A fun-filled week

We've got lots of kids and volunteers in the building this week for Vacation Bible School. Although not for everyone, VBS has always been my idea of a good time. At the registration table today I witnessed two five-year olds  greeting each other with small excited waves while adults conducted the business of checking in. "She's my friend from Sunday School," one confided in me while waiting for her name tag. Properly registered, they joined hands and ran to find their group.

Relationships are so important - not just for our well-being but for understanding how our relational God has created us to negotiate in the world. At five and eighty-five -- taking turns, sharing, listening  -- these are the important building blocks to making and being a friend. They are also the foundation for being good stewards of the blessings God has shared with us.

Everyone enjoys the worship and singing!

I've been especially enthralled with the volunteers from our congregation and community who stepped forward this year to teach crafts, prepare snacks, bring the Bible stories alive, and shepherd groups of kids from room to room. There are the new helpers -- older youth and high school kids who have graduated to "crew leader" status. Some of these kids we know well - others are friends of friends already bored after two weeks of summer. Some were clearly volunteered against their will - grumpy and uncooperative after being awakened too early - physically present but letting the rest of us know they aren't happy about it.

Among this year's crop of volunteers are some long-retired Sunday School teachers and a dozen other older adults who have jumped in with the kind of contagious enthusiasm and joy I wish everyone had. They've egged each other on - playing games with the kids, singing and doing the hand motions - embracing the new(er) technology of mimicking the words and motions of enthusiastic kids on a DVD.

Relationships are vital to them also - both the lasting friendships they've developed over many years and the new relationships that may only last the few days of Vacation Bible School.

Learning about God's love through games and fun!

When one of the youngest kids came to the snack station on the first day, he asked for a hamburger and fries. Learning that they were not available, he was willing to settle for mac and cheese. We are not always able or willing to offer all of the bells and whistles (or mac and cheese) of a larger church. But we are certainly growing in our ability to welcome and build relationships with these young children, the eager and even reluctant teenagers, and with each other. We are excited to take turns so that others may shine, to share what we have - including our time and the treasure our faith. Come and see!

Bang! Bang!

Forced to do some triage by unexpected water in our basement, I've been going through bins of old toys and games the kids have enjoyed, outgrown and forgotten. It's been difficult for me to part with some of these treasures - each one holds memories of wonderful times when a single Hot Wheel car or a stuffed bear and its adventures could be the plan for a whole afternoon. A time when my own confidence as a parent was high - without the daily drama and missteps of today's tween and teen years.

Sorting through the toys, a forgotten parenting theme emerged. Examining a small spaceman I thought was broken, I remembered carefully sanding off the weapon in his hand before giving the toy to our son - thinking he would never notice (he did). The tiny black pistols from the Lego police officers "disappeared," and for years we resisted the pull of those enormous Super Soakers - squirt guns shaped like automatic weapons. Instead our kids had pink flamingo and zebra squirters which leaked down the arm and required frequent refilling. I would politely ask David to put his pretend finger gun away and redirect him to another activity. Right or wrong, I hated seeing my kids and their friends pointing weapons at each other or me.

I vividly remember the turning point. At a birthday party several years ago, David received a gigantic Nerf bazooka. As he unwrapped the gift, I thought to myself, "That's going back to Target. Today." Emerging out of a flurry of wrapping paper, the kids ran to the park across the street with some of his new toys. To my surprise, that Nerf gun had already been wrestled out of its packaging and was lifted high over the boys' heads like a trophy. Too late to take it back. Over time, his collection of Nerf guns has grown. On hot summer days, we've all enjoyed giant squirt fights with giant squirters. Currently, his room is overrun with a large and baffling assortment of Warhammer figures and weapons, a tabletop military strategy game he enjoys for hours with friends.

All of these memories run through my mind as I grudgingly purge the basement and consider the kind of parent I have become and the kind of people my children have grown into and will grow into. At some point, all of my parental hopes and dreams for them narrowed to just a handful  - to be kind and happy with faith in a God who loves them and the knowledge that they can make a difference in the world. This has meant clinging hard to some values and letting some other stuff go.  When I watch and listen to them, I give thanks. Most of the time. So far, so good.

Now... if I could just get rid of these cute little beanie babies.

Better than nothing? Part 2

As I was driving home today, I spotted Gary - last week's stranded, depressed, former church goer from a distant town. He was chatting with someone at a corner bus stop while I sat at the stoplight watching him and debating. A week ago I was taken in by his sad story and had felt at least a little superior about my generous and compassionate response. This afternoon, however, I sat through the long light, deflated and debating. Should I stop to talk with him? Wag an accusing finger at him? Ask for a refund? Call the cops?

Once a teen from church shared a similar story about helping someone he and friends had met, pooling together their money to give the stranger a few bucks for a night in a nearby shelter. Several days later, the young man was still stewing about whether he had done the right thing. (I know the feeling.) Stewing enough to come in and talk about it. What if the money was spent on alcohol or drugs? What if the stranger hadn't gone to the shelter? What if there wasn't even a shelter? Had he and his friends behaved foolishly by giving money? Could our faith make us fools? I guess the simple answer is "Yes."

The Bible has not-so-simple verses that could speak to this kind of human dilemma. For example, in the gospel of Luke Jesus urges us to "give to everyone who begs from you: and if anyone takes your goods, do not ask for them again." (Luke 6:30) That sounds wildly generous but also unwise and irresponsible and un-doable to me. Everyone? That guy on the corner who ripped me off? Responding to enemies with love, forgiving people, turning the other cheek, turning out my pockets? Doing these things, even grudgingly and imperfectly, can makes us look like such fools by the world's standards when we'd prefer to look powerful and generous and - in my case - oh so right.

So I sat at the stoplight, fuming and keeping score, thinking unkind thoughts about the man at the bus stop. Sometimes people (including me) behave in ways that are disappointing or mean or desperate or worse - for reasons that are more complicated than I can quickly comprehend.

Which is easier?  By refusing to respond to people in need, I could minimize the foolish factor and dole out my compassion and my pocket money to those I know with certainty are deserving.  Or I could stop trying to control the outcome.  Generosity should probably be freely offered or it turns into something else - something that generates as much joy and love and real relationship as paying the utility bill.

I'm still curious about his real story - which is probably every bit as layered and difficult as the fake one he sold to me a week ago. It has certainly been more interesting and challenging to have met and engaged this stranger than to have passed him by without even really seeing.

When you've been asked for help, when you've been surprised and disappointed - how have you responded?