Now That's A New One

I had the chance to sit in on the preschool lesson in church this past Sunday. My little group of two-year-olds and I marched in and found ourselves a spot on the squishy mats in back and settled in to watch the big kids. Much as the two's are sweet and adorable (some of the time), often their older preschool counterparts can be even more of a hoot and both the two-year-olds and I relish taking in their antics. This week was no exception.

As is to be expected in December, the teacher had prepared a fun lesson about the angel's announcement to Mary and to Joseph. So to get the kids in the spirit of things she opened with this question:

"What do we celebrate at Christmas?"

A boy of about four or five years immediately shot his hand in the air.

"I know! I know!" he said.

The teacher pointed to him and asked for his response.

He said, "We celebrate when Santa died."

Ummm... Yeah. Well, they've got a few more weeks to help that little guy out. And bless his heart, he definitely was sincere.

Returning Home

I am back from a week away from home. It was a good break and the R & R did us all a lot of good, but of course home is better. Home is always better.

I think of that this morning after learning of a church friend's departure for "home". Her time away from home - here on earth - was relatively short. But I'm guessing today she is experiencing that great relief and joy of being where she truly belongs.

I brought Leslie and her journey through cancer to you some months ago, asking you to pray. Now that her journey is over, the journey for her husband and 3-year-old son has just become tougher and perhaps lonelier. Please pray for Tyson and TJ.

Endings

Our school year will be wrapping up next week. Already. I'm not yet prepared for the summer schedule, but I'm getting excited for it to be here. The Musing Family is going to have some fun. We're going to learn some new things, see some new things, and spend a lot of time enjoying old, familiar things.

Today, however, marks the beginning of another end. As of next Sunday I will no longer be coordinating our church nursery. I've begun completing some final tasks and handing off materials and duties. Today I sent out my final team email and I'll attend one last meeting.

Two years ago I stepped up to take the position of nursery coordinator. Little did I know what the job would entail. I enjoyed teaching the two-year-olds. I appreciated the care my daughter had received in the nursery. And I had a vision of what could be for that part of our church. But nobody warned me of the stresses of the job: recruiting a team for one of the least thankful roles (changing diapers? No thanks!); scheduling and staffing when the number of kids is increasing and the number of available adults is shrinking; watching parents arrive with their kids on Easter Sunday when the only volunteers that you have to work with are your own children.

There have been the joys too: seeing a child run into their classroom because they're so excited to be there (that would be a two-year-old, NOT a baby), watching a weary mom heave a great sigh of relief as you give her a one-hour break free of charge, listening to your team members get to know each other and connect in different ways.

It's been an interesting ride, this job of coordinating the early childhood wing. If given the choice I'd do it all again. But I'm not sad to pass it along. I'm more than ready. After this I'm going to have some fun - try new things, see new things and enjoy some old familiar things. Summer may not arrive for a week (or three), but my vacation starts this Sunday and I'm packed and ready to go!

A Long, Hard Day

Today it has been tough going. I woke up in pain from my right shoulder (the one I injured two years ago). This happens to me from time to time. It starts as a stinging ache and builds to a burning background roar. From past experience I know it will continue all day. Maybe it will travel to my other shoulder. Probably it will go into my wrists. I can still move, still talk, still do everything like normal, but slower and more haltingly.

On days like today I start off with an Advil. But like today, it usually doesn't help. So I take another a little bit later. And often still other until the pain is dulled to a whisper. I don't go to the doctor. What will she say? "Take an Advil", probably. There's nothing actually wrong with me. The pain will be gone tomorrow or maybe the next day. But for today it's here, distracting me. Occasionally I will forget about it and then wonder why I am on the verge of tears. All day I am on the verge of tears.

It's so tiring too. And it's hard not to get snippy or short with my children. I haven't today and I'm glad for that. Of course they'll be home soon. And there's a chance I'll get that way then, although I always hope not, always try not.

The pain makes me think of other people I know. People with real illness, real disease, real pain. A friend with rheumatoid arthritis comes to mind and I pray for her, glad that she has medicine that helps her condition. My fingers go cold and then numb from pain shooting down my arm and I think of someone from church battling a crippling, life-threatening disease. I pray for him, for healing, for mobility.

It's a hard day, a tiring day. I'll be glad for tomorrow. I'll be glad for the chance to wake up pain free. But I'm also glad for the chance to learn a little more compassion, to see a glimmer of what others go through day after day, to pray a heartfelt prayer for healing and comfort on someone else's behalf. It's a hard day, but not a wasted day. And when the next day of pain comes for me I hope that it will be profitable too.

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." Romans 5:3-5

Coming Down From the Mountain

Our church did something pretty neat this Sunday. They canceled our morning worship service and instead of gathering together, we all went out. There were five service projects in all:serving breakfast at a women's shelter, cleanup at a teen shelter, preparing a home for refugees who will arrive soon, clearing trash and excess growth from a forest preserve and finally, helping deliver a refrigerator to a woman in need.

You can guess which ones were most popular with the core members of the church: the people-oriented ones. So as part of the forest preserve team I actually had the unique opportunity of interacting with a large number of newcomers to our church. Say what you will about the lack of spiritual/relational value in clearing a forest - I loved the chance to get to know a few people with whom I'd had little previous opportunity to interact. Plus it was satisfying to see the huge difference three hours could make on a small tract of forest.

It was no surprise later at our celebration service in the evening to hear the emotional "mountain top" experiences of the people serving in direct contact with others. I was encouraged by these reports. But I'm also a bit jaded after over twenty years in this type of setting. I thought to myself as one weepy person after another shared their stories, "Sure, you feel this way today. But where will you be in another couple of months? Will you, like most other comfortable Americans, settle back into what you've always done?".

There were the determined speeches promising to do more, asking for others to commit too. All good and well, except that they were prompted by emotion, not wisdom. Even that evening as I spoke with other people about their experiences I learned the other side: some needs were too deep to be fixed with the band-aid approaches that the emotions were calling forth. And now the emails have started to fly, suggesting we add more jobs to our already over-taxed Sunday morning schedule, without taking the time to see what jobs can be dropped to accommodate them.

I'm just hoping these people who are moved by emotion to do more will take time to slow down and think more. That they will reason out steps that will work, not just the first thing they think of. I also hope as they come down off the mountain and return to the reality of people not having the time or energy they're asking for, that they don't lose faith - in God or people. We all want to do more. Some of us have no space for it right now. Some of us need to start smaller, with baby steps. And some of us are still listening to know what our part will be. I also hope they don't burn themselves out trying to do it all on their own.

My biggest desire? That more of what happened on Sunday does get incorporated into our church life. Maybe not on a weekly basis. But in a doable way that respects what we've already committed ourselves to, yet allows us to get outside ourselves and do more.

Forgive my ramblings. I'm still processing this whole deal. If you have thoughts, share them.

Retreat

I'm going away on a brief retreat this weekend. It comes at a good time. I'm ready for a little time away from the busyness of everyday. There's a lot to ponder, to process, to pray about - both good and hard. This week I've learned of two people that are facing the diagnosis of cancer. My heart feels grief for what they are going through and the challenges that lie ahead. But at the same time, I know that both of these ladies will draw strength from God in the days ahead. So while the walk is each of theirs alone to make, they won't make it alone. They'll travel it in the company of the One who made them and who knows every bit of what they face and what they need.

My family is in the process of memorizing all of Psalm 103. And I am so glad for the words there. Charity and Leslie, I pray the words of this Psalm for you - that you'll be able to praise the Lord with all your inmost being in the trials you face, that you won't forget the benefits of knowing Him, the One who knows how you are formed. I pray that a new depth of knowing that the Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love comes to you as you walk this hard journey.

Then there is also the good: in Sunday school this week they gave a presentation of the Gospel to the children. This time Timid Daughter was ready to take a stand - she prayed with her teacher that Jesus would become her forever friend:the Savior who died for her sins and the Lord whom she'll follow and obey. What grace!

What to Do?

Llama Momma broached this topic a little while back. She raised the issue of churches providing childcare for events involving women. But what if your church can't even muster enough childcare for a Sunday morning? Then what do you do?

That's where we're at where I go to church. More particularly, where I run the church nursery and two-year old class. My team roster contains ten names of wonderful, committed people. The registration for those classes is currently at 14, but will easily go to 17 once the newborns get a little older. 10 adults. 14 infants and toddlers. Can you see why this doesn't work? Especially when those adults can only be in there once a month or less (nor would I expect many to be in there more often, it's demanding work and without a second service it's a huge sacrifice), this amounts to a severe shortage. So far we've had to schedule only two weeks a month to hold our nursery and two's class. Ouch!

So what do you do? Our pastor has put out an appeal for the past two weeks. It's summer. Attendance is low. So naturally we've had virtually zero response. Still our kickoff for Fall classes is one week away and we need to know what we're doing.

Now the children's ministry coordinator has put out an email asking the whole church to pitch in and help one time before the end of the calendar year. So this may get us through til then. But when January comes, then what?

I'm praying. I'm making phone calls (which ranks up there as the number one thing I like to do least. I have a hard time even calling friends to chat. Whether it was those years taking complaints in customer service or what, I don't know. But I'd so much rather email or talk face to face than use a phone).

When it comes down to it, our church has more children than adults. We're putting a bandaid on the problem now. But does that mean it will go away? And honestly, having different people in with these little kids is so incredibly less than ideal. Do that to a grade-schooler and they'll be jarred, but they'll roll with it. For little ones? I don't know. How secure will these children be feeling by January? How hard will it be for their parents to get them to come in there?

It's a bad situation. One that I've spent the last year trying to make the best of. I've tried hard not to run a co-op where all parents have to take their turn helping if they have a child in there. It's a model that works perhaps, but doesn't necessarily serve some of the neediest people in our church. Parents of little ones need a break. I've been trying to give that to them. But instead it looks like church is going to become the last place where they'll get it.

What would you do?

Postscript: Most of the people in our church are working hard. Some of them in two and three different places. And therein lies the complication to my problem: there are few people to turn to for more help.

We've scheduled almost through December with people pitching in for one time during the semester, so the crisis has been averted. But the long-term solution has yet to be reached, and I'm honestly just not sure what that is.