But sometimes we just need to be part of a church, a regular member of the congregation who can vent about our struggles. Instead, we’ve got thousands of employed Christians whose church has become a place to perform, rather than a home for radical honesty. We can be part of busy, thriving youth ministries, full churches and yet be totally alone.

A few years ago, I was working for a local church. They were great: a lovely bunch of supportive people who cared about me and about young people. But stuff began to go wrong. Situations in work and the community made the job tricky, and while I was supported in a professional context, safeguarding issues complicated matters. On top of this, my living arrangements were awkward and my girlfriend was struggling with depression, and the nature of our work meant we were only able to see each other during odd, brief interludes.

My work-life balance got messed up and my only real support network were disparate individuals spread throughout the country. In hindsight, I know that there were individuals within the church who would have jumped through hoops to help and support me, but it’s far more difficult when your church is also your workplace: a workplace where word spreads at speeds that internet providers would boast of. This feeling of isolation; isolation in a busy, thriving youth ministry and church; isolation in front of dozens of people every week, ultimately led to me stepping down from professional youth ministry.

The ironic thing about isolation in youth ministry is that we’re not alone in it so many of us struggle with this. However, as Paul Reisbach shares in ‘Alone in a crowded room’ there are steps we can take to stop isolation leading to bigger, ministry-crippling problems.

My suggestion is this: let’s look out for each other, let’s have each other’s backs. The slightly nebulous concept of the ‘youth work community’ is vague and hard to pin down. We see it over coffee at conferences and hashtags on Twitter. But the reason it’s so powerful is because youth ministry is a strange beast, often only fully understood by those invested in it. The people who will most know what we’re going through are other youth workers. So that means finding those you can be honest and open with, rather than boasting about your dynamic ministries to. It also means being proactive in spotting where our fellow frontliners might be struggling, and making the first move in going out for coffee, or if necessary, something a little stronger.

The opposite of being alone in an empty room is feeling fully supported when you’re on your own. That’s what this fabulous community of youth workers has to offer – what a beautiful thing to aim for.

Folks, I’ve got bad news… this is the last issue of Premier Youthwork that Lloyd Kinsley, our designer, will be working on. Let me level with you. I’m very angry at him. Lloyd is, genuinely, a genius. To my eye, the mag looks better than it ever has, and that’s all down to him. He cares about what he does and is passionate about youth ministry, which I think that shows through everything he’s ever done with us. He’s been unafraid to take risks (we’ve put two bums on the cover already this year) and has been an utter joy to work with. He’s off to an exciting new job at Tearfund (boo! Hiss!) and we’re going to miss him like we’d miss a limb. BYE BYE, LLOYD.