Spring showed up the way it always does out here – quiet at first, then all at once. One day the yard is still wearing winter like an old chore coat, and the next, we’re sending cows out to pasture and the machinery is coming out of the shed to stretch its legs. The alfalfa is in, the fields are flirting with dry enough to plant corn, and the cow’s wind-break barn curtains are rolled up like we’re finally ready to say goodbye to windchills.
And me? Apparently, I’ve entered my annual phase of “weekend teenager.”
Now before you picture anything too concerning, let me explain. We just got back from Duluth, hauling a caravan of youth group kids to our district conference. There’s something about filling a vehicle with teenagers that turns it into a traveling circus of noise, theology, snacks, and whatever phrase is currently being shouted from the back seat.
“It’s a British biscuit!” Why would I hear that being yelled from the backseat of my car? Because my car is full of teenagers. Kids say the darndest things? Well teenagers will certainly spice up your life!
We bunked into our place, and the boys – given perfectly good beds – opted instead for the floor in the hallway like a pack of overgrown puppies. Sleep, apparently, is optional when you’re a teen and running on pizza and adrenaline. We carried on until 1 a.m. before I declared something resembling authority and called for lights out even if the conversations wanted to continue. I’m not sure they understand that sleep, for a farmer like me, is less of a suggestion and more of a survival strategy.
At one point, I stepped into the boys’ bathroom and found a pile of wet towels on the floor that could’ve qualified as a small geological formation. Did they hang them up? No. Did I care? Also no – because they had, in fact, showered. And if you’ve ever been around a group of growing boys, you know that counts as a major victory. The body wash might’ve been applied with a heavy hand, but I’ll take that over the alternative every time. The girls commissioned me to ensure the boys showered before the long car rides just in case riding next to one was necessitated.
Feeding them was its own operation. I carried in more pizza than any one man should reasonably handle. We had leftovers, of course, but around teenagers, that just means breakfast is already decided.
And then there was the karaoke machine.
Now, whoever installed a karaoke system in a rental property and handed microphones to teenagers either has a great sense of humor or a deep commitment to chaos or they brilliantly knew just how much fun we would have! There’s something about holding a microphone that convinces a teenager they are both deaf and performing at a sold-out arena. Volume control disappears. Enthusiasm does not. I’m fairly certain the neighbors got a free concert whether they wanted one or not.
But here’s the thing – beneath the noise, the mess, the late nights, and the sing-shouting – there’s something good happening. Really good.
The best part of the weekend wasn’t the pizza or the stories or even overcoming the B.O. situation. It was watching these kids learn. Not just sitting and listening – but leaning in. Asking questions. Staying up late because they didn’t want the conversation to end. There’s something refreshing about being around people who are still wide open to truth.
One moment stuck with me. Standing in the balcony of the conference arena and looking out over a sea of 3,300 teenagers. It’s a sight that’ll make you think. And it lined up with something I’d just heard in a breakout session – we’re all looking for approval.
You can see it plain as day in a teenager. One small action, then a glance sideways: Did you see that? Was that good enough? But if we’re honest, we don’t outgrow that – we just get better at hiding it.
“We chase identity in different places,” one of the breakout speakers explained. Performance, appearance, and relationships are the top counterfeits for identity that we cling to. They all work – for a while. Just like cotton candy and Mountain Dew could stave off hunger temporarily. That’s the thing about a lie – it doesn’t feel like one at first. A little praise here, a little approval there, and it feels like you’re onto something. Until it starts to own you.
One speaker said it simply: “What you consume will consume you.”
That one stuck.
Because, if I’m always looking for approval, it won’t just visit me – it’ll take up residence. It’ll drive decisions, shape priorities, and quietly convince me that I’m only as valuable as my last success, my reflection in the mirror, or someone else’s opinion.
And that’s a shaky place to build anything.
So where does identity hold fast?
Christ alone.
Not in how we perform. Not in how we look. Not in who notices us. Just Him and who he says that we are.
Because He’s the author of the whole story. And it turns out, the One who wrote it knows exactly where our worth is supposed to come from. Not from anything we can do but only in what He has done for us. Only by his grace and righteousness that he can give to us when we trust him as savior and Lord.
Out here on the farm, spring has a way of reminding you that life doesn’t come from striving – it comes from being rooted in the right place. You can’t force a field to grow by worrying about it. It grows because it’s planted where it belongs.
Same goes for us.
Meet your farmer – Jonathan Gerdes. He and his wife run a farm-to-table raw milk dairy and farm airbnb in Caledonia, Minn. If he isn’t in the barn, you can find him dating his wife, playing with his kids, leading youth group, or flying in the sky. Visit gerdesfreshfarm.com for more info.
Youth Group approved Puff Pastry Egg Bites
One of our volunteers made these this weekend and they were a big hit!
1 sheet frozen puff pastry (thawed)
6 large eggs
¼ cup milk or cream
½–1 cup shredded cheese (cheddar, mozzarella, or whatever
you have)
½ cup cooked add-ins (choose one or mix): Cooked sausage or
bacon, diced ham, sautéed spinach, onions, or peppers
Salt and pepper to taste
- Preheat oven to 400°F
- Grease a muffin tin, or use muffin papers
- Roll out puff pastry and cut into 9–12 squares
- Press each square into muffin cups (they don’t have to be perfect)
- In a bowl, whisk eggs, milk/cream, salt & pepper
- Add a small amount of filling (meat/veggies) into each cup
- Pour egg mixture over (about ¾ full)
- Top with cheese
- Bake 18–22 minutes until eggs are set and pastry is golden
*Make-ahead tip: Let cool, then refrigerate or freeze. Reheat at 350°F for 10–15 minutes (or microwave quick, but the oven keeps them crispy).
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