"Ummm, I’m sorry to call at such a late hour. Is there…any way you could come over to the house for a little bit? We need your help. Our son has locked himself in his room and won’t talk to us. He’s pretty upset."
As I entered the house, Dad sat in a recliner, putting on a good face (for the youth minister) but obviously angry. You could actually smell tension in the air. After getting a report from Mom and Dad, I headed up the staircase to coax the teen out of his room and talk to his parents.