Category: From the Mouths of Babes

Refreshing

Posted by – August 26, 2010

Over the weekend, I shared a meal with a group of friends. Every month we gather together, fellowship, eat, and then have communion.

Communion has always been a special, but sometimes confusing time for me. Growing up, I attended a church where we had communion once a quarter. We passed the silver trays of miniature saltine crackers and plastic thimbles of juice. I ate, I drank, but felt little.

In my college years, we traded the crackers for 99 cent loaves of French bread from Wal-mart. But it was a Baptist college, so we held onto the Welch’s grape juice. There, the act of communion began to take more shape. I vividly remember a time when we tore off the bread, dipped it into the juice, then served it to someone else in the room. I cupped my hand under the dripping, purple-stained bread and offered it to someone who I had struggled to love in the past. I ate, I drank, and felt a little more.

As an adult, I still struggle to know how I should feel when I take communion. Sometimes I hold the wafers with the edges biting into my fingers, wanting to feel the tiniest fraction of His pain. I have taken communion in a common cup, felt the bitter wine in my throat. I have picked up crumbs of crackers while tears streamed down my cheeks. Stared down at the tiny cup of juice in my hand, feeling too burdened to even raise my head.

Which brings me to this weekend. We passed a small styrofoam plate filled with broken crackers. We ate, in remembrance of Him. Then a little girl walked around with a small tray of Dixie cups. Each cup held an inch of juice. We drank, in remembrance of Him.

And what happened next changed how I felt about communion. That little girl who had passed around the juice held her cup to her lips. She gulped it down, brought the cup away from her mouth, and uttered the most satisfied “ahhhhhhhh” I’ve ever heard.

It was the sound of thirst quenched. The satisfied sound of Living Water on a dry soul. It may have been socially inappropriate, but it was the most appropriate response to communion I had ever heard.

And suddenly what kind of bread didn’t matter. Juice versus wine was irrelevant. Even my emotions were unimportant.

It was really all about a hungry heart and the Bread of Life. A thirsty soul and the Living Water.

And the satisfied “ahhhh” of a child cared for by her Father.

Bet You Didn’t Know…

Posted by – March 3, 2009

That this past Saturday was Brandy Day. Aren’t you sad you missed it?

What? You don’t believe that February 28 is Brandy Day? Well, I have proof.

I mean, there’s nothing more trustworthy than a 5-year-old standing by an easel proclaiming Brandy Day, is there? This is my buddy Eli. He’s one of the coolest kids I know. He and I spent Brandy Day hanging out. One of the traditional activities to do on Brandy Day is arts and crafts. Because, you see, I’m incredibly talented at arts and crafts. Especially drawing dogs. Do you doubt me? See for yourself.

Check that out. That puppy has googly eyes. And it looks so real that you probably thought it was a photograph. Don’t worry, it happens all the time.

The second event we tackled on Brandy Day was an outing to Home Depot. Okay, technically, it was a birthday party. The audacity of someone having a birthday party on Brandy Day. But it’s okay, I’m a forgiving person.

Eli and I were a dynamic duo when it came to building. I held the nails and he hammered. And we emerged with all of our fingers intact, and only a few tears. From me. Building can be frustrating.

After our building project was complete, we chowed down on some Brandy Day cupcakes. I just let that other kid think that it was his birthday cake. Because I’m really kind like that.

All in all, I’d say Brandy Day was quite the success. So don’t forget to mark it on your calendar for next year. I guarantee, if you take your cues from Eli and me, you’ll have the best Brandy Day ever.

But don’t forget your safety glasses. Brandy Day celebrations are not for the faint of heart.

Ah, kids

Posted by – April 22, 2008

Actual conversation I had with one of my Sunday school kiddos:

Kid: Miss Brandy, why do we have a walkie talkie?

Me: Because if we need help, I can use it to call someone.

Kid: Why would we need help?

Me: Because, let’s say, you jumped out of the window. I would have to call for help.

Kid: *giggling* What would happen if I jumped out of the window?

Me: I would get fired because I didn’t stop you from jumping out of the window.

Kid: What if you didn’t see me?

Me: I’d still get fired because I wasn’t watching you.

Kid: What if you were yawning really big, and you closed your eyes and I jumped out of the window?

Me: Still get fired.

Kid: Well, I don’t think you should call for help on the walkie talkie. I think you should just run outside and help me. Then you wouldn’t get fired.

Me: Excellent idea. And I’m sure your parents wouldn’t worry at all about why you were a mangled mess.

Kid: What’s mangled?

Me: Go color.

Shameless

Posted by – February 18, 2008

A conversation I actually had with one of my kids in Sunday school:

Kid: Miss Brandy, do we have any more fruit snacks?

Me: No, sorry, we’re all out.

Kid: But Miss Brandy, what’s that in your hand?

Me: Nothing.

Kid: What did you just put in your mouth?

Me: Go write your Bible verse.

I’m shameless.

One of those Sundays…

Posted by – January 6, 2008

I was out of town most weekends in December, so I hadn’t taught Sunday school in about a month. So maybe I was just out of practice this morning. Or maybe it was the snow. Perhaps my kiddos had too many donuts for breakfast. All I know, is it was not a good day. But for you, my fair readers, I will share my pain. These are just a few of the actual statements I had to say this morning. Names have been changed to protect the innocent (ha!)

  • “Um, Corey, I’m going to need you to not blow your nose in your hand anymore.”
  • “Mark, I don’t care how good it tastes, you’re going to have to stop eating the Play-Doh.”
  • “Dear God, thank you for the kids here today. And please make them stop talking while we’re praying.”
  • “Jason, seriously, you need to stop dancing on the table.”
  • “Mark, it’s not nice to draw pictures of you killing your brother. And Lee, please don’t draw pictures of your poop. Nobody needs to see that.”
  • “Being a line-leader is a privilege my friend. One that you have not earned. Back of the line buddy. Back of the line.”

From the mouths of babes…

Posted by – December 13, 2007

Recently, my second graders acted out the story of Jesus’ birth. In only a way that children can. Here are just a few things I heard as we were getting ready for our acting debut.

Angel: My wings are too tight. I can’t feel my fingers.

Wise Man: Do I get to carry real frankenstein?

Shepherd: Look at my sheep. (Holds out his hand with three marshmallows.) They’re baby sheep.

Joseph: This beard itches my face.
Me: Take it off.
Joseph: I need a razor.
Me: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mary: I need to ride in to the manger on my pet donkey.

Angel: I don’t like it when angels swoop. I’m just gonna walk.

Me: What’s wrong?
Kid in the Corner: They’re calling me a donkey boy.
Me: No, they’re calling Dawson a donkey boy.
Kid in the Corner: Oh, okay. Can I have a marshmallow?

Boy with a Rope: Can you tie this around my neck so I can be a donkey?

King Herod: I keep tripping over my dress.