At the end of each day, our family gathers to pray together and share with each other “the best part of the day.” I’d like to share my best of today with you.
Today is my birthday. This year, instead of waiting for others to wish me a happy birthday and hoping my family will plan some kind of celebration, I decided to make my own fun and plan my celebrations. So I invited my teenage daughters to get up early and make one of my favorite baked treats, tea scones, with me for Sunday breakfast; I invited our “lunch bunch” group of friends from church to join us at our favorite Mexican restaurant; and I made cupcakes to share with the children in our preschool and children’s church program.
As I walked into the preschool class and explained that it was my birthday and I wanted them to celebrate with me, one little boy spontaneously broke into song:
“Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday . . .” he interrupted himself, “What’s your name?”
I love the spontaneity and openness of children. That little boy didn’t care who heard him. He had no inhibition about breaking out in song for a celebration. He also wasn’t shy about admitting he didn’t know my name. So many times, I don’t recognize or remember someone and I use all kinds of methods to finagle their name out of them without admitting I don’t know. I wish I could just be like that little kid. “What’s your name?” I wish I wasn’t so bound by self pride. There’s a certain kind of freedom to humility. Humility is admitting I don’t have it altogether. I’m not perfect but I’m doing the best I can and I’m in there pitching. As soon as I said my name, that little guy started all over again, singing my name with an extra ounce of robust energy. It made my day. In fact, it was a wonderful day.
I wonder how I could develop that same level of spontaneity, candidness and fervor in my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Life Imitates Lessons
Many times, as I’m preparing a lesson or have just finished teaching a lesson, something will happen that brings the lesson home to me. This does two things for me. First, it makes me take a hard look at what I’m expecting my kids to do. If I’m not willing to do it, then why should I expect my kids to do it?
It also gives me the why behind my teaching. Often, especially with my older students, I will share my struggles or my encounters with them so I can show them, “Hey, this is for real. I’m not making this stuff up. The Bible really does apply to everyday life.”
Last Sunday was one of those days. Coincidentally – or better yet, Divinely planned – both my high school lesson and my Junior church lesson was on evangelism. In both lessons, I spoke to the kids about the world’s dire need to know Jesus. With the high schoolers, we discussed the parable of the lost sheep. With the younger kids, we talked about sharing with others how we became a Christian. I demonstrated the important facts by allowing them to interview me. Our memory verse for the Junior Church was from I Peter 3:15,16: “But in your hearts, set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.”
After lunch, my husband and I went to visit two ladies who were dying and their families. The first visit was emotionally intense because the daughter and grandaughter of the family pulled me aside to talk through some feelings they were experiencing. After two classes and this visit, I was emotionally drained. But we had one more to go. The second lady was also near death yet her family was not so open to our visit. We talked to the unconscious lady, prayed with her, tried to offer words of hope to her family, and left, feeling frustrated and wondering if we had done any good.
In the hallway of the nursing home, her two grandsons sat, waiting for the adults. We said goodbye to them, then one of them asked, “Why are you here?”
I didn’t expect that! I was so tired! Yet the words of the Junior church memory verse zipped through my brain, “Always be prepared to give an answer . . . yet do it with gentleness and respect.” I realized I was the one to give them an answer since I could better speak at their level than my husband. It also occurred to me that they may not be aware that their grandmother was dying and I needed to be sensitive to that. So I said, “We go to the same church your grandma went to. Whenever people in our church are really sick, we want to visit them and tell them how much God cares about them and how much He loves them. We prayed with your grandma and reminded her of some Bible verses too.” Then I went on to ask them about their game of “Go Fish” they had been playing earlier in their grandma's room.
These moments will catch us off guard. However, being prepared doesn't mean we'll be able to magically anticipate those moments; instead it means that even when we’re dog tired and emotionally spent and have a hundred million things on our minds, we will know what to say. Knowing what to say means we’ll know our audience and we’ll know what the Bible says. We’ll also know how the Holy Spirit works in the way he brings divine opportunities to us. We’ll recognize that we’re not alone. He is there to help us and enable us, even in our weakess moments. We'll have the bag of tools we need to give an appropriate answer.
Next week, I want to go back to my classes and say, “it’s true. People ARE going to ask you about your faith walk. They’re going to ask, ‘Why are you here?’ “What are you doing?’ ‘Why don’t you do the things the rest of us are doing?’” It’s just like Sam Seaborn said to Ainsley Hayes in the popular tv drama, West Wing, about crucial decisions made in the White House: “We play with live ammo around here.”
It also gives me the why behind my teaching. Often, especially with my older students, I will share my struggles or my encounters with them so I can show them, “Hey, this is for real. I’m not making this stuff up. The Bible really does apply to everyday life.”
Last Sunday was one of those days. Coincidentally – or better yet, Divinely planned – both my high school lesson and my Junior church lesson was on evangelism. In both lessons, I spoke to the kids about the world’s dire need to know Jesus. With the high schoolers, we discussed the parable of the lost sheep. With the younger kids, we talked about sharing with others how we became a Christian. I demonstrated the important facts by allowing them to interview me. Our memory verse for the Junior Church was from I Peter 3:15,16: “But in your hearts, set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.”
After lunch, my husband and I went to visit two ladies who were dying and their families. The first visit was emotionally intense because the daughter and grandaughter of the family pulled me aside to talk through some feelings they were experiencing. After two classes and this visit, I was emotionally drained. But we had one more to go. The second lady was also near death yet her family was not so open to our visit. We talked to the unconscious lady, prayed with her, tried to offer words of hope to her family, and left, feeling frustrated and wondering if we had done any good.
In the hallway of the nursing home, her two grandsons sat, waiting for the adults. We said goodbye to them, then one of them asked, “Why are you here?”
I didn’t expect that! I was so tired! Yet the words of the Junior church memory verse zipped through my brain, “Always be prepared to give an answer . . . yet do it with gentleness and respect.” I realized I was the one to give them an answer since I could better speak at their level than my husband. It also occurred to me that they may not be aware that their grandmother was dying and I needed to be sensitive to that. So I said, “We go to the same church your grandma went to. Whenever people in our church are really sick, we want to visit them and tell them how much God cares about them and how much He loves them. We prayed with your grandma and reminded her of some Bible verses too.” Then I went on to ask them about their game of “Go Fish” they had been playing earlier in their grandma's room.
These moments will catch us off guard. However, being prepared doesn't mean we'll be able to magically anticipate those moments; instead it means that even when we’re dog tired and emotionally spent and have a hundred million things on our minds, we will know what to say. Knowing what to say means we’ll know our audience and we’ll know what the Bible says. We’ll also know how the Holy Spirit works in the way he brings divine opportunities to us. We’ll recognize that we’re not alone. He is there to help us and enable us, even in our weakess moments. We'll have the bag of tools we need to give an appropriate answer.
Next week, I want to go back to my classes and say, “it’s true. People ARE going to ask you about your faith walk. They’re going to ask, ‘Why are you here?’ “What are you doing?’ ‘Why don’t you do the things the rest of us are doing?’” It’s just like Sam Seaborn said to Ainsley Hayes in the popular tv drama, West Wing, about crucial decisions made in the White House: “We play with live ammo around here.”
When I Was Just a Kid . . .
This is a column about teaching children. So what was I like as a child? Well, I have a friend who writes a wonderfully whimsical blog called the Chat n Chew Cafe. Recently, she has been featuring various writers in an ongoing column called, "When I Was Just a Kid." If you would like the inside scoop of how my childhood shaped me as a writer and Christian educator, I invite you to check out her entry about me by clicking here.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
The Creative Classroom
In my last post, I talked about the importance of preparation. My family is much happier if I am not running around Sunday morning, frantically trying to gather supplies. My husband is especially happy since arriving 29 minutes before Sunday School begins is late in his book.
So I try to have all my books and supplies gathered in one place in a plastic tub on Saturday. Today, all my supplies are sitting on a table in our sun porch. As one daughter came through the sun porch this evening, she asked, “What’s that bottle with yellow liquid on the table?” “It’s ammonia,” I said. “What’s ammonia doing on the table?’ she asked. “It’s for my junior church lesson.” It’s scary when a teenager doesn’t say anything but simply walks away from you.
Five minutes later, the next daughter came through the sun porch. “What’s my Jenga blocks doing on the sun porch?” she asked. “They’re for my junior church lesson,” I explained. “O-kay,” she intoned. I hastened to explained, “Well, you know what I always say . . .” “I know,” she interrupted me. “Don’t be surprised by anything.”
I strongly believe that it’s important to maintain a routine and structure in your class that kids can count on, that they know what to expect before they walk in the door. In today’s chaotic world, kids need order. They need to be able to anticipate. Maintaining an order in your class will help you maintain order.
Yet I believe just as strongly in having that element of surprise. Always have something different about your lesson that makes the kids ask, “What is she going to do different this time?’ This philosophy has led me to make my family wonder about my sanity. Well, to be an effective teacher, you do have to lose a bit of your sanity. You need to lose your inhibition, think outside the box and be willing to draw outside the lines. It may be in the form of putting on a bathrobe to play the role of the Apostle Paul, putting baby powder in your hair so you can portray the elderly widow, Naomi, or demonstrating how to play hopscotch so you can teach a memory verse a different way even if your foot hurts for two days afterwards because you haven’t played hopscotch for twenty years. When you are willing to add the element of creative surprise, your kids will notice. Those will be the lessons they will remember because you dared to do something different.
As you teeter on the edge of insane creativity, I suppose it is possible to go over the edge. I still wonder if that new group of three or four kids never came back after their first visit because that was the week I fed my class horseradish.
So I try to have all my books and supplies gathered in one place in a plastic tub on Saturday. Today, all my supplies are sitting on a table in our sun porch. As one daughter came through the sun porch this evening, she asked, “What’s that bottle with yellow liquid on the table?” “It’s ammonia,” I said. “What’s ammonia doing on the table?’ she asked. “It’s for my junior church lesson.” It’s scary when a teenager doesn’t say anything but simply walks away from you.
Five minutes later, the next daughter came through the sun porch. “What’s my Jenga blocks doing on the sun porch?” she asked. “They’re for my junior church lesson,” I explained. “O-kay,” she intoned. I hastened to explained, “Well, you know what I always say . . .” “I know,” she interrupted me. “Don’t be surprised by anything.”
I strongly believe that it’s important to maintain a routine and structure in your class that kids can count on, that they know what to expect before they walk in the door. In today’s chaotic world, kids need order. They need to be able to anticipate. Maintaining an order in your class will help you maintain order.
Yet I believe just as strongly in having that element of surprise. Always have something different about your lesson that makes the kids ask, “What is she going to do different this time?’ This philosophy has led me to make my family wonder about my sanity. Well, to be an effective teacher, you do have to lose a bit of your sanity. You need to lose your inhibition, think outside the box and be willing to draw outside the lines. It may be in the form of putting on a bathrobe to play the role of the Apostle Paul, putting baby powder in your hair so you can portray the elderly widow, Naomi, or demonstrating how to play hopscotch so you can teach a memory verse a different way even if your foot hurts for two days afterwards because you haven’t played hopscotch for twenty years. When you are willing to add the element of creative surprise, your kids will notice. Those will be the lessons they will remember because you dared to do something different.
As you teeter on the edge of insane creativity, I suppose it is possible to go over the edge. I still wonder if that new group of three or four kids never came back after their first visit because that was the week I fed my class horseradish.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Double Duty Teaching
This next month, I will be teaching both the high school Sunday School class and the Children’s Church group, grades 1-6, for my small (100 attendance) church. Now, many wonder how I do this, and frankly, I don’t recommend that a teacher teach twice on a Sunday, especially to two such diverse groups. But, in a small church, sometimes you do what you gotta do.
How do I keep everything straight? Well, I admit, I don’t. It’s not easy even for an experienced teacher. But I have learned some tips that make teaching two completely different groups back to back a bit easier.
1. Start preparations early. Sometimes we can get away with working on a Sunday School lesson last thing Saturday night. Not now! Read through both lessons, at different times, early in the week. Make a list of the supplies you need and try not to wait till Saturday to purchase or gather supplies.
2. Work the Bible Study portion of your lesson into your own quiet time. Since you won’t be able to hear preaching or teaching for yourself, you need to be responsible to be self fed. This is the one time your quiet time becomes even more necessary than usual. If you are going to give out, you have to take in.
3. Do final preparations Saturday. I gather all my supplies in a Rubbermaid tub. I go over to the church to lay out papers and set up games. I purposely get up early Sautrday morning to study and prepare while the rest of the family is asleep. This way, I’ll have uninterrupted time to study and prepare activities.
4. Write out your plans. I use a legal sized note pad to write out an outline of each lesson – the activities I’m going to use and the key talking points I want to make about each activity. I can’t rely on my brain to remember two completely different lessons and it’s hard to look at my teacher’s book during the lesson, especially when I have altered the lesson or when the book gives me more activity options than I’m going to use. You also could use a highlighter to highlight the activities and talking points in your lesson book.
4. Get help. There are a lot of people in congregations who don’t want to be in charge, but they are glad to be a helper. Ask an adult who isn’t teaching the first session to be in the classroom fifteen minutes before the second session begins, giving you time to wrap up your first session, go to the bathroom and grab last minute, forgotten or extra supplies for a larger than expected class. If your groups are large, get helpers. This will keep the entire responsibility from being on you. Yes, you can handle it, but you won’t be so utterly spent afterwards if you have help.
5. Ease off on the rest of life. This is not the time to invite guests over for Sunday dinner! While eating out with church friends sounds inviting, my preacher husband and I sometimes feel that we are so tired after a full morning of responsibilities that we’re not fit for social consumption. Keep plans light. Go home and take a nap. Part of our Sunday worship should be Sabbath rest.
6. Pray. Yesterday (Sunday), I woke up early which was fine with me because I didn’t quite feel ready for my high school Sunday School class. I wanted to study a bit more. As I tried to study, I kept thinking of kids and I started praying. I didn’t get my studying done; instead I prayed for both my classes. Yesterday was one of the smoothest two session days I’ve ever had. In addition to that, two families came that I had prayed for and who haven’t come in a long time. So, try to find time Sunday morning to pray that the Lord who teaches all of us will partner with you throughout the morning.
Jesus recognized that His kingdom lacks workers when He said to His disciples, “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few (Luke 10:2).” So add to your prayer to pray along Jesus’ command to “ask the Lord of the harvest therefore to send out workers into his harvest field (Matthew 9:38).”
Yes, I come home tired. I ought to. Teaching is work. I figure if I don’t come home tired, after two sessions, I haven’t given it my all. Sometimes it’s tempting to wish there were other people to help do the job. I miss visiting with my friends because I’m stuck downstairs for two hours. It would be nice to come to church and just soak in the worship experience without having any responsibilities. But when I stop and think of the lives I’m influencing for Jesus, that I have the privilege to tell classrooms of kids the most important message in all of time and space, there’s no other place I want to be.
How do I keep everything straight? Well, I admit, I don’t. It’s not easy even for an experienced teacher. But I have learned some tips that make teaching two completely different groups back to back a bit easier.
1. Start preparations early. Sometimes we can get away with working on a Sunday School lesson last thing Saturday night. Not now! Read through both lessons, at different times, early in the week. Make a list of the supplies you need and try not to wait till Saturday to purchase or gather supplies.
2. Work the Bible Study portion of your lesson into your own quiet time. Since you won’t be able to hear preaching or teaching for yourself, you need to be responsible to be self fed. This is the one time your quiet time becomes even more necessary than usual. If you are going to give out, you have to take in.
3. Do final preparations Saturday. I gather all my supplies in a Rubbermaid tub. I go over to the church to lay out papers and set up games. I purposely get up early Sautrday morning to study and prepare while the rest of the family is asleep. This way, I’ll have uninterrupted time to study and prepare activities.
4. Write out your plans. I use a legal sized note pad to write out an outline of each lesson – the activities I’m going to use and the key talking points I want to make about each activity. I can’t rely on my brain to remember two completely different lessons and it’s hard to look at my teacher’s book during the lesson, especially when I have altered the lesson or when the book gives me more activity options than I’m going to use. You also could use a highlighter to highlight the activities and talking points in your lesson book.
4. Get help. There are a lot of people in congregations who don’t want to be in charge, but they are glad to be a helper. Ask an adult who isn’t teaching the first session to be in the classroom fifteen minutes before the second session begins, giving you time to wrap up your first session, go to the bathroom and grab last minute, forgotten or extra supplies for a larger than expected class. If your groups are large, get helpers. This will keep the entire responsibility from being on you. Yes, you can handle it, but you won’t be so utterly spent afterwards if you have help.
5. Ease off on the rest of life. This is not the time to invite guests over for Sunday dinner! While eating out with church friends sounds inviting, my preacher husband and I sometimes feel that we are so tired after a full morning of responsibilities that we’re not fit for social consumption. Keep plans light. Go home and take a nap. Part of our Sunday worship should be Sabbath rest.
6. Pray. Yesterday (Sunday), I woke up early which was fine with me because I didn’t quite feel ready for my high school Sunday School class. I wanted to study a bit more. As I tried to study, I kept thinking of kids and I started praying. I didn’t get my studying done; instead I prayed for both my classes. Yesterday was one of the smoothest two session days I’ve ever had. In addition to that, two families came that I had prayed for and who haven’t come in a long time. So, try to find time Sunday morning to pray that the Lord who teaches all of us will partner with you throughout the morning.
Jesus recognized that His kingdom lacks workers when He said to His disciples, “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few (Luke 10:2).” So add to your prayer to pray along Jesus’ command to “ask the Lord of the harvest therefore to send out workers into his harvest field (Matthew 9:38).”
Yes, I come home tired. I ought to. Teaching is work. I figure if I don’t come home tired, after two sessions, I haven’t given it my all. Sometimes it’s tempting to wish there were other people to help do the job. I miss visiting with my friends because I’m stuck downstairs for two hours. It would be nice to come to church and just soak in the worship experience without having any responsibilities. But when I stop and think of the lives I’m influencing for Jesus, that I have the privilege to tell classrooms of kids the most important message in all of time and space, there’s no other place I want to be.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Disciple Making
In my last post, I spoke of the privilege I’ve had to teach my daughter how to teach. Teaching doesn’t always occur in the classroom. Nor does it happen in the framework of a structured prepared lesson. Sometimes the best moments of teaching happen sitting cross-legged on Mom’s bed, working together in the garden, or riding for miles in the car.
One of my greatest teachers is my Aunt Katherine. Over the years, Aunt Katherine has taught me invaluable lessons. Some of those lessons have come through wonderful talks doing the everyday stuff of life. I remember fondly the times I spent at her trailer in Southern Arizona, the hikes we took through the mountains or the year she lived with my family. She’s the one who broadened my horizons about missions and evangelism, who taught me about life in the church, the confidence we can have in the Bible as God’s infallible word. She has helped me sift through misleading doctrines and understand what the Bible really means about key issues of our faith.
I also learned a lot from Aunt Katherine through watching her example, I learned to accept people as they are and to treat people equally. I learned how to show compassion as I saw her reach out to broken hearted woman who had taken one too many blows from the world.
Finally I’ve learned through working and playing together. Aunt Katherine’s natural enthusiasm invites people to share the journey with her. I’ve gone with her to missionary conventions, different churches and women’s retreats. She’s one who’s willing to roll up her sleeves and get a job done. She has a “can-do” spirit that melts away obstacles and tensions from other workers. I fondly remember how she came to visit my husband and I after our new home suffered damage from a hurricane force wind. She surveyed the damage and said, “I think we can take care of this” and off she and my husband went to Lowe’s to buy the necessary lumber. When she would join my childhood family for family games, I learned how to handle the difficult attitudes of other players.
I’m forty six years old and Aunt Katherine is still teaching me. In March of next year, I’m going with her on my first overseas missions trip. We’ll spend two weeks in Austria at a bible leadership training college. Our job will be to cook and serve meals to pastors and lay leaders who come for bible college level teaching. These pastors come from a number of the surrounding Slavic countries. What a joy it will be for them to devote themselves to their studies, not having to worry about the preparation of their own meals or the daily care of their rooms. A team of people from the United States will serve like a hotel staff to take care of those needs for them.
This is no glamour trip. There won’t be time to sightsee all the wonderful sights of Austria and surrounding charms of Europe. We’re going there to serve, to do the work of servants. Once more, Aunt Katherine will teach me and lead me in something she’s already participated in. She’ll teach me how to have the heart of a servant and how to emotionally and spiritually prepare for such a trip. I can hardly wait!
Jesus told the twelve apostles to “Go and make disciples (Matthew 28:18-20).” The Greek word for “Go” is not an imperative in that sentence; it should be translated, “As you go.” As Aunt Katherine has traveled the journey of her life, she has been making disciples – me – and so many others. That’s truly the essence of teaching.
One of my greatest teachers is my Aunt Katherine. Over the years, Aunt Katherine has taught me invaluable lessons. Some of those lessons have come through wonderful talks doing the everyday stuff of life. I remember fondly the times I spent at her trailer in Southern Arizona, the hikes we took through the mountains or the year she lived with my family. She’s the one who broadened my horizons about missions and evangelism, who taught me about life in the church, the confidence we can have in the Bible as God’s infallible word. She has helped me sift through misleading doctrines and understand what the Bible really means about key issues of our faith.
I also learned a lot from Aunt Katherine through watching her example, I learned to accept people as they are and to treat people equally. I learned how to show compassion as I saw her reach out to broken hearted woman who had taken one too many blows from the world.
Finally I’ve learned through working and playing together. Aunt Katherine’s natural enthusiasm invites people to share the journey with her. I’ve gone with her to missionary conventions, different churches and women’s retreats. She’s one who’s willing to roll up her sleeves and get a job done. She has a “can-do” spirit that melts away obstacles and tensions from other workers. I fondly remember how she came to visit my husband and I after our new home suffered damage from a hurricane force wind. She surveyed the damage and said, “I think we can take care of this” and off she and my husband went to Lowe’s to buy the necessary lumber. When she would join my childhood family for family games, I learned how to handle the difficult attitudes of other players.
I’m forty six years old and Aunt Katherine is still teaching me. In March of next year, I’m going with her on my first overseas missions trip. We’ll spend two weeks in Austria at a bible leadership training college. Our job will be to cook and serve meals to pastors and lay leaders who come for bible college level teaching. These pastors come from a number of the surrounding Slavic countries. What a joy it will be for them to devote themselves to their studies, not having to worry about the preparation of their own meals or the daily care of their rooms. A team of people from the United States will serve like a hotel staff to take care of those needs for them.
This is no glamour trip. There won’t be time to sightsee all the wonderful sights of Austria and surrounding charms of Europe. We’re going there to serve, to do the work of servants. Once more, Aunt Katherine will teach me and lead me in something she’s already participated in. She’ll teach me how to have the heart of a servant and how to emotionally and spiritually prepare for such a trip. I can hardly wait!
Jesus told the twelve apostles to “Go and make disciples (Matthew 28:18-20).” The Greek word for “Go” is not an imperative in that sentence; it should be translated, “As you go.” As Aunt Katherine has traveled the journey of her life, she has been making disciples – me – and so many others. That’s truly the essence of teaching.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Teach To Teach
My daughter is teaching preschool worship this month at our church. I have to admit, she was a last ditch effort recruit. Out of the blue, one of our teachers quit without even letting the other teachers or coordinators know. So, since my daughter is home from college on summer leave and was pining for something to do, she got recruited until we could catch our breath.
She’s taught before. During her junior and senior years of high school, she rotated with two other ladies in the Primary Sunday School class. But preschoolers are a new group for her, one with which she isn’t totally comfortable. However, she’s doing a great job.
This week, her lesson was on Ruth and Naomi, how Ruth was kind to Naomi. With her eyes crinkling into her characteristic smile, she told me, “I still remember when you taught that lesson. It was the first time I had even seen barley.” I had bought barley to show my class the grain Ruth gleaned. Later that week, I used the leftover barley to make barley soup for my family.
“Do I need to stick with barley?” she asked, “And what can I use for a healthy snack this week that would tie to the lesson?” We talked about how preschoolers wouldn’t catch the significance of barley – they wouldn’t care if it was barley or Cheerios. The focus of the lesson was Ruth picked up grain so she and Naomi could stay alive. Katherine decided she would spread a large clean sheet on the ground and sprinkle it with Cheerios, letting the kids pick up the Cheerios and put in their own paper cup for their snack, all the while telling the story of how Ruth picked up grain for Naomi.
Saturday morning, my girls joined me sitting crosslegged on my bed, with the dog in between us for a girl powwow. Katherine said, “I’m still not happy with my lesson.” She got her book, asked me how to handle certain activities considering the age and personalities of certain kids, and how she should organize the lesson. Actually, she did most of the talking, coming to conclusions on her own with just a little input from me on how kids that age would respond. Finally, she said, “I know what I could do! As the kids are picking up Cheerios, I could encourage them to leave some Cheerios for the poor people, just like they did in Bible times.” Now, even as a long time curriculum writer, I had not thought of that one. That is a good idea.
I was about to bust! My mother taught me how to teach; now I had the privilege of teaching my daughter how to teach. We were fulfilling 2 Timothy 2:2 which tells us to teach faithful men who will be able to teach others also. As teachers, we teach not just to enable our students to learn; we want to teach them so well, that some day, they will replace us as teachers.
She’s taught before. During her junior and senior years of high school, she rotated with two other ladies in the Primary Sunday School class. But preschoolers are a new group for her, one with which she isn’t totally comfortable. However, she’s doing a great job.
This week, her lesson was on Ruth and Naomi, how Ruth was kind to Naomi. With her eyes crinkling into her characteristic smile, she told me, “I still remember when you taught that lesson. It was the first time I had even seen barley.” I had bought barley to show my class the grain Ruth gleaned. Later that week, I used the leftover barley to make barley soup for my family.
“Do I need to stick with barley?” she asked, “And what can I use for a healthy snack this week that would tie to the lesson?” We talked about how preschoolers wouldn’t catch the significance of barley – they wouldn’t care if it was barley or Cheerios. The focus of the lesson was Ruth picked up grain so she and Naomi could stay alive. Katherine decided she would spread a large clean sheet on the ground and sprinkle it with Cheerios, letting the kids pick up the Cheerios and put in their own paper cup for their snack, all the while telling the story of how Ruth picked up grain for Naomi.
Saturday morning, my girls joined me sitting crosslegged on my bed, with the dog in between us for a girl powwow. Katherine said, “I’m still not happy with my lesson.” She got her book, asked me how to handle certain activities considering the age and personalities of certain kids, and how she should organize the lesson. Actually, she did most of the talking, coming to conclusions on her own with just a little input from me on how kids that age would respond. Finally, she said, “I know what I could do! As the kids are picking up Cheerios, I could encourage them to leave some Cheerios for the poor people, just like they did in Bible times.” Now, even as a long time curriculum writer, I had not thought of that one. That is a good idea.
I was about to bust! My mother taught me how to teach; now I had the privilege of teaching my daughter how to teach. We were fulfilling 2 Timothy 2:2 which tells us to teach faithful men who will be able to teach others also. As teachers, we teach not just to enable our students to learn; we want to teach them so well, that some day, they will replace us as teachers.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Failure
When I first began to teach, I was so uptight. My greatest fear, I explained to others, was knowing how to discipline the children. The truth was, I was afraid of losing control.
A Sunday School teacher has limits on what discipline to use. We can’t spank. We’re afraid to speak too firmly to kids because they may never come back again. We certainly can’t deny them snack. (Oh, horrors!) Yet, if we’re too lenient, one child can disrupt an entire class and keep a teacher from imparting God’s precious Word to these little ones. What’s a teacher to do?
However, no one told me of this delicate balance. I just wanted kids to sit primly and properly at my table and listen to my words of wisdom as directed in my teacher’s book. With three rowdy boys in my Sunday School class of first and second graders, that was a dream gone by the wayside.
My mentor/mother loaned me the book, “Logical Consequences” by Rudolph Dreikurs (an excellent book, by the way) and taught me about time-outs. With renewed vigor, I went fortified to my next class with my new enlightenment on containing children. With the first sign of inattentiveness, I zapped one boy in the corner. Someone else did some seemingly horrible violation; he was relegated to Corner #2. My third rowdy boy dared to cross the line of my strict expectations and trudged, head down, to Corner #3. (Boys, I still remember your names. If you happen upon this blog and have suffered lifelong emotional trauma because your Sunday School teacher put you in the corner for something stupid like grabbing your tablemate’s scissors, please, oh please forgive me! I was so new in this teaching thing!)
“I’ve got one corner left,” I declared to the two remaining girls, “Who is going to be next?” You can only begin to imagine the not-so-peaceful silence that fell upon that room. One little girl, eyes round with awe and fear, told her parents the whole incredible story on the way home from church. “I’m not sure what we did, but Miss Karen sure was mad.” The parents laughed. (I remember your name too. I hope your parents’ laughter diffused the emotional blow to your self image.)
Today, I cringe when I think back on that day. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe any Sunday School superintendent in their right mind would ever let someone who was grouchier then a person with tight underwear continue teaching. I can’t believe that I didn’t just quit and vow never to teach again when I realized how petty I was.
Most adults don’t parade their mistakes on blog sites. Yet all of us have had moments of failure. All of us have made mistakes, mistakes that sometimes hurt others. When we realize the depths of our failure, we have a choice. We can quit and decide we’re just not cut out for that job. We can allow our remorse to deter our future efforts. Or we can learn from our mistakes and try again.
I still occasionally put children in corners, but please believe me, my tactics are a lot different. The time out is tempered with love and affirmation. The time out has become a last resort instead of a first resort from an easily frustrated teacher. Part of my problem in those early days was that I didn’t have enough for the children to do. I’ve learned that bored children are rowdy children. I’ve learned to turn inattentive children into interactive children.
The greatest failure is the failure to learn. We have the choice. We can fail to learn – or we can learn from our failures. Only when we are humble enough to learn from our failures will we become successful teachers.
A Sunday School teacher has limits on what discipline to use. We can’t spank. We’re afraid to speak too firmly to kids because they may never come back again. We certainly can’t deny them snack. (Oh, horrors!) Yet, if we’re too lenient, one child can disrupt an entire class and keep a teacher from imparting God’s precious Word to these little ones. What’s a teacher to do?
However, no one told me of this delicate balance. I just wanted kids to sit primly and properly at my table and listen to my words of wisdom as directed in my teacher’s book. With three rowdy boys in my Sunday School class of first and second graders, that was a dream gone by the wayside.
My mentor/mother loaned me the book, “Logical Consequences” by Rudolph Dreikurs (an excellent book, by the way) and taught me about time-outs. With renewed vigor, I went fortified to my next class with my new enlightenment on containing children. With the first sign of inattentiveness, I zapped one boy in the corner. Someone else did some seemingly horrible violation; he was relegated to Corner #2. My third rowdy boy dared to cross the line of my strict expectations and trudged, head down, to Corner #3. (Boys, I still remember your names. If you happen upon this blog and have suffered lifelong emotional trauma because your Sunday School teacher put you in the corner for something stupid like grabbing your tablemate’s scissors, please, oh please forgive me! I was so new in this teaching thing!)
“I’ve got one corner left,” I declared to the two remaining girls, “Who is going to be next?” You can only begin to imagine the not-so-peaceful silence that fell upon that room. One little girl, eyes round with awe and fear, told her parents the whole incredible story on the way home from church. “I’m not sure what we did, but Miss Karen sure was mad.” The parents laughed. (I remember your name too. I hope your parents’ laughter diffused the emotional blow to your self image.)
Today, I cringe when I think back on that day. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe any Sunday School superintendent in their right mind would ever let someone who was grouchier then a person with tight underwear continue teaching. I can’t believe that I didn’t just quit and vow never to teach again when I realized how petty I was.
Most adults don’t parade their mistakes on blog sites. Yet all of us have had moments of failure. All of us have made mistakes, mistakes that sometimes hurt others. When we realize the depths of our failure, we have a choice. We can quit and decide we’re just not cut out for that job. We can allow our remorse to deter our future efforts. Or we can learn from our mistakes and try again.
I still occasionally put children in corners, but please believe me, my tactics are a lot different. The time out is tempered with love and affirmation. The time out has become a last resort instead of a first resort from an easily frustrated teacher. Part of my problem in those early days was that I didn’t have enough for the children to do. I’ve learned that bored children are rowdy children. I’ve learned to turn inattentive children into interactive children.
The greatest failure is the failure to learn. We have the choice. We can fail to learn – or we can learn from our failures. Only when we are humble enough to learn from our failures will we become successful teachers.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Memories
Over the last few days, my daughters and I have worked on research about our rural region in Ohio for a book project I’m working on. Together, we have visited historical sites, gathered information and conducted interviews. I ask the questions, one daughter takes notes, and the other runs the camera. It’s been a wonderful shared experience.
When we got home yesterday from a particularly delightful interview of a couple in their 80’s, we debriefed over root beer floats as we sat in our white wicker furniture in our sun porch. My older daughter sighed as she reminisced about the childhood experience of Don and Mary. “I really hope I have as good a life as they had. It would be cool to do some of the things they did as kids,” she said.
The other daughter said, “Our family has had more of the simple fun than most kids our age.” And suddenly they erupted with a flow of memories from their own childhood:
Making homemade lime sherbet
Birthday parties with a green theme or making bread art with bread dough as a craft activity.
A Halloween alternative party at our house with a Fully Rely On God theme
Playing in the backyard, making chalk drawings and turning a broom into a play horse
Reading Chronicles of Narnia and Little House on the Prairie books
Since I hate decorating cakes and the nearest Walmart was 65 miles away, we replaced the highly decorated cakes all their friends had for birthdays with creative cake decorations like a pink iced cake with peppermints or creating a bouquet of balloons with licorice and gumdrops.
Making homemade Christmas wrapping paper with sponges cut in Christmas motifs and dipped in tempura paint.
I was amazed. At the time, I struggled against the norm of the highly decorated birthday cakes, visits to Chuckie Cheese, and hours of tv. I tried to come up with family fun but wondered if it meant anything to anybody. At the time, they didn’t seem excited, still pining after what their friends did. Now as they are on the verge of stepping over the threshold into adulthood, those memories are rising to the surface. “Those things are special to us now because they were different,” they told me. “If you had done what everyone else did or did the decorated cake thing every year for our birthday, it wouldn’t have been as special.”
Creating family memories takes patience and courage. A family creates a memory by their willingness to do something different, something new, something unique that others wouldn’t necessarily do. I hope when my children are 80 years old, a younger generation will listen to memories of their childhood and sigh and say, “I really hope I have as good a life as they did.”
When we got home yesterday from a particularly delightful interview of a couple in their 80’s, we debriefed over root beer floats as we sat in our white wicker furniture in our sun porch. My older daughter sighed as she reminisced about the childhood experience of Don and Mary. “I really hope I have as good a life as they had. It would be cool to do some of the things they did as kids,” she said.
The other daughter said, “Our family has had more of the simple fun than most kids our age.” And suddenly they erupted with a flow of memories from their own childhood:
Making homemade lime sherbet
Birthday parties with a green theme or making bread art with bread dough as a craft activity.
A Halloween alternative party at our house with a Fully Rely On God theme
Playing in the backyard, making chalk drawings and turning a broom into a play horse
Reading Chronicles of Narnia and Little House on the Prairie books
Since I hate decorating cakes and the nearest Walmart was 65 miles away, we replaced the highly decorated cakes all their friends had for birthdays with creative cake decorations like a pink iced cake with peppermints or creating a bouquet of balloons with licorice and gumdrops.
Making homemade Christmas wrapping paper with sponges cut in Christmas motifs and dipped in tempura paint.
I was amazed. At the time, I struggled against the norm of the highly decorated birthday cakes, visits to Chuckie Cheese, and hours of tv. I tried to come up with family fun but wondered if it meant anything to anybody. At the time, they didn’t seem excited, still pining after what their friends did. Now as they are on the verge of stepping over the threshold into adulthood, those memories are rising to the surface. “Those things are special to us now because they were different,” they told me. “If you had done what everyone else did or did the decorated cake thing every year for our birthday, it wouldn’t have been as special.”
Creating family memories takes patience and courage. A family creates a memory by their willingness to do something different, something new, something unique that others wouldn’t necessarily do. I hope when my children are 80 years old, a younger generation will listen to memories of their childhood and sigh and say, “I really hope I have as good a life as they did.”
Thursday, May 24, 2007
The Unlikely Teacher
I never wanted to be a teacher. My mom and my sister were both Sunday School teachers. My sister babysat. My sister taught the preschool worship. My mom directed VBS. Like any normal younger sister, I did not want to be a teacher.
But we were a family of teachers so everyone expected that I would be a teacher too. Puleease! I admit, I had a terrible attitude. I got fighting mad every time anyone mentioned that I should be a teacher.
So, one February afternoon of my eighteenth year, my preacher called and asked for me. The Arizona State Christian Convention was being held that week in our city; would I lead the children’s session that evening? Any person would gulp at the last minute notice, but as an eighteen year old, I wasn’t experienced in knowing how to say no to the preacher. I said yes, I said goodbye, then I blew up. “He must be really scraping the bottom of the barrel if he’s asking me to teach. I can’t teach. I don’t want to teach. I know nothing about teaching and he calls me last minute to teach? I cannot teach!”
My mother let me rant, then she said, “Stop and think about what you can do. You know music. You’ve helped me lead singing in children’s worship so you can teach them songs. You’ve done puppet scripts and storytelling for me too. You are excellent at just making up stories off the top of your head. And you love games. You can fill in the rest of the time with a game.” She named a game we could borrow from a friend.
Acting like I hadn’t heard her, I stalked to my bedroom. Then God’s Spirit got on my mom’s side. The bible story of Moses came into my mind. Moses had a case of the don’t wannas too. He told God he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t lead the people. He couldn’t face Pharaoh. God’s reply in the form of a verse I had memorized came into my mind next. “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go! I will help you speak and will teach you what to say (Exodus 4:11,12).” I was convicted. If I was going to teach, God would have to teach me what to say.
I came out of my bedroom and headed for the phone. “What are you going to do?” my mother asked. “I’m calling Melanie to ask if I can borrow that game,” I replied. Later I told Melanie the story of my fit and God’s conviction. She laughed and said, “Go Moses!” So like Moses, I went.
It wasn’t so bad. I survived and so did they. Six months later, the Sunday School superintendent asked me to teach the first and second grade Sunday School class and this time I said yes without the fit. I still was nervous. I made lots of mistakes. But I’m still teaching, over twenty five years later. I’m also writing curriculum for Standard Publishing and Rainbow Publishers. I’ve even taught teacher training classes. I’m writing this blog. God in his heaven must be smiling because once again, He has shown how He can change a life through His mighty power and use someone who once said they can’t.
What job is God asking you to do? Are you nervous? Are you scared? Are you digging in your feet? Are you even stubbornly saying “No!”? When we tell God we can’t do something because of the way we’re wired, we’re basically telling the Creator who made us and knows us better than we know ourselves that He’s got it wrong. He made you. He knows what you are capable of accomplishing. He also knows what His unsurpassable power can do through you.
Say yes! Without the fit. Then go and watch God do incredible things through you.
But we were a family of teachers so everyone expected that I would be a teacher too. Puleease! I admit, I had a terrible attitude. I got fighting mad every time anyone mentioned that I should be a teacher.
So, one February afternoon of my eighteenth year, my preacher called and asked for me. The Arizona State Christian Convention was being held that week in our city; would I lead the children’s session that evening? Any person would gulp at the last minute notice, but as an eighteen year old, I wasn’t experienced in knowing how to say no to the preacher. I said yes, I said goodbye, then I blew up. “He must be really scraping the bottom of the barrel if he’s asking me to teach. I can’t teach. I don’t want to teach. I know nothing about teaching and he calls me last minute to teach? I cannot teach!”
My mother let me rant, then she said, “Stop and think about what you can do. You know music. You’ve helped me lead singing in children’s worship so you can teach them songs. You’ve done puppet scripts and storytelling for me too. You are excellent at just making up stories off the top of your head. And you love games. You can fill in the rest of the time with a game.” She named a game we could borrow from a friend.
Acting like I hadn’t heard her, I stalked to my bedroom. Then God’s Spirit got on my mom’s side. The bible story of Moses came into my mind. Moses had a case of the don’t wannas too. He told God he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t lead the people. He couldn’t face Pharaoh. God’s reply in the form of a verse I had memorized came into my mind next. “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go! I will help you speak and will teach you what to say (Exodus 4:11,12).” I was convicted. If I was going to teach, God would have to teach me what to say.
I came out of my bedroom and headed for the phone. “What are you going to do?” my mother asked. “I’m calling Melanie to ask if I can borrow that game,” I replied. Later I told Melanie the story of my fit and God’s conviction. She laughed and said, “Go Moses!” So like Moses, I went.
It wasn’t so bad. I survived and so did they. Six months later, the Sunday School superintendent asked me to teach the first and second grade Sunday School class and this time I said yes without the fit. I still was nervous. I made lots of mistakes. But I’m still teaching, over twenty five years later. I’m also writing curriculum for Standard Publishing and Rainbow Publishers. I’ve even taught teacher training classes. I’m writing this blog. God in his heaven must be smiling because once again, He has shown how He can change a life through His mighty power and use someone who once said they can’t.
What job is God asking you to do? Are you nervous? Are you scared? Are you digging in your feet? Are you even stubbornly saying “No!”? When we tell God we can’t do something because of the way we’re wired, we’re basically telling the Creator who made us and knows us better than we know ourselves that He’s got it wrong. He made you. He knows what you are capable of accomplishing. He also knows what His unsurpassable power can do through you.
Say yes! Without the fit. Then go and watch God do incredible things through you.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
VBS: Have You Prayed About It?
If you were a part of our household long enough, you would soon hear someone ask, “Have you prayed about it?” Sometimes we answer that question defensively when in truth, our prayers amount to little more than “God! Help!”
Like any church program, VBS needs the preeminence and protection of prayer. VBS is more than just a program to keep kids busy. We are dealing with the eternal destiny of those we teach. There are so many God-touched moments that can happen at VBS; conversely, the Evil One will do whatever he can to keep those special moments from happening. You can move your VBS from just another program to a specaular, inspiring week for both students and staff by surrounding your efforts in prayer.
Here are a few ideas on how to weave prayer into your program.
1. Begin your first planning meeting with concentrated prayer. I don’t mean an opening one minute prayer by the director. I mean, have yourself an old fashioned prayer meeting. Pray for those who are planning VBS. Pray that God supply your staff needs. Pray for the children who will attend. Pray that God give you wisdom, direction, creativity, peace and courage to get out of your comfort zone and do something big for Him. Have a time of prayer at the beginning, not end of every planning and staff meeting.
2. Ask non-staff church members to seve as prayer partners, one f0r each staff person. Schedule a time the week before VBS for the staff and prayer partner to meet together to pray.
3. Have a prayer room assigned during the week of VBS. Choose a quiet place, perhaps with background music so staff can go and pray on their breaks. Some of your prayer partners might even want to come pray in the prayer room during that week.
4. Have the staff meet five minutes earlier than normally scheduled to have a devotion and pray together.
5. Have a staff praise service the week after VBS. If people are burned out on meetings, schedule a clean up and lunch date on the next Saturday after VBS, ending with the praise service. Give staff a chance to share how they saw God at work during VBS.
6. Leave a comment on this site to share with us how you saw God at work in direct answer to the prayers of His people.
Like any church program, VBS needs the preeminence and protection of prayer. VBS is more than just a program to keep kids busy. We are dealing with the eternal destiny of those we teach. There are so many God-touched moments that can happen at VBS; conversely, the Evil One will do whatever he can to keep those special moments from happening. You can move your VBS from just another program to a specaular, inspiring week for both students and staff by surrounding your efforts in prayer.
Here are a few ideas on how to weave prayer into your program.
1. Begin your first planning meeting with concentrated prayer. I don’t mean an opening one minute prayer by the director. I mean, have yourself an old fashioned prayer meeting. Pray for those who are planning VBS. Pray that God supply your staff needs. Pray for the children who will attend. Pray that God give you wisdom, direction, creativity, peace and courage to get out of your comfort zone and do something big for Him. Have a time of prayer at the beginning, not end of every planning and staff meeting.
2. Ask non-staff church members to seve as prayer partners, one f0r each staff person. Schedule a time the week before VBS for the staff and prayer partner to meet together to pray.
3. Have a prayer room assigned during the week of VBS. Choose a quiet place, perhaps with background music so staff can go and pray on their breaks. Some of your prayer partners might even want to come pray in the prayer room during that week.
4. Have the staff meet five minutes earlier than normally scheduled to have a devotion and pray together.
5. Have a staff praise service the week after VBS. If people are burned out on meetings, schedule a clean up and lunch date on the next Saturday after VBS, ending with the praise service. Give staff a chance to share how they saw God at work during VBS.
6. Leave a comment on this site to share with us how you saw God at work in direct answer to the prayers of His people.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
My mother graduated from college in 1982. If you are a regular reader and have caught that I have two teenage daughters myself, I can imagine your brain is kicking into calculator mode, wondering just how old I am and how is it possible? Let me give you another hint. My mother and I graduated from college the same year. Ah! She must have been an older student! Yes!
My mother attended bible college in Phoenix, Arizona for one and a half years. She got married at 19 and had three babies by the age of 25. That’s what you did in the 1950’s. But my mother has always been a learner. She had polio when she was four years old and spent the next 3 years of her life in leg braces. To this day, one leg is withered and one foot is two sizes smaller than the other. My mother is a hard working woman but often, by the middle of the day, she would need to put her feet up. Always she had sewing in her hand, her Bible or a book. The books she chose were deep, thought provoking non fiction books that she loved to discuss and ponder with us. We never knew she had the desire to go back to college until my sister signed up for classes at our local community college and my mother said she was going to sign up for two classes too.
Each semester she would take more classes. She said that while remembering things was a challenge, the material was easy for her to grasp because she had the framework of her life experience in which to place the content of the college classroom. Unlike many of her younger classmates, she always attended class, participated in discussions, and did the work required of her.
Finally she decided, if she was going to take college classes, she might as well work toward a goal, so she transferred to the University of Arizona and declared elementary education as a major. It took her eight years to complete her degree and she graduated with a 4.0 grade average, receiving special honors from the College of Education. She never actually got a job in teaching but she has spent hours volunteering in the kindergarten class of her neighborhood school. The teacher was delighted to have someone with an elementary education degree as a helper! Now, at 71 years old, my mother is still using her education. She is a literacy volunteer and spends several hours a week, reading to children.
My mother is a wonderful example of the fact that you are never too old to learn, you are never too old to accomplish, and you are never too old to give back. Thanks, Mom, for the life lessons!
My mother attended bible college in Phoenix, Arizona for one and a half years. She got married at 19 and had three babies by the age of 25. That’s what you did in the 1950’s. But my mother has always been a learner. She had polio when she was four years old and spent the next 3 years of her life in leg braces. To this day, one leg is withered and one foot is two sizes smaller than the other. My mother is a hard working woman but often, by the middle of the day, she would need to put her feet up. Always she had sewing in her hand, her Bible or a book. The books she chose were deep, thought provoking non fiction books that she loved to discuss and ponder with us. We never knew she had the desire to go back to college until my sister signed up for classes at our local community college and my mother said she was going to sign up for two classes too.
Each semester she would take more classes. She said that while remembering things was a challenge, the material was easy for her to grasp because she had the framework of her life experience in which to place the content of the college classroom. Unlike many of her younger classmates, she always attended class, participated in discussions, and did the work required of her.
Finally she decided, if she was going to take college classes, she might as well work toward a goal, so she transferred to the University of Arizona and declared elementary education as a major. It took her eight years to complete her degree and she graduated with a 4.0 grade average, receiving special honors from the College of Education. She never actually got a job in teaching but she has spent hours volunteering in the kindergarten class of her neighborhood school. The teacher was delighted to have someone with an elementary education degree as a helper! Now, at 71 years old, my mother is still using her education. She is a literacy volunteer and spends several hours a week, reading to children.
My mother is a wonderful example of the fact that you are never too old to learn, you are never too old to accomplish, and you are never too old to give back. Thanks, Mom, for the life lessons!
Monday, May 07, 2007
Dependency
Thank you to all who showed concern for our family over the last few months as we have faced two separate eye muscle surgeries for my daughter and my husband. Jack is recovering well. He obtained new glasses only five days after surgery. Before surgery, he was at the upper limits of prescribed prisms. Our optometrist hoped he could knock down the prism from a 19 to a 4. Jack’s new glasses have no prism at all. God is so good!
We’re still waiting on the final results of Christine’s eye muscle surgery. Her surgery was a little more complex so she must wait and heal a little longer before she is refracted for new lenses. We’ll know more possibly by the end of May.
As Jack was recovering from surgery, I admit that he and I have struggled with dependency issues. It’s difficult to admit the need for help. It’s difficult to admit that we might not be capable of helping ourselves and it’s a greater struggle to let people help us when we may not need it, but it sure would make life easier. It’s also difficult to perceive people’s needs, to help while still respecting their need to be in control. As Jack and I confronted these unfamiliar roadblocks, we didn’t always handle our requests for help or our offers of help in the best of ways.
We want our children to grow up into independent adults. Yet I think we could learn a lesson from our children about dependency. They don’t beat around the bush about expressing their needs. They don’t get hung up with the image problem that adults face that we might look weak or stupid if we acknowledged we need help. Conversely, I’ve seen children with hearts that overflow with compassion for those in need. There’s Kyle who would sit and talk for hours with his grandpa who was bedridden for four weeks after a motorcycle accident crushed his leg. There’s Katherine who sat and held the hand of the newly bereaved widow during the entire funeral dinner. Any teacher who says the magic words, “I need some helpers” will be almost knocked down by a class of eager children willing to help. Children have the humility to admit they need help and the open arm gift of grace to help someone else. Maybe this is one more area where Jesus perceived that we need to become like little children.
We’re still waiting on the final results of Christine’s eye muscle surgery. Her surgery was a little more complex so she must wait and heal a little longer before she is refracted for new lenses. We’ll know more possibly by the end of May.
As Jack was recovering from surgery, I admit that he and I have struggled with dependency issues. It’s difficult to admit the need for help. It’s difficult to admit that we might not be capable of helping ourselves and it’s a greater struggle to let people help us when we may not need it, but it sure would make life easier. It’s also difficult to perceive people’s needs, to help while still respecting their need to be in control. As Jack and I confronted these unfamiliar roadblocks, we didn’t always handle our requests for help or our offers of help in the best of ways.
We want our children to grow up into independent adults. Yet I think we could learn a lesson from our children about dependency. They don’t beat around the bush about expressing their needs. They don’t get hung up with the image problem that adults face that we might look weak or stupid if we acknowledged we need help. Conversely, I’ve seen children with hearts that overflow with compassion for those in need. There’s Kyle who would sit and talk for hours with his grandpa who was bedridden for four weeks after a motorcycle accident crushed his leg. There’s Katherine who sat and held the hand of the newly bereaved widow during the entire funeral dinner. Any teacher who says the magic words, “I need some helpers” will be almost knocked down by a class of eager children willing to help. Children have the humility to admit they need help and the open arm gift of grace to help someone else. Maybe this is one more area where Jesus perceived that we need to become like little children.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
I Got a Hug from God This Morning!
I was in a blue funk this morning. That’s what our family calls temporary depression. I felt like I wasn’t important, no one loved me, I was good only for other people’s conveniences and then I was cast aside like a used paper towel. As I walked back from the post office this morning, I felt lower than low. “Does anyone care about me?” I whined to God.
Sometimes God has a way of splashing cold water in our faces to wake us up and see the truth plainly. Other times, He reaches out when one great Divine Hug through the love of His people. As I walked in the house, my husband handed the phone to me. A lady from our church was on the phone asking if she could bring dinner over to us tonight, saying, “I know it’s been a tough week for your family.” I checked my email. Someone had left a sweet comment on one of my blogs, telling of the influence I had been in her life. As I was reading her note, the phone rang. Another church member asked if she could bring some doughnuts over to our family, just “cuz. I don't think this lady knows that doughnuts are my favorite sweet treat.
You have to realize - since my husband's eye surgery, we’ve had very little contact with people over the last week. Many people have offered us transportation but we have not had any visitors or offers of food for the entire week. That’s why I figure those three expressions of love came at just the right moment for me.
So when God brings a name before you and couples it with an idea for a kind deed, act! Do it! You may never know what’s going on in that person’s life. Whether it’s a child in your class, an elderly widow in your church, or a neighbor across the street, they may have needs you don’t even know about and they mnay not necessarily be material needs only. I am perfectly capable of fixing dinner tonight. Instead, they, like me this morning, may just need to know there’s someone out there who loves them, some who needs a hug from God.
Sometimes God has a way of splashing cold water in our faces to wake us up and see the truth plainly. Other times, He reaches out when one great Divine Hug through the love of His people. As I walked in the house, my husband handed the phone to me. A lady from our church was on the phone asking if she could bring dinner over to us tonight, saying, “I know it’s been a tough week for your family.” I checked my email. Someone had left a sweet comment on one of my blogs, telling of the influence I had been in her life. As I was reading her note, the phone rang. Another church member asked if she could bring some doughnuts over to our family, just “cuz. I don't think this lady knows that doughnuts are my favorite sweet treat.
You have to realize - since my husband's eye surgery, we’ve had very little contact with people over the last week. Many people have offered us transportation but we have not had any visitors or offers of food for the entire week. That’s why I figure those three expressions of love came at just the right moment for me.
So when God brings a name before you and couples it with an idea for a kind deed, act! Do it! You may never know what’s going on in that person’s life. Whether it’s a child in your class, an elderly widow in your church, or a neighbor across the street, they may have needs you don’t even know about and they mnay not necessarily be material needs only. I am perfectly capable of fixing dinner tonight. Instead, they, like me this morning, may just need to know there’s someone out there who loves them, some who needs a hug from God.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Trailblazers
When I was a teenager, my family often took day hikes into the foothills surrounding the Tucson, Arizona dessert. We would start early in the morning so we could reach higher elevations before the desert heat settled over the valleys below. Ever the eager child, I would sometimes forge ahead of the rest of the group. I experienced the meaning of the word trailblazer, for often in those early morning hours, my body would break through cobwebs strung across the narrow trail. I could also call back to the others to tell them what wonderful vistas lay ahead.
This past week, I have taken the roll of trailblazer for my daughter. As I mentioned in a recent post, she had eye surgery to help correct a genetic eye defect. I have this same defect and had the same surgery three years ago. The surgery is brand new, in fact, when I had surgery, the procedure had just come out of the beta stage. The results of my surgery were above and beyond what even the doctors had hoped for. My visual acuity doubled. Daily headaches I have experienced all my life vanished. My night vision increased enough that I no longer have to depend on others or a white cane after dark.
Several posts earlier, I wrote of the emotion I felt when my daughter entered the surgical unit as a baby. This time, I can honestly say, I felt no fear and no anxiety for Christine. Neither did she. Why? I had been through the surgery. I knew what would happen. I knew what to expect. And I knew, to use a well used turn of phrase, the gain was worth the pain. Over the last two weeks, she and I have been able to compare notes on our mutual recoveries. I know what questions to ask her about what she is seeing. I am able to be compassionate with her because I know, oh I know, how scratchy and uncomfortable and how downright painful this recovery period can be and I can tell her what will help get her through. Several times Christine has expressed gratitude that I have gone before her, how that has made the process so much easier for her.
Several days after surgery and, not lost on me, several days after Easter, that familiar emotional wave of new comprehension hit me once again. Jesus has gone before us through the jowls of death, to burst forth on the other side to new life. He is victorious over death. He has suffered, oh, so terribly. He can identify with any suffering we might face. He can confidently lead us through because He’s been there, He’s done it, and He overcame it. There is indeed life on the other side of the grave and He’ll lead us there, reassuring us at every step.
“Therefore,” says the writer of Hebrews, “since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus, the son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess (Hebrew 4:14).”
As teachers, we are trailblazers for our children. We teach the sound doctrine of the Word of God. We teach through our experiences by showing them through our lives how we have broken through the cobwebs and entanglements of life to put into practice the teaching of Christ. We mentor the children God has put us in charge of, letting them know with confidence that God is powerful, that God is loving, and that we know, oh do we know, that He will bring us safely to the other side of life.
As the song Steve Green sings says, “May those who come behind us find us faithful.”
###
Our family would again appreciate your prayers and your patience for the irregular posting of this blog. It's now my husband's turn for eye surgery. While his eye muscle surgery is not for the same condition (nystagmus), it will still be the same procedure. His eyes have slowly misalligned over the years to the point that heavy prisms no longer him in brining images together. I look forward to what new concepts God will bring my way this time!
This past week, I have taken the roll of trailblazer for my daughter. As I mentioned in a recent post, she had eye surgery to help correct a genetic eye defect. I have this same defect and had the same surgery three years ago. The surgery is brand new, in fact, when I had surgery, the procedure had just come out of the beta stage. The results of my surgery were above and beyond what even the doctors had hoped for. My visual acuity doubled. Daily headaches I have experienced all my life vanished. My night vision increased enough that I no longer have to depend on others or a white cane after dark.
Several posts earlier, I wrote of the emotion I felt when my daughter entered the surgical unit as a baby. This time, I can honestly say, I felt no fear and no anxiety for Christine. Neither did she. Why? I had been through the surgery. I knew what would happen. I knew what to expect. And I knew, to use a well used turn of phrase, the gain was worth the pain. Over the last two weeks, she and I have been able to compare notes on our mutual recoveries. I know what questions to ask her about what she is seeing. I am able to be compassionate with her because I know, oh I know, how scratchy and uncomfortable and how downright painful this recovery period can be and I can tell her what will help get her through. Several times Christine has expressed gratitude that I have gone before her, how that has made the process so much easier for her.
Several days after surgery and, not lost on me, several days after Easter, that familiar emotional wave of new comprehension hit me once again. Jesus has gone before us through the jowls of death, to burst forth on the other side to new life. He is victorious over death. He has suffered, oh, so terribly. He can identify with any suffering we might face. He can confidently lead us through because He’s been there, He’s done it, and He overcame it. There is indeed life on the other side of the grave and He’ll lead us there, reassuring us at every step.
“Therefore,” says the writer of Hebrews, “since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus, the son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess (Hebrew 4:14).”
As teachers, we are trailblazers for our children. We teach the sound doctrine of the Word of God. We teach through our experiences by showing them through our lives how we have broken through the cobwebs and entanglements of life to put into practice the teaching of Christ. We mentor the children God has put us in charge of, letting them know with confidence that God is powerful, that God is loving, and that we know, oh do we know, that He will bring us safely to the other side of life.
As the song Steve Green sings says, “May those who come behind us find us faithful.”
###
Our family would again appreciate your prayers and your patience for the irregular posting of this blog. It's now my husband's turn for eye surgery. While his eye muscle surgery is not for the same condition (nystagmus), it will still be the same procedure. His eyes have slowly misalligned over the years to the point that heavy prisms no longer him in brining images together. I look forward to what new concepts God will bring my way this time!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Hero of Virginia Tech
Our kids need heroes, we are told. I remember listening to a keynote address at a writer’s conference years ago by a children’s editor of a well known publishing company. “Our children today need two things,” she told us, “And you need to include these two things in what you write for children. Children of today need hope and they need heroes.”
Yet, what is the definition of a hero? For many children, a rock star, athlete or Hollywood actor typecasts the image of a hero. They are someone the child looks up to, someone the child dreams of becoming. After the terrorist attacks, the term “Hero” was lifted to a new level as we lauded those who gave their lives to save others.
This week, the children of our world can see another kind of hero. When the gunman of Virginia Tech started his rampage through Norris Hall, Liviu Librescu, an elderly professor, barred the door with his body so students could escape out a window before Librescu was shot to death through the door. Dennis Miller describes how Librescu, a Holocaust survivor, “saw the face of evil” at 12 years old when he was taken to a concentration camp and when he saw that same “dead shark” look of evil again on Monday, April 16th, he walked toward it and tried to stop it.
That is the essence of a hero. Someone who is willing to walk toward the face of evil in order to stop it so others might be saved. As teachers, we stop evil in many different ways. We teach children the wisdom of God so they can live righteous lives. We teach them how to stand up in their souls against the forces of evil they face on every side. We teach them how to conquer the temptations of evil within their own being. And if necessary, like Librescu, we stand in the way of evil, even walking toward it so they may be safe.
As church leaders, we take one giant step further. We point them to the Ultimate Hero who saw the face of evil, walked toward it in His Incarnation, and stretched out His arms at Calvary to stop it forever – so that we could escape into eternal life.
Yet, what is the definition of a hero? For many children, a rock star, athlete or Hollywood actor typecasts the image of a hero. They are someone the child looks up to, someone the child dreams of becoming. After the terrorist attacks, the term “Hero” was lifted to a new level as we lauded those who gave their lives to save others.
This week, the children of our world can see another kind of hero. When the gunman of Virginia Tech started his rampage through Norris Hall, Liviu Librescu, an elderly professor, barred the door with his body so students could escape out a window before Librescu was shot to death through the door. Dennis Miller describes how Librescu, a Holocaust survivor, “saw the face of evil” at 12 years old when he was taken to a concentration camp and when he saw that same “dead shark” look of evil again on Monday, April 16th, he walked toward it and tried to stop it.
That is the essence of a hero. Someone who is willing to walk toward the face of evil in order to stop it so others might be saved. As teachers, we stop evil in many different ways. We teach children the wisdom of God so they can live righteous lives. We teach them how to stand up in their souls against the forces of evil they face on every side. We teach them how to conquer the temptations of evil within their own being. And if necessary, like Librescu, we stand in the way of evil, even walking toward it so they may be safe.
As church leaders, we take one giant step further. We point them to the Ultimate Hero who saw the face of evil, walked toward it in His Incarnation, and stretched out His arms at Calvary to stop it forever – so that we could escape into eternal life.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Teaching the Troubled Child
The educational community reeled this week from the news of the massacre of 32 people at Virginia Tech University in Blacksburg, Virginia. The lone gunman was a student some describe as “troubled” and a loner.
Many teachers can describe students they know as “troubled.” And any teacher can recount the frustration they feel on how to reach out to the student who doesn’t seem to fit in. I can only begin to imagine that any teacher who remembers having this gunman in their classroom is berating themselves this week, asking “How could I have helped more? What could I have done to make a difference in this young man’s life so this didn’t have to happen?” My heart goes out to the victims, their families and friends. Yet my heart bleeds for these teachers.
You see, teachers are not merely informers. We don’t just drill holes in kids’ heads and insert useful or trivial information. We are disciplers. We are mentors. We inform and inspire. As much as we may want to shape lives with knowledge and discovery, let’s face it. Our students will remember us for more than just what we said. They will remember us for what we did. They will remember if we took interest in them, if, as Nikki Giovanni said, we encouraged them that “we are better than we think and not quite what we want to be. We are alive to the imaginations and the possibilities.”
Yet the frustration comes when a conscientious teacher sees the warnings signs and tries to reach out to no avail. When Lucinda Roy, a professor at Virginia Tech saw the troubled writing of the gunman, she worked with him privately. She referred him for counseling. Yet it wasn’t enough.
I hope today Dr. Roy isn’t berating herself for not doing enough. As a teacher, under the confines of the system, she did what she could. Our students still have free will to make choices; our job is to offer them alternatives in their choices, to show the hurting and troubled child that there is a way out of the hole to live a productive and fulfilling life. This tragedy offers teachers, especially those in the church setting to reassess those they teach and to resolve to make an extra effort to put a virtual arm around the forgotten child. But once we’ve done that, we need to be content that we’ve been faithful to our educational call. While there will be heartaches, like the Virginia Tech murderer, there will also be successes. We may never know of them, but there will always be successes.
Many teachers can describe students they know as “troubled.” And any teacher can recount the frustration they feel on how to reach out to the student who doesn’t seem to fit in. I can only begin to imagine that any teacher who remembers having this gunman in their classroom is berating themselves this week, asking “How could I have helped more? What could I have done to make a difference in this young man’s life so this didn’t have to happen?” My heart goes out to the victims, their families and friends. Yet my heart bleeds for these teachers.
You see, teachers are not merely informers. We don’t just drill holes in kids’ heads and insert useful or trivial information. We are disciplers. We are mentors. We inform and inspire. As much as we may want to shape lives with knowledge and discovery, let’s face it. Our students will remember us for more than just what we said. They will remember us for what we did. They will remember if we took interest in them, if, as Nikki Giovanni said, we encouraged them that “we are better than we think and not quite what we want to be. We are alive to the imaginations and the possibilities.”
Yet the frustration comes when a conscientious teacher sees the warnings signs and tries to reach out to no avail. When Lucinda Roy, a professor at Virginia Tech saw the troubled writing of the gunman, she worked with him privately. She referred him for counseling. Yet it wasn’t enough.
I hope today Dr. Roy isn’t berating herself for not doing enough. As a teacher, under the confines of the system, she did what she could. Our students still have free will to make choices; our job is to offer them alternatives in their choices, to show the hurting and troubled child that there is a way out of the hole to live a productive and fulfilling life. This tragedy offers teachers, especially those in the church setting to reassess those they teach and to resolve to make an extra effort to put a virtual arm around the forgotten child. But once we’ve done that, we need to be content that we’ve been faithful to our educational call. While there will be heartaches, like the Virginia Tech murderer, there will also be successes. We may never know of them, but there will always be successes.
Monday, April 16, 2007
When I Was Just a Kid . . .
My friend, Crystal Miller, writes a nostalgic column on her blog site, Chat N’ Chew Café. Recently, Cris has written features on different writer friends, interviewing them about their childhood. The columns are called, “When I Was Just a Kid . . .”
Cris’ columns have become a stunning celebration of what God can do with the life of a child. As these people share what childhood was like for them, the reader gets a picture of an ordinary life sprinkled with memories we can identify with. Yet each of these people have become outstanding writers, parents and church leaders. Each have developed into men and women that stand in the gap for the cause of Christ, believers who have not been hesitant to proclaim their faith. I know some of these men and women personally and I know life has not always been kind to them, yet they are strong because they have experienced God’s grace and mercy.
I wonder - when they were children, did their parents look at them and ever imagine what they would become? I look at my own children, now teenage ladies, as one friend calls them. I am astounded and astonished at what capable women they are becoming. I still can’t figure out where my oldest daughter got her science genes from or why my younger daughter, now 17, is sometimes a better proofreader than I am! I am humbled when I hear them stir before my alarm goes off so they can have their time alone with God.
I look at the children in my classroom, the boy who thinks he’s no good, the girl who has one father and three step-fathers, another girl who is so shy she speaks with a whisper, the teenage boy who is socially awkward, yet when he finally opens his mouth to talk in Sunday School, pearls of great price fall from his lips with profound explanations for God’s Word that I had not yet thought of.
These children are becoming too. They will grow into beautiful men and women for God, people God will also use to further His Kingdom. I don’t know what God has planned for them, but God does. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him,” says 1 Corinthian 2:9. I am content, knowing that God’s kingdom will continue to grow because of what He is doing in the lives of these children.
Cris’ columns have become a stunning celebration of what God can do with the life of a child. As these people share what childhood was like for them, the reader gets a picture of an ordinary life sprinkled with memories we can identify with. Yet each of these people have become outstanding writers, parents and church leaders. Each have developed into men and women that stand in the gap for the cause of Christ, believers who have not been hesitant to proclaim their faith. I know some of these men and women personally and I know life has not always been kind to them, yet they are strong because they have experienced God’s grace and mercy.
I wonder - when they were children, did their parents look at them and ever imagine what they would become? I look at my own children, now teenage ladies, as one friend calls them. I am astounded and astonished at what capable women they are becoming. I still can’t figure out where my oldest daughter got her science genes from or why my younger daughter, now 17, is sometimes a better proofreader than I am! I am humbled when I hear them stir before my alarm goes off so they can have their time alone with God.
I look at the children in my classroom, the boy who thinks he’s no good, the girl who has one father and three step-fathers, another girl who is so shy she speaks with a whisper, the teenage boy who is socially awkward, yet when he finally opens his mouth to talk in Sunday School, pearls of great price fall from his lips with profound explanations for God’s Word that I had not yet thought of.
These children are becoming too. They will grow into beautiful men and women for God, people God will also use to further His Kingdom. I don’t know what God has planned for them, but God does. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him,” says 1 Corinthian 2:9. I am content, knowing that God’s kingdom will continue to grow because of what He is doing in the lives of these children.
Friday, April 06, 2007
He Took Our Pain
I will not be able to post my weekly blog this coming Monday and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to it. My seventeen year old daughter is having eye surgery.
We’re so excited about this eye surgery. My daughter has the same eye defect I do. Three years ago, I had the surgery that had just come out of beta testing. The results were beyond what even the doctors expected. After being declared legally blind all my life, my visual acuity doubled. My daughter has better vision than I have but we are still hoping for a significant improvement. We would appreciate your prayers for her.
I’m not sure how I will react on Monday. Watching your own child go into surgery is difficult for any parent. I remember when she had eye surgery at three weeks old to remove her congenital cataracts. As the surgical nurse took her from my arms, deep gut wrenching emotion filled every fiber of my being. I took a step forward, agonizing inside. I thought, “I’ve had eight eye surgeries as a child. I dread any kind of eye surgery. Yet, my beloved child, I love you so much, if I could spare you the pain, I would go into that operating room for you if that would fix your eyes.”
A stronger wave of emotion hit me. That’s what Jesus did when He died on the cross. Mankind suffered from the disorder of sin. God’s perfect Son went into God’s operating room to fix the problem of sin for us so we would not have to endure the pain of death our sin deserved. Then He rose again, so He could offer us the freedom of new and eternal life. He did this for me. He took the pain for me. And He took it for you. Because He loves us so much.
Have a blessed Easter.
We’re so excited about this eye surgery. My daughter has the same eye defect I do. Three years ago, I had the surgery that had just come out of beta testing. The results were beyond what even the doctors expected. After being declared legally blind all my life, my visual acuity doubled. My daughter has better vision than I have but we are still hoping for a significant improvement. We would appreciate your prayers for her.
I’m not sure how I will react on Monday. Watching your own child go into surgery is difficult for any parent. I remember when she had eye surgery at three weeks old to remove her congenital cataracts. As the surgical nurse took her from my arms, deep gut wrenching emotion filled every fiber of my being. I took a step forward, agonizing inside. I thought, “I’ve had eight eye surgeries as a child. I dread any kind of eye surgery. Yet, my beloved child, I love you so much, if I could spare you the pain, I would go into that operating room for you if that would fix your eyes.”
A stronger wave of emotion hit me. That’s what Jesus did when He died on the cross. Mankind suffered from the disorder of sin. God’s perfect Son went into God’s operating room to fix the problem of sin for us so we would not have to endure the pain of death our sin deserved. Then He rose again, so He could offer us the freedom of new and eternal life. He did this for me. He took the pain for me. And He took it for you. Because He loves us so much.
Have a blessed Easter.
Monday, April 02, 2007
It's Easter Egg Time!
This is the week of my annual Easter Egg dying party. As soon as we had children, I wanted to recapture my fond memories of dying Easter eggs at Grandma and Grandpa Sharp’s house. I never liked Easter egg hunts, mostly because I couldn’t see well and everybody got to the eggs before I could get close enough to see them. I have fond memories however, of dying eggs with my grandparents. Grandma would mix the dyes and scold Grandpa to come help the children dye eggs, “We have to do this. We always do this, yada yada, fuss, fuss.” Grandpa would grumble, but as he sat down next to me, I would catch his characteristic closed mouth grin that communicated he was enjoying himself.
My parents lived too far away to continue the grandparent tradition but that wasn’t going to stop me. As soon as my girls could sit at a table, I introduced the time honored tradtion. However, there are only so many eggs preschoolers can dye and so many eggs a family can eat. The next year, we invited the children of the Methodist minister to dye eggs with us.
The next year, I decided to turn it into an outreach party. And so the famous Wingate egg parties were born. Each year, we tried to invite different people. One year, I invited my Sunday school class of 5th and 6th graders. Price of admission: one dozen hard boiled eggs and one friend. Another year, I invited my seventeen piano students. Half of them were from churched families; the other half were not. I asked a few leading questions about why we dye eggs before Easter, and my churched kids were off and running in telling the Resurrection story. Yet another year, we made a cake in the shape of a cross/ I simply asked, “Why the cross?” Again, those that knew were eager to tell.
I feared my girls and their friends would outgrow the Easter egg dying tradition; instead, they have become more creative. They’ve drawn Resurrection messages on the eggs with white crayons before dipping them in the dye. They learned how to blow out raw eggs then paint the shells with acrylic paint. We keep saying we’re going to dye eggs one year using natural dyes like tea and red cabbage. This year, we’re going to wet the eggs, then wrap them in different colors of tissue paper. When the eggs dry, we’ll peel off the tissue, to reveal beautiful colors. Some of the girls’ high school friends eagerly accept their invitation each year, saying, “That was so fun last year.”
We pray as we invite friends and we leave ourselves open for divine opportunities. They always come. One year, one girl burst into tears when my husband took pictures, crying, “I hate having my picture taken. I’m so fat and ugly!” I took her aside and discovered a world of hurt and lack of confidence from a horribly low self image. I was able to share with her about One who made her and accepted her as she was.
This year, we decided to invite the high school Sunday School class I teach and the younger Sunday class, the third through fifth graders. When I told my youngest daughter, now a junior in high school, she said, “That’s a great idea, Mom. That way, when I go off to college, you’ll have a group in the making so you can keep having your Easter egg parties.” With a bit of sadness, I realized an era was coming to an end, yet Christine was right. Even without my own children, I can keep telling the wonders of the Resurrection story through Easter eggs.
It almost seems too easy, too fun. I get to share Jesus and my love for him while doing an activity I absolutely love to do and I get to be around people I love to be with – children and teenagers. But maybe that’s what Jesus meant in Matthew 28:19. The Greek word for “Go” actually means, ‘As you go.” As we go about our daily lives, doing what we do, using the gifts God has given, Jesus asked us to make disciples. Whether it’s dying Easter eggs, participating in a softball team, or being part of a band, we’re to be Christ’s representative, building relationships and showing Jesus has made a difference in our lives. Sounds like a great idea to me!
My parents lived too far away to continue the grandparent tradition but that wasn’t going to stop me. As soon as my girls could sit at a table, I introduced the time honored tradtion. However, there are only so many eggs preschoolers can dye and so many eggs a family can eat. The next year, we invited the children of the Methodist minister to dye eggs with us.
The next year, I decided to turn it into an outreach party. And so the famous Wingate egg parties were born. Each year, we tried to invite different people. One year, I invited my Sunday school class of 5th and 6th graders. Price of admission: one dozen hard boiled eggs and one friend. Another year, I invited my seventeen piano students. Half of them were from churched families; the other half were not. I asked a few leading questions about why we dye eggs before Easter, and my churched kids were off and running in telling the Resurrection story. Yet another year, we made a cake in the shape of a cross/ I simply asked, “Why the cross?” Again, those that knew were eager to tell.
I feared my girls and their friends would outgrow the Easter egg dying tradition; instead, they have become more creative. They’ve drawn Resurrection messages on the eggs with white crayons before dipping them in the dye. They learned how to blow out raw eggs then paint the shells with acrylic paint. We keep saying we’re going to dye eggs one year using natural dyes like tea and red cabbage. This year, we’re going to wet the eggs, then wrap them in different colors of tissue paper. When the eggs dry, we’ll peel off the tissue, to reveal beautiful colors. Some of the girls’ high school friends eagerly accept their invitation each year, saying, “That was so fun last year.”
We pray as we invite friends and we leave ourselves open for divine opportunities. They always come. One year, one girl burst into tears when my husband took pictures, crying, “I hate having my picture taken. I’m so fat and ugly!” I took her aside and discovered a world of hurt and lack of confidence from a horribly low self image. I was able to share with her about One who made her and accepted her as she was.
This year, we decided to invite the high school Sunday School class I teach and the younger Sunday class, the third through fifth graders. When I told my youngest daughter, now a junior in high school, she said, “That’s a great idea, Mom. That way, when I go off to college, you’ll have a group in the making so you can keep having your Easter egg parties.” With a bit of sadness, I realized an era was coming to an end, yet Christine was right. Even without my own children, I can keep telling the wonders of the Resurrection story through Easter eggs.
It almost seems too easy, too fun. I get to share Jesus and my love for him while doing an activity I absolutely love to do and I get to be around people I love to be with – children and teenagers. But maybe that’s what Jesus meant in Matthew 28:19. The Greek word for “Go” actually means, ‘As you go.” As we go about our daily lives, doing what we do, using the gifts God has given, Jesus asked us to make disciples. Whether it’s dying Easter eggs, participating in a softball team, or being part of a band, we’re to be Christ’s representative, building relationships and showing Jesus has made a difference in our lives. Sounds like a great idea to me!
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