep, Andrew, of course. I’m seriously amazed we didn’t accidentally leave that kid in Chicago.

Like I said, lots to write about.

But as you can tell, the theme of the day became, “Wait! Where’d Andrew go?”

At one point when I had found Andrew and we were catching up with the group, I chatted him up. He had been the random addition to the group- not previously friends with anyone. In fact, he didn’t have many friends. Come to find out, he has been around the area for a couple of years, now living with his uncle, while his mom is in another state and he hasn’t seen his dad in 8 years. You can read between those lines.

A small string bean of a kid, often buried in his screen searching for escape from the painful world around him. He wore his hood up, even when it was warm out. He wasn’t inviting friendship, or questions. He self-isolated. While being in the group was something he did seem to want, he wouldn’t fully let himself engage with it. He had learned too early that connections would be broken and result in pain. Belonging was risky. His self-protection is a well-warranted survival strategy, but it is also sabotaging his ability to find and receive what he so desperately wants: healthy connections.

His continuously letting himself be left behind seemed to lend supporting evidence to his sense of being a loner. Loners are alone. Loners aren’t invited, taken care of, or welcomed. Aloneness was more comfortable for him. He even sat alone on the bus.

As Chris stated in Brotherhood Primer, “We are desperate to be found, but terrified to be seen.”

We do the same thing. How many times do I find myself subconsciously self-sabotaging, solidifying the self-fulfilling prophesy that I’m on my own? Too often. And I see it in the men around me all the time.

Second story (the story of your life in which the enemy works to destroy your true self) is thick. And the only way first story (the glory of God spoken into you at your creation) gets the light of day is when others ask questions and meet me in it, and then lift my eyes beyond. When they don’t allow me to wallow in the second story.

How do you find yourself self-sabotaging lately?

How might you contend for the first story of those around you today?

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Cody Buriff, Chief of Resources and Experiences