Rebecca S. Ramsey's Blog, page 33

Knowing Jesus in a New Way 5: Known in Making Him Known

Welcome to Knowing Jesus in a New Way 5: Known in Making Him Known, our lesson for May 6.

 What an important lesson this is, the scripture from Matthew 28:16-20 in which Jesus tells his disciples to go everywhere and tell His story, teach people to be disciples, and baptize them. As the story script says, the disciples had been followers and now they had to be leaders. They had been sheep and now it was time to be shepherds. But they didn’t need to be afraid, because Jesus says he will be with them always, to the end of the age.

There are several different aspects of the story that you may choose to emphasize:

1. The meeting itself of Jesus with the disciples on the mountain.

2. Jesus’ command to go to people everywhere and make them disciples, baptize them, and teach them to obey his commands.

3. Jesus’ assurance that He will always be with us.

You may want to try letting the children gather items from the materials that help to tell the story this week.

Here are some wondering questions to also use:

1. I wonder what was your favorite part of today’s story is.

2. I wonder how the disciples felt about Jesus telling them to go everywhere and tell Jesus’ story.

3. I wonder how you would feel if Jesus asked you to go to a new place and tell Jesus’ story.

4. I wonder where we are in Jesus’ story. I wonder how we become part of it.

5. Jesus said he would be with disciples forever. I wonder how he was with them. I wonder how we find him with us.

6. I wonder how you and I can share Jesus’ story with others.

Ideas for Our Gift to God Time

The more they make their own ideas into their projects, the more ownership they have, and the more excited they will be about their work. [image error]

10 Things My Unkempt Yard Is Trying to Tell Me

Todd and I aren’t really yard people.

If you live on my street, this will not shock you.

But we do like for our yard to be decently straight, not hazardous to children, and kind of pretty from a distance. So during the last month or so, I’ve been devoting at least one morning a week to my neglected yard, so that it will quit it with the tugging at my pants leg and giving me pitiful glances every time I go to my car, holding out its weedy hands, begging for alms. I’ve spent most of this month spreading mulch because I didn’t know what I was doing and ordered half a dump truck full, which didn’t sound like that much. But when they pulled up to my driveway and dumped out enough to bury my car, I whispered, “Oh dear.”

By the way, I kind of like this picture of mulch because it shows the woods behind my house which look appropriately woodsy and doesn’t show any of my actual yard, which is not so picturesque.

Anyway, as I’ve spent the last month hauling wheelbarrows of this mulch and raking and planting and raking and spreading and yanking weeds out of ground, my yard has been raking me over too, telling me things I need to hear. I thought I might share them with you. Maybe it will save you some trouble.

1. From a distance, clover looks just as good as grass.

It’s green and rustles in the wind, and as long as somebody mows it, it won’t have those little puffy white dingle-ball flowers that wave at people passing by and say, “HEY Y’ALL, I’M CLOVER! DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST TAKING OVER THIS HERE YARD.”

Why kill yourself yanking out clover when it does what grass is supposed to do? It’s green and covers the soil, gives your feet something cool and soft to step on when you’re getting the Sunday paper in your PJs and bare feet, and from a distance it looks like a socially acceptable living carpet rolled out in front of your house.

Yes, someday we’ll kill all our clover and assorted weeds, take a fine toothed comb to the soil beneath, and then sod or spread grass seed and watch a perfect carpet of fescue or zoysia rise up before our eyes. (Or maybe we’ll skip that and go to Vegas.) But not now. We’ve got other things we’d rather spend our time on. Perfection isn’t necessary. Good enough is plenty good enough.

2. If someone doesn’t deal with the dog poop, it’s not going anywhere.

It’s nobody’s joy project, but some gross things just have to be done. Or else you get unpleasant surprises that follow you everywhere you go and make you suspicious of other people’s hygiene until you figure out that the odor is coming from you. Yes, it’s true that organic things decompose and make the soil richer, but do you really want to have to step over dog dirt (as my kids’ British teacher used to call it) for weeks until it’s one with the earth? Deal with the nasty stuff first, even if you don’t want to, so it’s easier to enjoy life.

3. Sticks fall.

Why did the huge branch fall from the maple in my front yard? The tree isn’t sick- it’s in great shape. It was minding it’s own business, living its happy tree life, when suddenly a whole branch fell off.

And while I’m at it, why is there a half eaten chipmunk on a stepping stone in my front yard, with a single chipmunk eyeball neatly set an inch to the side, as if my cat decided to eat his meal in courses?

Sticks fall. Plants die. Cats eat chipmunks- or parts of them. Sometimes bad things happen that aren’t fair. (At least to the chipmunk.)

Life is brutal and doesn’t care a fig about fairness.

4.Don’t let a person with ridiculously long legs decide where your stepping stones go.

I noticed it the first time I walked up the hill with the realtor. Trying to match my feet to the stepping stones felt like a game of Mother May I- “Take eight giant steps to the front door.”

“Mother May I?”

“Yes, you may.”

Set your path yourself. You know best what your legs and mind and spirit can manage.

5. Watch out for scattering seeds. 

Lovely little dandelion, I know what you’re up to. You look so inviting- and who doesn’t want to make a wish? But before you know it, you have an invasion on your hands!

Watch your shoulders (and your mindset) for seeds that others scatter. Decide what you let germinate on your fertile ground. 

6. Pruning is a very good thing. Unless you ask Ben to do it.

A little thinning out helps the sunshine get in. But some people (cough, my middle child) shouldn’t be given pruning shears because they can’t quit clipping. Ask the yellow jessamine on the trellis above my garage. Oh yeah, you can’t ask it because it’s dead. Murder by pruning.

But for most people and plants, it’s a really good idea.

When left to our own devices, we can get carried away with saying yes.  A little pruning in our lives helps the sunshine (and God’s goodness) get in. 

7. Don’t put a peony where a camellia ought to be.

I used to have big watercolor dreams of me flouncing about the garden with my best friend Elizabeth Bennet, both of us carrying baskets full of peony blossoms which we’d arrange in vases in the sitting room as we snickered about Mr. Collins. Now I know it can never be because a nursery man crushed my dreams. Peonies require full sun and I live completely in the shade. But that’s okay. I’ve made my peace and have moved on, mostly. Plus I have a lovely pink camellia which is almost as nice. I haven’t killed it yet, probably because a nursery lady  told me when to plant it and where in my yard it would do best. I love to talk to people who know things.

Find people who’ve done what you want to do and know what works and ask them for help.  It saves heartache and brings cool people into your life.

9. Don’t plot the mass murder of squirrels if your plants disappear overnight.

I promise it’s true. One day I had a garden bed full of hosta plants and the next day they were gone. I’m generally a peaceful person, but “gray squirrel, gray squirrel, swoosh your bushy tail” was about to have a target on his back.

Not really, but it did make me furious. I had bought those plants at $11 a pop and had taken such care when I planted them last fall. I added compost to each hole and watered them gently and nestled mulch around them, taking care not to bruise a single leaf. And then I turned around and they vanished! I was sure the squirrels had dug them up and sautéed their tender bulbs with some acorns in their squirrel kitchens. I complained to my husband and to my friends and my mother, all of whom said, “Maybe they’re just dormant.”

“Well where did the leaves go then, Sherlock?” They think they know so much.

But then this spring, guess what?!

Be patient. Wait. Don’t hyperventilate. Sometimes problems solve themselves.

10. Some green things firmly insist on growing. 

You can fight it if you want, but do you really want to go to war against a plant that can grow upside down in a fifty year old stone wall with not a speck of dirt present, while wearing high heels?

(Okay, so I added the last part.)

I’ve done my share of spraying Round Up, and I might buy more tomorrow, but right this minute I think I’d rather put a gold frame around that weed and tell it, “More power to you, Weed!”

May God make me into a weed like that, insisting on growing into my full fledged self, no matter where I land.

Be a weed. Insist on growing.

Happy gardening, y’all!

 

Knowing Jesus in a New Way 4: Known in the Morning

Welcome to Knowing Jesus in a New Way 4: Known in the Morning, our lesson for April 24.

This week we enjoy yet another goose-bump raising story, that of Jesus’ appearance to seven disciples at the sea of Galilee, as told in John 21:1-24.

There are several different things you may choose to emphasize to the children:

1. The miracle in the boat. The men had caught nothing on their own. But when Jesus was in charge, “they could feel all the fish moving into the nets.” They were shocked to find that the man on the shore was Jesus, sitting by a campfire, cooking fish for their breakfast. With Jesus’ direction, there were fish. Without it, no fish. What does this say to us?

2. Jesus’ words of direction to Peter when Peter said he loved Jesus: “Feed my lambs.” If we do love Jesus, we have our work cut out for us. Our job is to take care of each other. How would Jesus have us do that?

3. All through this story, Peter hasn’t taken his eyes off of Jesus. But as he walks with Jesus, he turns around, sees John following them, and says, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answers with,”If I want him to live until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” To me, this is Jesus saying,”Keep your eyes on your own paper!” or don’t worry about others and their relationships to me. Instead, think about your relationship to me.

4. Another thing that strikes me in this story is that Peter so often messes up, right after discovering some profound truth! He promises that he will never deny his Lord, and then denies him three times. He says, Yes I’ll do your will, I’ll feed your sheep…and then gets concerned about what John is doing. Yet Jesus loves and accepts him and even sees him as a leader, as fault-filled as he is. This gives me hope!

Wondering Questions:

1.I wonder what your favorite part of this story is.

2. Jesus tells the men what to do in the boat and they listen and suddenly they start catching fish. I wonder what we can learn from that.

3.   I wonder how it felt to sit down for breakfast with Jesus. I wonder what you would have said to Jesus if you were sitting there.

4. Jesus tells Peter if he loves him to feed his lambs. I wonder what this means.  I wonder who are the lambs. I wonder what we do to take care of them.

5. When Jesus and Peter are walking together, Peter notices that John is following them. When Peter asks Jesus about what will happen with John, Jesus tells him not to worry about John or others , but to concentrate on following Him. I wonder what we can learn from that.

Idea Starters for the Children’s Make a Gift for God Time 

Here’s some ideas to get the kids started thinking about the work they choose to do around this story. 

1. Retell the story through art.

*Could your class make a 3D scene of the story? Could someone build a boat out of clay or pieces of wood? Could someone else make a Jesus figure to sit or stand by a campfire on the shore? You’ll need figures of the other disciples too. Kids could make these out of clothespins or paper. Could you use felt or paper to make the sea and the shore?

Or tell it through a video! Watch three of our girls tell the story, here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExexTHL9PTI

2. Make a Breakfast with Jesus mural/drawing/painting. What it you had been with Peter that morning? Could your kids draw themselves and their friends or family at the breakfast?

Here’s how artist Karen Lucci imagines Jesus cooking breakfast.

How do your children imagine it? Paint or watercolor or draw the scene.

3. Who are Jesus’ Lambs? Children could draw or make a collage from magazine photos of pictures of Jesus’ lambs (people of all different ages and races)

4. How Do We Feed His Lambs? Kids could draw or make a collage about all the ways we can feed his lambs-ways we help each other.

5. Jesus Loves Me-Jesus shows Peter how much he loves him in this story, in spite of the 3 times he denied him, in spite of anything. The children could draw themselves with Jesus, writing or drawing what Jesus loves about them.

6. Kids could make “Fish stick” bible bookmarks-rectangular pieces of fun foam, with whatever scripture  you choose. Have decorations on hand-stickers, sequins, markers, etc. Or how about beaded fish?

For more ideas to get the children started, see my Pinterest page, here.

Enjoy the lesson!

Love, Becky

“Why Would a Girl Dog Do That to a Pillow?”- and Other Thoughts During My Meditation Fail

I gushed to someone the other day how I was trying to meditate each evening and how great it was going and that she should try it because it’s awesome how it trains your mind to be quiet- and how deeply relaxed you feel at the end, as if you’re a rock in God’s pocket.

What I was thinking when I said that?

I’m pretty sure my friend must have caught me after a really good session– okay, my ONE really good session- which probably happened because I sat down to meditate right after a walk through Azalea Dust Land, also known as my neighborhood, and the pollen clouds I had swum through had invaded my brain through my nostrils and ears and rendered it dead.

You should have seen how still I sat those fifteen minutes.

It was a one time thing, apparently. But I’m still trying and refuse to give up. I’m thinking that if I can ever learn to quiet my circus monkey mind, I’ll finally be able to pray to God without making a To Do list in the back of my brain. I pray best through writing and while I’m walking or driving and that’s fine, but I’d really like to learn to pray like many people seem to do, sitting still, without going to sleep. On Monday night, though, I had to wonder if God might prefer I spend my time doing something productive, like whitening the grout in my bathroom.

But way back in the old days of Monday, I was so full of hope. So I turned off the lights and sat down on my living room couch, which is a perfect site for meditating because it’s not so comfortable that you sink in and fall asleep, but firm enough to support your back. You can “sit and know you’re sitting” which is what the meditation people in my phone say that kind of cracks me up, even though it’s not supposed to.

So I clicked on my meditation app. I chose the one marked Practicing Generosity, which seemed like a good topic, and began.

As I closed my eyes and listened to the lady with the calming voice talk about how generosity offers us connection, and how as our giving muscle strengthens, we learn to let go of the instinct to withhold. I thought this was going so well and maybe I wouldn’t have to rely on pollen brain haze to make me sit still, when Rosie, my golden retriever, walked in and sat beside me. She rested her head on my lap (because she’s entirely too tall- we hadn’t expected that) and started breathing heavily.

Focus on your own breath, I told myself.

In.

Out.

The lady started telling me to visualize a difficult person in my life and to direct loving kindness phrases their way, like “May you be safe.” “May you be happy.” “May you be healthy.”

As I tried to think up a difficult person, Rosie kept breathing HEAVILY, like we were having a breathing contest. That’s when I shooed her off. She responded by bringing me her squeaky toy.

Concentrate on your breath, I told myself, listening to her pad back in.

Breathe in.

Out.

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK.

You can ignore that. You can. You have the power.

In.

Out.

SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK.

I felt her set her toy half on my lap, half still in her mouth, squeaking it as the lady kept talking.

Could the difficult person I was supposed to visualize be a dog?

Probably not.

Breath in.

Out.

I tried to keep breathing as I stood to put her toy on the mantle.

Who would be my difficult person? Did I have a difficult person in my life? I have a few that I find slightly irritating. But difficult?

As I filed through a list of people, still trying to focus on my breath, I heard the dog pad pad pad away.

Back to your breath, I ordered.

Breathe in.

Out.

Focus on the rising of my chest, the sound of my breath entering through my nostrils. Don’t worry about picking a person. I don’t have to name a person. 

Breathe in.

Out.

Pad pad pad pad pad.

Rosie was back, but it sounded like she was dragging something. What was that? It sounded like her giant doggie cushion. I felt the corner of it on my right foot.

Ignore it, Becky. Go back to the breath.

Breathe in.

Out.

The calm voice lady started saying something about letting go of the instinct to ruminate but that’s when I heard I sound I did not recognize.

I ruminated on it.

Stop it, Becky. 

In.

Out.

But what was that constant knocking? I cracked an eye open.

Wedged in between me and the coffee table, Rosie had folded her doggie cushion over, mounted it, and she and the pillow were sharing an intimate moment. Over and over. Girl dogs do that? 

The lady was still talking, “May you be safe. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live with ease.”

I got up and tossed the pillow downstairs, where Rosie and it could have some privacy. Rosie ran happily after it.

There.

Finally.

FINALLY!

FINALLY I WILL MEDITATE.

MEDITATING ON PRACTICING GENEROSITY WILL NOT DEFEAT ME.

I sat back down and had just began to sit, knowing I was sitting, and breathe, knowing I was breathing, when the boy/man who lives with us switched on the living room light and said “AAAAAAAH!”

“WHAT?” I shouted, refusing to open my eyes.

“What are you doing sitting here in the dark? You’re freaking me out. You looked like you were dead!’

“I’M MEDITATING!” I shouted. “AT LEAST I’M TRYING TO.”

“Do you know where the string bags are? I need a bag with a drawstring. Do you think they’re in the laundry room?”

“I will help you when I’m done,” I said through gritted teeth.

Breathe in.

Out.

That’s when the lady said something like, “Every time you find that your attention is distracted, take a moment to see it as an opportunity to strengthen your giving muscle. Be giving to yourself. Be generous to yourself. Let go of it, and as you do, kindly offer yourself phrases of loving kindness.

May you be safe.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease.”

 

If Calm Lady is right, my giving muscle is going to have rock hard abs.

May you live with ease, dear readers!

 

*Thank you to Mike on Flickr for his fabulous photo, via Creative Commons.

Knowing Jesus in a New Way 3: Known in Doubt

Welcome to Knowing Jesus in a New Way 3: Known in Doubt, our lesson for April 22.

Are you as captured as I am by Thomas’s expression on the story tile for this week? He looks so worn and ashamed of his doubt, wanting to believe, yet in such need of seeing the wounds for himself.

I love the way the Godly Play script tells the story from Luke 24:36-43 and John 20:19-29. It describes the mood of the group of disciples gathered-with the doors shut, afraid for their lives. And then suddenly from within the group someone says, “Peace be with you,” and they realize it is Jesus.

They think he’s a ghost but then he eats a piece of fish. He wishes them peace again and he’s gone. Thomas comes to the group and hears the story of what happened but can’t believe. I like that the script does not find fault with this. “And why wouldn’t he doubt? Their minds were stretching, stretching to be big enough to know Jesus in this new way.”

Then, eight days later, the disciples are again in a locked room and Jesus appears, this time with Thomas present. Thomas doesn’t have to ask. Jesus approaches him and shows him the scars, inviting him, “Touch me.” Of course he falls on his knees. When Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe,” goosebumps rise on my arm. Yours too?

I bet children will identify with Thomas, particularly the older ones. They’ve been told so many things and have been disappointed to find out that they were duped. Proof makes belief so much easier. Older children might like to talk about belief and doubt. We shouldn’t be afraid to share our own experiences and hear theirs.

For younger children, this is a great story to have in their back pocket, so that when times of doubt and questions do arise when they’re older, they remember one who loved Jesus and whom Jesus loved who experienced the same feelings.

So, how do we help the children process the story?

If you are in a classroom where all the materials are near available to the children, I hope you’ll consider going along with the Godly Play script and letting the children gather items that help tell the story. It will be interesting to see the connections they make.



Here are our wondering questions for the lesson:

1. I wonder what is your favorite part of the story.

2. I wonder what the disciples thought when Jesus appeared to them in the locked room.

3. I wonder why Thomas needed to touch Jesus’ wounds.

4. I wonder what Thomas thought when Jesus appeared and came up to Thomas and said, “Touch me.”

5. I wonder if  you’ve ever had doubts about anything. I wonder how that feels.

6. I wonder what we can do when we have doubts about believing.



Some Thoughts on Our Gift to God Time:

How can we help the children to re-live this story? Here are a few ideas:

1. Retelling the story through art or drama

a) Kids could act out the story in your classroom. Make it dramatic. Shut the doors. Do the acting out in candlelight. Each child could play a part. The camera in the drawer in the hallway can videotape, if you want to do that.

b) Kids could draw the scenes of the story. The first appearance of Jesus. His eating of a piece of fish. Thomas’s skepticism of the story. Then Jesus’ appearance to Thomas and his touching Jesus. This could be done with markers or paint or three dimensionally with clay. It could be a class project on a mural or done individually.

c) There is also a craft ideas for responding to this story with art here .

2. Digging into the theme of the story of believing without seeing.

a) Children could make a banner for the classroom or a bulletin board that says, “Blessed are those that do not see, but still believe. John 20:29”-or whatever verse or message they pick that they feel tells the story. What illustrations would they want to decorate it with? I’m sure they’d have ideas.

b) Kids could make an illustrated list of ways to handle their doubt. What do they do when they doubt? Read the Bible? Talk to their parents? Talk with their teachers? Pray? Think hard about it? Or they could illustrate the statement: I can ask God for help with my doubt.

c)Children could discuss what faith really is and illustrate “What faith in Jesus means to me.” or make an “I Believe” door hanger or sign and decorate it however they like-with stickers or sequins or markers. We have some foam stickers in the game room on the craft table if you want to use them.

Check out my Pinterest page on this story here. One kind of thing that I pinned several times was the idea of using watercolors on a page from the Bible to illustrate a verse from the story. (Like Blessed are those who haven’t seen and yet believe. John 20:29.) We have some old Bibles that I’ll put out that you can take apart and use for this purpose. It might be nice to glue them on mat board when the watercolors are done and dry. I’ll put the mat board on the cart as well.

Enjoy the story!

Tribute Night at the Children’s Hospital

I thought I knew what I was signing up for.

I knew it would be sad.

How could it be anything else, this annual tribute service at our local children’s hospital? Mamas and daddies and siblings and nurses and doctors would gather together in one room, and we’d call out the names of the ones who had died, the children, the ones whom the experts weren’t able to save, no matter how hard they tried.

I knew it would be sad.

I was quick to sign up to stand at the podium and read names, maybe because as a mama and a new grandma, I know how lucky I am. I haven’t had to face anything even 1000 miles away from this kind of devastation, this kind of terror.

Maybe I was quick to sign up because deep down in the weakest part of me, the most fearful part, the most desperate part, maybe I thought I could bribe God.

Please, I’ll read the names, God. Just keep Your hands off my babies.

But I know God doesn’t work like that. God doesn’t choose to take some and not others. He doesn’t pluck children as flowers for his garden or angels for his clouds-or any such silly, painful nonsense people say.

Terrible things happen. God grieves.

 

I signed up and the evening came.

The Child Life Specialist was in charge of the names. The Child LIFE Specialist -the one who works with kids and families to help them cope with life in the hospital, with illness and disability. She also works with families when children die.

“You’re the first one here to read names, so you get to pick when you go.”

“When I go?”

“Yes, you can go first- or you don’t have to. There are four other readers.”

Four other readers? How many children were there?

She handed me my paper and there were eight names on it. Eight families torpedoed, wrecked, ravished.

“Let me know if there are any names you’re not sure of. I know them all so I can help you with pronunciation.

“You know them all?”

She nodded and then turned to a colleague to answer a question about candles.

She knew them all.

 

I stood off to the side to read over the names. The least I could do for these eight families was to pronounce their children’s names correctly, with the cadence they had chosen when the babies were only joy to them, swimming in swelling bellies, before their worlds fell. I studied the names and called them out to myself, and then checked with her three times, to make sure I was saying the names perfectly, accenting the proper syllable, getting the vowels right. I practiced pausing between names, wanting to give each family time, to reflect, to remember, to treasure.

When the service was about to start, families filed into the small auditorium, most looking down, some grabbing hands of others they knew, giving nods and slight smiles of recognition. Young women stood at the door, offering notes of remembrance tied with ribbons and little ceramic hearts, as well as electronic candles for each person to hold and switch on when their child’s name was called.

As the readers and I took our seats near the front, a quartet from the symphony played, and soon, a screen was lowered in front of the musicians. A slide show began, and one by one, the names on my paper and the four other lists became people.

I knew it would be sad. But I hadn’t expected that as the photos of the children with their names filed by on the screen, that I would be surprised by how typical most of them looked, smiling for the camera. There was a little boy, barefoot on a dock, proudly looking up into the sun, showing off a dragonfly carefully cupped in his outstretched hands. A boy on a soccer field. A redheaded girl in a purple dress sitting for her class picture. A toddler playing with his truck. A girl with a sweet smile, a little wave to the person behind the camera, and no hair. A baby hooked up to a machine, with so many wires and tubes it was hard to find the baby in the photo. Another baby swaddled, in her mother’s arms. A teenage boy grinning in his suit. A set of twin boys, maybe middle school age. A little girl in a fancy dress, first or second grade, her hands clasped, head tilted. A teen ager, with long brown hair and a pretty smile, looking like any other seventeen-year-old with places to go and things to do.

We watched the slide show three times. Three times these children passed by, allowing us to look upon them and read their names and treasure them. And then the adults stood to speak, first the chaplain, then the medical director. A neonatologist shared that he wasn’t on anybody’s birth plan. “They didn’t want me, and I didn’t want that for their child. But there we were.”

After a poem, it was time for the names.

I was up first, concentrating on getting them right, staring at the back of the room at each pause. I didn’t want the family lighting their candles to feel intruded upon by my eyes. I prayed that I had said the names in the way that they said them to their child, that hearing their children’s names said in the quiet of the room would be a holy signpost that would say, “Your child mattered. You matter. To us and to God.”

When my names were done I moved aside and allowed myself to look upon the families in the seats before us. Some held their candles high, their faces puckering with pain. Others held them to their chest, leaning themselves against each other for strength against the rushing tide of emotion.

 

I knew it would be sad, but I didn’t know it would be so holy and exquisitely beautiful.

Like the little blond headed boy on the dock holding the dragonfly, our circle of mamas and daddies and siblings, caregivers, volunteers, and friends held these children up into the light, admiring their beauty as precious treasures of God’s creation. We held them up, knowing that though we stand together on the dock, the waves move under our feet, changing the earth below.

Many thanks to Bùi Linh Ngân at Flickr for the photo, through Creative Commons.

 

Knowing Jesus in a New Way 2: Known in the Breaking of the Bread

Welcome to Knowing Jesus in a New Way 2: Known in the Breaking of the Bread, our lesson for April 15.

What a remarkable story from Luke 24:13-35! Two followers of Jesus (Cleopas and another unnamed) are walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus, talking about what had just happened to Jesus. They meet a stranger on the road who asks them what they are discussing. The stranger is Jesus, but the men don’t recognize him. The two are speechless until Cleopas says, “Are you the only person who doesn’t know?” Jesus then asks him to explain, and Cleopas says that they are talking about Jesus of Nazareth, “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him;  but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” Then he adds that some women went to the tomb and couldn’t find his body and came back with stories of seeing angels who told them that he was alive.


The stranger calls them foolish and slow and says, “Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things before entering his glory?” He explains what was said by Moses and the prophets about Jesus in all the scriptures. Then, as they near the village, the men ask the stranger (Jesus) to stay with them. As they settle down to eat together, Jesus takes the bread, says the blessing, breaks the bread and hands it to them, and suddenly they recognize who he is. At that moment, Jesus disappears from their sight. They say to each other, “Wasn’t it like a fire burning in us when he talked to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?” Of course they rush back to Jerusalem to tell the 11 disciples. 


How moving! The children are sure to be amazed with this scripture. 

Be sure to check out the wording with which the Godly Play script shares these verses. It’s beautiful.


So, how do we help the children process this story?

If you are in a classroom where all the materials are near available to the children, I hope you’ll consider going along with the Godly Play script and letting the children gather items that help tell the story. It will be interesting to see the connections they make.Here are some wondering questions for this lesson:

1. I wonder what your favorite part of today’s story is.

2. I wonder what the most important part of today’s story is.

3. I wonder what God is trying to teach us with this story.

4. The stranger talked to them about how the Jewish people had been trapped in so many ways and that prophets said a little child would lead the people out of being trapped. I wonder how Jesus helped the people from being trapped. 

Some Thoughts on Our Gift to God Time:

How can we help the children to re-live this story? Here are a few ideas:

1. This one is my favorite… Why not literally walk through the story with the children? If the weather is good, I think it would be great to take a walk around the church, and as you walk, ask the children what the men must have said to each other, being so confused and scared and disappointed with what had happened. Help them imagine encountering a stranger. (You could even have one of the teachers play that role!)  You don’t have to talk about the story the entire walk, but physically walking and talking about it to some degree helps the children imagine it and remember it.When you return to the classroom, why not have bread and juice waiting and sit down and share what it must have been like to recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread–and then have him vanish! I bet if the children walk through this experience, they won’t forget it!

2. Act out the story in the classroom. Take photos!

3. Illustrate the segments of the different parts of the story:

a)the two men walking, scared and confused,
b)the encounter with the stranger
c)what the stranger said, that a little child would come to lead the people and that someone would suffer and die so that we could really be alive

d) the meal at the inn

e) Jesus vanishing

f) the two followers rushing back to tell the disciples

4. Need other ideas? There’s a whole bunch here, if you’re a member of this organization. And my Pinterest site is here. [image error]

My Magical, Mystical Moment at Target

I should start by saying that I’m not writing about the instant on Tuesday that I spied a ten-pack of white washcloths on a clearance rack for $2.19. (Though it was pretty magical. I snagged two!)

Nope, I was trying to steer my cart at Target towards the purse department so I could find a bag big enough to hold my bullet journal (which is changing my life and turning me into a bullet journal evangelist, by the way.) Unfortunately for a wandering toddler with teensy tiny pigtail sprouts on her head, I was trying to put my phone away at the same time and veering so much that I nearly ran into her. I apologized, but her mommy gave me such a mean look that I stopped for a moment by the boys’ section to wait for the two of them to walk away. Sorry, pigtail baby. I didn’t mean it.

That’s when I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. Over by the display of three little boy mannequins (I later took the pic above so you could see it) was a matching little boy, though he had a face and was an actual human, probably 4 or 5 years old. He was looking the mannequins over while his mommy thumbed through a rack of tee shirts and talked to someone on the phone.

As I pushed my phone into my pocket, I watched him circle the three faceless boys and then crouch next to the one in black shorts on the end. What was he going to do? Very gingerly he leaned over and lightly stroked the fake boy’s calf muscle. Then he gave it a pat, as a friend might do, stood and walked around to examine him face to face. I pretended to scan my shopping list in case the mama looked up from her phone and caught me watching her boy. (I’m not creepy, lady. I just think kids are awesome.) But turns out I didn’t need to worry. She was lost in conversation about an instant pot and how great it is and how it saves her so much time but how she’s never going to make her own yogurt in it because that’s just ridiculous. I mean BUY YOUR YOGURT AT THE GROCERY STORE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD, PEOPLE. YOU DON’T NEED HOMEMADE YOGURT FOR THE INSTANT POT TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

(I guess she’s an instant pot evangelist.)

As the mama went on about how it makes great rice, the real boy gave the fake boy a nice smile and then slid his hand into the boy’s plastic one.

(Oh my gosh. How great is that?)

He held hands with the boy until his mom looked up and said, “Jakey, don’t touch that” and then said a hurried goodbye and put her phone back in her purse. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

As she pushed her cart into the aisle and headed towards the towels, the boy give a little wave goodbye to his mannequin friend.

HE GAVE A LITTLE WAVE GOODBYE TO HIS MANNEQUIN FRIEND! Can you believe it? And then arranged his own arms like the jogging mannequin triplets on display and jogged, knees high, to catch up to his mother.

I know it’s just a kid being awesome as kids are, but the rest of the day my brain kept replaying that scene, the calf stroking, the hand holding, the wave goodbye. It struck me as beautiful and important somehow. It struck me as HOLY.

Holy?

It was just a child playing, lost in his imagination. What was holy about that?

I used to think that imagination had nothing to do with faith. If someone were to have stood in a pulpit twenty years ago and said that imagination is a huge part of our faith, I would have gotten all offended and started noticing things I didn’t like about his/her face. I would have said inside my head, “Maybe your imagination is a huge part of your faith, but mine isn’t!” My beliefs were like steel, poured by me and God in the foundry of my soul, formed through years of study and prayer, listening and asking questions. But imagination? Imagination was the fluff that my own personal human brain dreamed up. If beliefs were steel, imagination was whipped cream- foamy and fun to play with, but not substantial. Not anything to base your life on.

Anyway, do we really want to form a God out of our cotton picking minds? We need Biblical scholarship, evidence, history. Introduce imagination into faith and we hear voices like the Hobo’s on The Polar Express, “you don’t want to be bamboozled. You don’t want to be led down the primrose path! You don’t want to be conned or duped. Have the wool pulled over your eyes. Hoodwinked! You don’t want to be taken for a ride. Railroaded!” 

No, we don’t want that. We want truth. We want the Really Real.

But over the years I’ve realized that every time I read the sacred stories, I have to imagine my way through them. I didn’t live thousands of years ago, so I ask God to help me imagine the sounds and the smells and the emotions. I take those along with the scripture in my search for the Really Real.

I’ve also realized that every time I pray, I imagine the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that my prayers aren’t real- they are. But I have to dream up the whole thing. I have to imagine that God is listening, I have to picture God somehow, in some form, hearing my words. I haven’t seen God yet so I don’t know what God looks like. I don’t really understand how the whole prayer thing works. So I have to go for it, using my imagination. And God is there, sometimes as sturdy as stone, sometimes as thin as tissue paper, and sometimes there’s just a void. But even then, I believe with my whole heart that God hears me.

So what about the boy stroking the calf of his imaginary playmate?

I felt Holiness in the air right in the boy’s department at Target because at that moment, I got to see a child imagine the humanity in a piece of plastic molded into the form of a boy. I got to see him touch his (plastic) skin, hold his (plastic) hand, and wave goodbye.

I find this holy because more than half the time, I don’t notice the humanity in even the real live people I encounter each day. I try, but a lot of the time I’m busy living my life. And if I find that I disagree with someone in a major way- if I can’t deal with the differences between us- I tend to put them in a group in my head and turn the other way. It’s not good, I know, and I’m working on it. It’s hard to take time to imagine their life or their fears or their wounds. If I don’t do the imagining- or the asking and the talking and relationship building- I can tell myself I don’t have to care.

Luckily we serve a God who knows our weaknesses, knows how hard it is to keep our imagining heart as we leave childhood behind, the kind of God who stands in the locked room after crucifixion, and knows that imagination is hard for some of us. So Jesus says, “Put your finger here; see my hands? Reach out your hand and put it into my side.”

How lucky for those who haven’t seen, but can imagine.

Thanks, little boy at Target. I’m so glad I noticed you.

 

 

 

Knowing Jesus in a New Way 1: Known in Absence

Welcome to Knowing Jesus in a New Way 1: Known in Absence, our lesson for April 8.

This week’s story always gives me goosebumps-especially the moment when Jesus calls Mary’s name and she recognizes him. It’s hard to think of a story that would be more full of suspense and fear and joy, and the script for this Godly Play lesson does such a great job of sharing all of that with the children. I’m so glad that we don’t have to cram all of the after-Easter stories into Easter Sunday! It’s a luxury to be able to enjoy them and study them over several weeks.

The script is shared in the book that comes in the basket with your story tiles. This series is told much like the Easter series, with each lesson shared in a weekly tile, presented in sequence. The book suggests that after the story is shared, that you give the children time to find something among your Godly Play materials that helps further tell/illustrate the story. I hope that if you have the materials out in your room that you’ll do that. I’ll also include wondering questions for you for each week.

Here are the wondering questions for this week. Thank you so much for taking time to jot down responses so that we can share them with the parents.They have shared that they find it meaningful and enjoy feeling connected to what happens in class.

Wondering Questions:

1. I wonder what your favorite part of today’s story is.

2. I wonder what the most important part of today’s story is.

3. I wonder if there are any parts of the story we could take away and still have everything we need.

4. I wonder if there are ways we can learn about Jesus even though  he’s not here with us. I wonder what those ways might be.

5. I wonder what God is trying to teach us with this story about loving Jesus even when we’re not with him.

Gift to God Response Time Ideas:

There are a couple different ways children can respond to the story: either by (1)retelling it through art with the ideas below, or (2) by exploring ways in which they can know Jesus in his physical absence.

(1) Retelling the story of the empty tomb through art.

Children may want to brainstorm how they might represent the empty tomb story with their own ideas. Could they make a cave with clay, and add some strips of linen to the inside, with a large stone rolled away? Could they build the tomb with Lego or Lincoln Logs (feel free to help yourselves to the materials in the game room.) Or make it out of paper plates?

Could they make the people in the story: the three Marys, Peter and John, Jesus as the gardener?  Could they act out the story for the class using the materials they made? If they choose to do this, please do take photos!

Or maybe they’d like to paint the story or draw it. You could also make the cave as shown here orhere  

or here.  

Or if you’re in the mood to cook, why make Resurrection Rolls? They turn out sort of like popovers-hollow in the middle like a cave. The recipe is here. You can use the oven in the parlor or make them ahead at home.



2) Exploring ways in which they can know Jesus in his physical absence

Hopefully the children will share ideas during the wondering questions of how they can know Jesus even though he’s not physically with us. They could work together to illustrate a mural / list of these ways, including reading the Bible stories about Jesus, (ask the children to look through the Gospels and pick out their favorite ones and illustrate those,) listening to teachers and preaching about Jesus, praying, looking at artwork that artists have done about Jesus and his life, studying the Jewish faith that Jesus came from, learning about Jesus from the ways other Christians treat people. (This is a tricky one, isn’t it?)

I’m sure the children will think of even more ideas of ways to learn about Jesus.

Children could also explore how they “see” Jesus in other people. How can we act to make sure people see Jesus in us? This could be a great subject for a mural or class project.

I hope these ideas help!

Love, Becky

Can a Band-Aid Be Holy?

When I took Josiah for a stroll around Asheville’s nature center a week ago, I had no idea so much would happen to me. Who knew I’d commiserate with Sassy, a raccoon with a hair loss problem? And there was more.

I didn’t even tell you about my brush with the Holy, thanks to a three year old I’d never met before who was throwing a huge fit. I thought our encounter was interesting and nice and slightly notable- but then Jesus/God/the Spirit/my own imagination (or all four) whispered into my ear about it during worship on Palm Sunday, and now I’m pretty sure that what happened is more than slightly notable- at least it is to me.  May I share?

So Josiah and I had just chatted with the otters (actually I had done all the chatting- Josiah and the otters just sat there observing me- as if I were the animal at the zoo!) and then we hung out in the petting area for a few minutes. That’s where I took this photo of Josiah as he struggled to understand what exactly donkeys are and I struggled with an intense urge to put that photo on Instagram with the caption, Josiah learns to deal with smart asses. I had a nice little laugh to myself but then decided that kids might see it and maybe that might seem unseemly for a children’s minister. So I’m sharing it here. Sometimes I crack myself up.

Anyway, after touring around the sheep and goats, we headed to see the bobcats. Josiah is just starting to say things that sound like words, and one of his first ones includes something that sounds like KEEKA, for kitty cat, of which he has two at home, one normal cat named Nala and one bizarro giant kitty named Aslan who is always falling off of things and trying to get in my lap.

So we were pushing our way up the hill to see the wild bobcat version of Aslan and Nala when I heard another wild animal– a young human kind.

“NO NO NO NO!” it shrieked from around the bend in the path. It was a little boy, maybe three years old, bent at the waist, hiding one hand like a candy bar he didn’t want to share. His mother leaned over him.

“Let me see it, Thomas. Let Mommy see it.”

“NO NO NO!!!”  he screamed and cried as if the world had canceled chicken nuggets.

“A BAND-AID!” he squealed. “A BAND-AID! I gots to have a band aid!”

“Mommy doesn’t have a band-aid honey. Just let me see it.”

“NO NO NO! You gots to have one!”

“I won’t touch it. Mommy just wants to look. See, I’ll put my hands behind my back!”

“NO NO NO!” he said, spinning around. He became one with the ground. “I gots to have a band-aid! I NEED ONE!”

As we approached, I gave the mom my best look that says “I’m sorry, I’ve had stubborn children too and I feel your pain.” (Josiah gave them a look that says, “Interesting. I will file this away.”)

That’s when Thomas had endured enough. He sat up and folded his arms and deepened his voice to sound as much like a bear as was possible for a three year old.  “YOU GOTS TO GIVE ME A BAND-AID!!!!!! NOW.”

“I don’t have one. See! Mommy’s purse doesn’t have one. But maybe they have one in the office. Let’s go see. But you have to get up and walk.”

I gave the mama another sympathetic smile as I walked past, just to show solidarity.

“BUT I NEED ONE RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW”

Poor little guy. Poor mama. It will get better, Mama.

“BUT I CAN’T WALK TO THE OFFICE.  I CAN’T DO IT, MAMA.”

Poor mama. Poor Thomas. If only there was a service to help mamas in need. A AAA for child repair.

And then the thought struck me. I HAVE A BAND-AID!

I could be the AAA!

I parked the stroller and opened my purse. Was it still there? My Michelin Man husband had given me a pack of Michelin Band-Aids, each one decorated with Mr. Bib’s puffy marshmallow head, though at the time I had told him thanks but no thanks. “I’m a children’s minister, honey.” I said. “I always have a first aid kit with me anytime I take kids anywhere.” But Todd had looked so disappointed that I had thanked him and stuck them in my purse, just in case.

In Case had arrived!

The band-aids were still there!

“Sorry,” the mama said as I turned around and approached, as if I were about to make a citizen’s arrest for baby whining.

“No, I have a band-aid,” I said.”May I give it to you?’

“LOOK THOMAS LOOK! OUR FRIEND HAS A BAND-AID!”

Our friend? How nice! I was OUR FRIEND!

“He is bleeding a little,” she explained. “But not enough to justify this,” she said, waiving her finger around his sweet face.

I nodded. “Sometimes you just gotta have a band-aid.”

“Look Thomas! See! Our new friend heard your voice and came to our rescue! ”

A feeling of joy  swept through me. A simple band-aid in my purse made me a super hero!

The mama was not done. “What do you say to our new friend?”

“Frank you,” he said, swallowing tears.

It was the best moment of the morning.

Thomas and his mom popped into my head during worship the next day, a few moments after our children had paraded down the aisle of the sanctuary, waving palms branches, celebrating Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. After setting the branches on the communion table, we sat together for the children’s sermon, and I talked with the kids about how the people that day so long ago were excited about seeing Jesus, and lay their cloaks and more branches on the path, honoring him by making the ground softer for him. For easing his way along the path.

As I sat back in my chair on the platform and listened to our beautiful choir anthem, Thomas and his mom popped into my mind. What fun it was- and how lucky I was- to get to make the ground a teensy bit softer for him and his mom. It was just a simple band-aid. Not a big deal at all. Not at all notable, in the scheme of things. But what JOY I felt getting a chance to do it. A surprising level of happy!

Whenever I find extreme happy combined with surprise, it’s a clue to me that God is at work, somehow.

What else do I have in my possession that could ease someone’s path?

How can I make someone’s way in the world softer?

Here during Holy Week, when we remember Jesus, who said, “Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for me,” it seems like a good thing to think about.

Featured Photo by Victor at Flickr, through Creative Commons. Thank you, Victor!