Fun and Games

I got David a "game cube" for his birthday.  And then promptly beat him at Parcheesi. (He later beat me at Chinese Checkers.)

   David's "fried egg".  Completely lacking any chicken byproducts. ;)

Playing trains with Lukie.

Of course, the guinea pig and cat had to play trains with us too...

Acceptance

In the last year and a half that I have worked at First Reformed Church I have worked with lots of "challenges".  I've shown up to work with mono, on crutches because of tweaked knees or ankles, with ear infections, with my central auditory processing disorder flared so bad I could hardly understand what was going on around me, and so on.  But today was different. I showed up to work in a wheelchair.
Due to a unfortunate incident involving multiple pairs of ice skates, a bunch of friends and a small child I have badly sprained knee.  Doctor says I am supposed to stay completely off of it at least through the weekend, along with icing, elevating, etc.  And since I always listen to my doctor I'm in a wheelchair.
To be honest, I was a little nervous. I wasn't nervous about staff meeting or homework time or anything like that.  I wasn't even really nervous about the community dinner.  I was nervous about teaching my class of 4 and 5 year olds. How would they react to me in a wheelchair?  Would I be able to lead the class well from a wheelchair?  Would I have three kids or nine kids?
My fears were unfounded.  The kids hardly seemed to notice.  The only time any of them said anything was when we were singing "Stand up, Sit down" and one of them suggested I raise my good leg instead of trying to stand up when we got there.  By the time we were done class, I was playing "tickle monster" with all of them just fine.  Class from a wheelchair had gone just fine.  The biggest problem I'd actually had all day at work was trying to get into the ladies' room.  Once I was in I was fine, it was just the getting in part that didn't work out so great.
What struck me most about the whole experience was that my kiddos were so accepting.  There was no questioning, not fear, just acceptance.  Miss Joy was simply in a wheelchair and that was that.  One child came up behind me and started pushing me and we had a little talk about wheelchair etiquette, but other than that, things were good.  And that made me happy. I wish more people could be like that.  So accepting, so innocent.

Daddy, is that blood?

"Daddy, is that blood?"
"No it just represents Jesus' blood.  It reminds of Jesus' blood"
I smiled as I listened to them talk about the meaning of communion.  Then the pastor began talking again.
"The blood of Christ shed for you" (no wonder kids get confused!)
With that, we all tipped back our swallow of grape juice.  The pastor offered a prayer and thus ended communion.  My notebook was out and on my lap as I scribbled furiously through the offering processing everything.

Why do we drink only a small swallow of grape juice (or wine if that is your tradition)? Jesus didn't shed just a little blood for us.  He didn't just prick his finger or scrape his knee.  He gave all his blood.  Every last drop was given for me, and for you, and for every one who calls on his name.  All of it.  He poured it all out.
When I'm at a communion service I just want to drink gallons of the grape juice, I want to wash in it, I want to relish in it (okay, that would be really sticky, but I'm speaking figuratively!) His blood has washed me clean.  Cleaner than any soap could ever get me.  His blood covers it all.

I think about blood a lot.  Not in a creepy way, but in general.  I've known some people involved in the occult, the darker side of things.  There it's all about the blood too.  The difference is in who's blood it is.  In my very limited knowledge of the occult, the blood required is always the blood of a mortal.  Either the blood of the person practicing or the blood of an animal or the blood of another.  I don't fully understand what the blood does or why it's important (as I said, my knowledge is very limited), I just know it plays an important role.  I also know that it's never enough...there always has to be more blood.
But in Christianity, the blood only had to be shed once.  Once and for all.  That's all.  No more blood was needed.  It just blows my mind and makes me so grateful, so thankful.

My blood will never need shed, the blood of another will never need on my behalf.  It's over.

"Daddy, is this blood?"
no...it's not blood because we don't need actual blood anymore.  That's already been taken care of

Leave it Home!

A Toronto district school recently sent home a letter (and follow-up ) banning playground bars on the basis of a couple injuries and near injuries. Children were asked to leave their balls at home.  It made me think (one of my pastimes).  Playground balls are required to be left home because of injury they might cause or have caused.  But what else are children bringing to school that can cause injury.
Maybe these are things that ought to be banned:
Bullying - It hurts upfront and in the long term it can be very damaging.  Almost weekly we read reports of students who have been driven to suicide because of prolonged bullying.  As someone who has survived a fair bit of bullying, I can personally attest to this.
Homophobia - really, homophobia gets no one anywhere.  You don't have to agree with everyone and not everyone has to agree with you.  That's just the way things are. But you do have to be kind.
Peanut Butter and Nut Products - Mostly because these things are not allowed in most Ontario schools and because I understand life with nut allergies and how hard it can be to be in a lunch room surrounded by PB&J sandwiches and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
Racism - Racism is old fashioned, but it still run rampart in many places.  Leave it home and look beyond skin color.  You might be amazed at what you find.
Hate - do I really need to elaborate?
Pets - Although pets can be fun, the can also be really distracting at school.
Mean names - As many of these things are, mean names are a subdivision of bullying.  They have no place at school.
Bad attitudes - the bad attitude of one student can have a large impact on the whole learning environment.  Bad attitudes are contagious, just as good attitudes are.  Yeah, sometimes school sucks.  Sometimes we don't want to be there.  But for every student that doesn't want to be there, there are many more who do want to be there and can't be.


That's only a partial list, but it's what I have for now.  What do you think students should leave at home?

Don't Point!

I stood singing in church one morning, my hands moving as much as my mouth.  The church-provided FM system hung over my right ear, the wire snaking down to the box clipped to my pocket.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the little blonde haired blue-eyed girl in the row behind me pointing at me.  I turned to smile at her and watched her ask her mommy why I had the funny thing on my ear. I watched her mommy pull her hand down from pointing and saw the words "don't point" as they came out of her mother's mouth.  The rest of the reply was lost as the mother and the child turned away and we moved into a time of prayer.
My heart wanted to yell at her or at least offer gentle advice, since I'm not exactly the yelling and screaming type of person.  I wanted to tell to let her daughter point, to let her daughter ask questions, to let her daughter ask *me* questions.
Some of you mind think that this sort of response encourages rudeness or impertinence and perhaps it does, but that's not how I see it.
The genuine, inquisitive, questions of a child who doesn't yet understand the world around her are not offensive.  Neither are the genuine inquisitive questions of an adult who does not understand the world around them.
What *is* offensive though is people who assume they know the answers without asking.  The people who don't asking can't really know.
If we hadn't been sitting in church and I had the opportunity to interact with the child, I would have taken my FM system off and handed it to her and let her listen.  I would have shown her my hearing aids and explained that my ears were broken and that hearing aids were like glasses for my ears.  I would have told her that I use my eyes to "hear". I would have asked her what her name was and then shown her How I would fingerspell it.  I would have answered her questions. And I would have answered the questions that her mom was too afraid to ask.
And I would have told her them that pointing was okay, as long as they weren't laughing as me when they pointed.

Precious moments

This morning in church I sat right in front of 4 year old Abel and his dad.  I often sit in front of Abel and his family or across the aisle from them.  Today when it was time for the morning offering to be received, Abel decided that he was going to help his dad collect the offering (Abel's dad is a deacon).  Without missing more than a beat or two, Abel's dad handed him an offering plate and the two of them collected the offering together.  Abel was so proud as he passed the plate down the rows of people, and the look on his face as he walked down the center aisle with his dad and the other deacon to present the offering filled my heart with joy.  I got a high five from him as he went back to his seat.

Last week Friday I celebrated communion with 4 year old Miriam snuggled on my lap.  As the communion liturgy was read/recited she nearly quivered with excitement.  As I took the wafer and dipped it in the grape juice, she took a wafer and dipped it in the grape juice.  She knew that Jesus had died for her sins too.  Because she had been raised in a church (they had no Sunday School), she knew what communion was and she knew that this was part of her faith life.  When we were finished, she twisted around on my lap and smiled up at me. We shared that sacred moment together.

Children are not the future of our church. They are the church. They are the church now.  They will not become the church.  They are the church.

When will we realize this and stop sending them off to Sunday is the basement while we have church?  Why do we pretend to ourselves that once they are older they will want a part in the very church sent them off to their own space, their own classroom the entire time they were growing up?

Children can participate in "big church".  Abel collected offering this morning.  Children can greet people and hand out bulletins.  They can pass out cookies after church.  They can sing the songs and learn the readings and liturgy that we use week after week.

Children are the church now. Today.  In this time.

These are precious moments that we can't afford to miss.  If we miss these moments, then the church WILL die.  There is no doubt about that.

And a little child shall lead them...

Yesterday was the annual all seminary retreat.  I'm going to decline commenting on the content of the retreat for the most part at this point (that might come later).  For now, I'm going to talk about the ending.  As normal (well, as much as I can judge normal, having been to a grand total of 2 all sem retreats) we closed with a communion service. Now I love communion.  Especially at seminary because I get to participate. Yesterday was the first time I'd been able to take communion since May, so that was pretty cool.
Anyhow, we're all sitting in the amphitheater at Camp Geneva as we prepare for communion.  We go through the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving, all the appropriate liturgy is read and the invitation is issued, "Come for all things are now ready".  I was sitting behind two boys, ages 4 and 1.5 (I think...somewhere around there).  The older one has taken communion before and understands what happens during communion.  The younger one, not so much.  At the invitation, the younger one rushed forward, eager to partake.  He was quickly summoned back by his parents, but I smiled.
This little one, this child, may have understood better than any of the rest of us.  He wanted to be part of this. He was not concerned about waiting his turn or walking slowly and quietly.  The leader had said "come" and he came.  What if we all had the faith that that child unknowingly demonstrated?  What if we really took that invitation seriously? What if we had that kind of righteous abandon?  It's a happy thought.  As the scriptures say, we must become like little children if we want to enter the kingdom of G-d.

Seminary people processes from the chapel to the amphitheater