This may very well be my favorite time of year.
After months of hurrying in from the cold, the warmth of spring lures me outside.
After many hours spent searching for the lost mitten or hat, I watch with a smile as my kids pile out onto the lawn in swimsuits and flippy flops.
After the short days of winter, I am inspired by the daylight that lasts well past a decent bedtime.
And the garden.
Every year I have had a garden thus far, I have been either expecting a baby or carrying a newborn one in my arms.
Not this year. This year I am surrounded by kids old enough to wield a trowel, to drag the hose, to pull weeds.
And we have been hard at work in the garden.
Weeds removed, soil broken and turned and amended, flowers planted, seeds sown. Water them in the morning, and at night.
Lots of work, but a chore that is wanted around here. Eager hands have helped every step of the way.
Why?
Because these small ones now know the joy of watching seedlings pop through the black dirt. The awe of flowers turning to baby veggies that will ripen and grow seemingly in front of their eyes. And the excitement felt when it is their night to take the garden bowl out to the yard to pick the dinner veggies.
Sometimes the bowl is overflowing, beans, squash, peas, tomatoes.
Sometimes it is a single cuke, waiting to be shared, or a handful of raspberries that never quite make it in the house.
But the kids know the reward, so the work is worth it all.
I couldn't agree more.
Working in the dirt, alongside my children, I have time to talk to them. To listen to them. To learn with them.
We have found toads, slugs, june bugs, pill bugs, centipedes, spiders, worms and butterflies. We have worked together and cooled off in the spray of the hose at the end of the day.
And the hard work makes it even more worth it. I doubt that they would be as into going to the store and buying a cucumber. In fact, I know that wouldn't be a chore fought over.
The garden allows the kids to see with their eyes what faith is.
Faith is believing in something you cannot see.
I have faith that those tiny seeds contain all the makings of my August salad. That the water I sprinkle on them will help them reach their potential.
The garden. Not too different from parenting, if you ask me.
I can only sow the seeds, and provide the sun and water, and the rest is all out of my hands. Faith is what carries me through the rest of the parenting journey.
Seeds are planted daily around here.
You see, we are raising a different breed around this house. An heirloom variety, if you will.
The seeds we plant are those of patience. Those of kindness. Compassion. Humor. Reverence. Obedience. Respect. Knowledge. Christian faith.
The seeds are small. But if we prepare the soil first, and tend to them daily, we will see the results.
If we keep hard at work in the garden that is our family, there will be a harvest more than we could have dreamed of.
God is good.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Hook, Line and Sinker.
When approached to teach 4th grade Sunday School, I will admit I was a little apprehensive.
OK, I was scared.
The idea of being in front of 5-8 intelligent and inquisitive 10 year olds. Teaching the Bible.
Was I enough of a Bible reader?
Could I answer their questions? Fill their hearts with the love of Jesus I have?
Today was my day to teach. I had 5 kids in class, hands grasping the new Bibles they received 2 weeks ago on Bible Sunday. I was armed with a Bible curriculum and a bag of Goldfish crackers.
Game on.
We made it through the beginning of the lesson, marking specific books with ribbons in our Bibles.
Jonah, Matthew, John.
Marked in yellow, blue, green.
Started in on the story of Jonah..... lots of fish crackers doled out while the kids shouted out answers about Jonah's story. But that's another blog.
What hit me most about today's class was when we read Matthew 4: 18-20
As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. - Matthew 4:18-20 (NIV)
Promptly, one of the girls said "Jesus didn't mean we were to actually fish for men, did he?"
Moment of truth. I knew what the passage meant to me... but where I was headed was nowhere on the photocopied page on the table in front of me........
"Yes.
We are to be Fishers of Men, what do you think that means?"
Among the answers was one that made me stop "We are to gather men to follow Him"
BINGO.
So, I had that young girl draw a picture of what she meant. And I ended up watching her draw a girl calling others to follow God... and many many many stick figures gathering around to listen.
So, as talks with 4th graders do, we wondered off from the path we set out on.... but we were in REAL interesting territory.
We discussed what you need to fish.
A hook.
Bait, preferably a worm.
and "fish".
We had gone from a lesson on the order of the books in the bible to a lesson on being a true disciple.
In the end, we decided that we WERE asked to be fishers of men... we had the hook, we had the line, we even had the bait we needed, as one girl explained "Jesus dying on the cross is our worm. He died to take away our sins. God's own son died to save me. Now THAT's a worm".
Smiling, I agreed. We can't help but be fishers of men with a worm like that, huh?
So I told the kids of our last trip up north with the kids. They all know my kids (JT is in the class, but was out for cub scout camp today).
Told them of the vending machine B and I found near the bait and tackle shop in town. It looked like a pop machine from the side... but when you walked around the front, it read, in large letters... LIVE BAIT.
B studied the words for a moment, and let the idea draw itself in his mind. Then, slowly, he asked me .. "A worm machine???" We giggled at the idea of an early morning fisherman with a pocketful of quarters to swap for live worms in a can.
He was laughing when the thought hit of the fate of the worms.
A sad look crept across his face. Somberly, he told me of his plan.
He was going to bring his piggy bank next time. One can at a time, he told me, we was going to buy those worms their freedom. Unscrewing the lids and scattering the once-doomed worms on the grass next door, he'd yell "Squirm, squirm for your lives, little fellows!"
As I told the story to the Sunday school class, I added that there was a large restaurant right next to the bait shop... one with a patio and lots of customers... a great audience for B's worm saving adventure.
As the laughter died down in the classroom, a voice said "and the worms would be ALL over".
Exactly.
The worms would be all over. No matter how wrapped up in your daily life you were.. if you were in that small town at the same time B emptied the machine of all it's baity goodness, you'd likely hear of the worms.
Hear about the worm.
Just what we had decided Jesus asked us to do. To use Him as the worm when we became fishers of men.
It wasn't on a photocopied sheet.
Not in the lesson plans.
nor in the ideas I had going into the class.
But, by the time the class heard the "5 minute bell" ringing near the end of class, they were sure of a few things.
1. Use the table of contents in the front of the Bible. It works.
2. We are to fish for men, Jesus said so.
3. Jesus died on the cross, and that, my friends, is the worm.
Laughing, I asked them to explain it ALL when they spilled into coffee hour. I was a little concerned that I'd have a confused CE director and lots of phone calls when the class ran through coffee hour proclaiming "Jesus is the WORM!"
I needn't have worried about being in the 4th grade class on Sunday mornings.
I am learning LOADS there.
OK, I was scared.
The idea of being in front of 5-8 intelligent and inquisitive 10 year olds. Teaching the Bible.
Was I enough of a Bible reader?
Could I answer their questions? Fill their hearts with the love of Jesus I have?
Today was my day to teach. I had 5 kids in class, hands grasping the new Bibles they received 2 weeks ago on Bible Sunday. I was armed with a Bible curriculum and a bag of Goldfish crackers.
Game on.
We made it through the beginning of the lesson, marking specific books with ribbons in our Bibles.
Jonah, Matthew, John.
Marked in yellow, blue, green.
Started in on the story of Jonah..... lots of fish crackers doled out while the kids shouted out answers about Jonah's story. But that's another blog.
What hit me most about today's class was when we read Matthew 4: 18-20
As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. - Matthew 4:18-20 (NIV)
Promptly, one of the girls said "Jesus didn't mean we were to actually fish for men, did he?"
Moment of truth. I knew what the passage meant to me... but where I was headed was nowhere on the photocopied page on the table in front of me........
"Yes.
We are to be Fishers of Men, what do you think that means?"
Among the answers was one that made me stop "We are to gather men to follow Him"
BINGO.
So, I had that young girl draw a picture of what she meant. And I ended up watching her draw a girl calling others to follow God... and many many many stick figures gathering around to listen.
So, as talks with 4th graders do, we wondered off from the path we set out on.... but we were in REAL interesting territory.
We discussed what you need to fish.
A hook.
Bait, preferably a worm.
and "fish".
We had gone from a lesson on the order of the books in the bible to a lesson on being a true disciple.
In the end, we decided that we WERE asked to be fishers of men... we had the hook, we had the line, we even had the bait we needed, as one girl explained "Jesus dying on the cross is our worm. He died to take away our sins. God's own son died to save me. Now THAT's a worm".
Smiling, I agreed. We can't help but be fishers of men with a worm like that, huh?
So I told the kids of our last trip up north with the kids. They all know my kids (JT is in the class, but was out for cub scout camp today).
Told them of the vending machine B and I found near the bait and tackle shop in town. It looked like a pop machine from the side... but when you walked around the front, it read, in large letters... LIVE BAIT.
B studied the words for a moment, and let the idea draw itself in his mind. Then, slowly, he asked me .. "A worm machine???" We giggled at the idea of an early morning fisherman with a pocketful of quarters to swap for live worms in a can.
He was laughing when the thought hit of the fate of the worms.
A sad look crept across his face. Somberly, he told me of his plan.
He was going to bring his piggy bank next time. One can at a time, he told me, we was going to buy those worms their freedom. Unscrewing the lids and scattering the once-doomed worms on the grass next door, he'd yell "Squirm, squirm for your lives, little fellows!"
As I told the story to the Sunday school class, I added that there was a large restaurant right next to the bait shop... one with a patio and lots of customers... a great audience for B's worm saving adventure.
As the laughter died down in the classroom, a voice said "and the worms would be ALL over".
Exactly.
The worms would be all over. No matter how wrapped up in your daily life you were.. if you were in that small town at the same time B emptied the machine of all it's baity goodness, you'd likely hear of the worms.
Hear about the worm.
Just what we had decided Jesus asked us to do. To use Him as the worm when we became fishers of men.
It wasn't on a photocopied sheet.
Not in the lesson plans.
nor in the ideas I had going into the class.
But, by the time the class heard the "5 minute bell" ringing near the end of class, they were sure of a few things.
1. Use the table of contents in the front of the Bible. It works.
2. We are to fish for men, Jesus said so.
3. Jesus died on the cross, and that, my friends, is the worm.
Laughing, I asked them to explain it ALL when they spilled into coffee hour. I was a little concerned that I'd have a confused CE director and lots of phone calls when the class ran through coffee hour proclaiming "Jesus is the WORM!"
I needn't have worried about being in the 4th grade class on Sunday mornings.
I am learning LOADS there.
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