I tentatively pulled the suburban filled with teenagers out onto I-30, headed toward Six Flags. It was my first time driving in Dallas. Now, I grew up in a very small town. To put it in perspective, you are more likely to see a tractor on the road, than you are likely to stop at a red light in my home town. So, you could understand why I was a bit nervous when I entered that interstate. The following clip shows my exact thoughts upon entering.

Also in that clip, the look on Ron Burgundy's face is a mirror image of my face when I got on that ramp. Riding shotgun for our excursion was a young man named Cole. Cole was the DJ for our youth trip. Cole was wearing full denim with white converses. He was also playing unique music, much like his clothes. The unique music included the cardiac king Van Halen. This song was the song that was playing as I entered I-30.

I can't make these things up. This actually happened. So, one could say that I was a little stressed out. As we got on the highway, I looked to my left and gazed on in awe as a white Prius flew by. I mean that Prius really dusted us. I couldn't believe that happened. It hurt my soul as a red-blooded Texan to allow that to occur. The boys in the back seat taunted me with: "Bro, I'm pretty sure my grandma drives a car like that." The whole car erupted with laughter. All I could do was keep my eyes on the road, and look out for the next Prius.

So, eventually, we got into a rhythm on I-30. We were moving along at a good pace. We took the exit toward Six Flags, and one of my young men, Brady, stated very matter-of-factly, "That was stressful." I couldn't agree more.

Brady hit the nail on the head. That was stressful. We could have died a thousand times, and not just from the other cars. I'm pretty sure Cole's music nearly gave me a heart attack. While Brady was just talking about that situation, my thoughts were wandering to all things that had happened that summer. It was stressful being a youth intern. I was responsible for around 25 kids, who all tried, as good teenagers do, to increase my stress level at every turn.

We had a fun summer, though. We had a lock-in. Actually, we had two. We are having one tonight, and I'm not sure my body is ready for an all-nighter. We have gone to a rangers game. We have gone to six flags, which brings me to our next misadventure.

One of the main responsibilities of a youth intern is to cultivate good habits in your youth group. Part of that means not allowing any obscene language or gestures. Both of which occurred from my kids within 6 hours of the Prius incident. Here is the misadventure. The first roller coaster we jumped on at Six Flags was the Judge Roy Scream.

For those of you that don't know, the JRS is a smallish wooden roller coaster. It's a good starter roller coaster for a day at Six Flags. So, as we were about to enter the roller ascot seats one of my young men named Cole (not denim Cole), decided that the roller coaster was way too scary for him. Naturally, I understood where he was coming from. I knew roller coasters were scary. So, like a good intern, I forced him to ride it with me. He agreed, less than peacefully. As we begin to go up to the top of the highest point and get ready for the drop, Cole starts freaking out. He latches on to my arm and closes his eyes. He opens them as we start to drop. Below are the words that left his mouth for the duration of the coaster. "M----------- F-----------, God D-----------, why did you do this to me? Ahhhhh I'm gonna die! S---, S---, S---, S----." That may not be in correct order, but those are the words that left his mouth. I politely corrected him after we got off the roller coaster. Okay, no I didn't. I felt so bad about making him ride it, that I felt like I deserved those words.

Finally, streams of cuss words later, I started to cart these kids home on the suburban. I politely asked the car's DJ to limit the cardiac songs until we got out of Dallas. As we left Dallas, we were on a road that had two lanes. It had two lanes for about 10 seconds. Then, it made one. Unfortunately, I didn't see this. A huge red truck moved over into our lane. Once again, as a naturally cool intern, I freaked out. I hit the brakes and made a few comments about the idiot drivers in Dallas. The truck moved on far ahead of us. After about 10 minutes we caught up to him. As we passed him, I looked up to get a look at the driver. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Brady in the back seat. Brady was wielding double middle fingers, and bouncing them up and down at the driver. I put a stop to that in an instant, but I could barely keep from laughing. That was not acceptable, but it made a good misadventure.

My first summer as an intern has been full of ups and downs, middle fingers and cuss words, and lock-ins and lakes. More than that, though, it was full of learning and love. We had so much fun. Our group grew from 10 kids to 25 kids in three months. Our group grew in love for each other. That time we spent together allowed us to love each other unconditionally. We played video games together. We laughed together. We cried together. We went to the lake together. We went to the emergency room to get seven stitches together. We did everything together. Life as a first-time intern can be challenging. It actually a lot like getting on I-30 for the first time. It's stressful. It's challenging. It's fast. And sometimes you are going to get dusted by a white Prius. It just happens.

All you can do is laugh, and get ready for the next one because it will happen again. So will another misadventure. That is the joy of being a youth intern. Misadventures happen all the time. The fun part is being able to share those misadventures with your students, your family, and your God. After that, everything else falls into place.