Peter Enns is a biblical scholar and teacher whose work I’ve recently become aware of through the BioLogos Forum. I appreciate his approach to integrate science and faith, and I’ve learned a lot reading his blog and other articles he’s written. When I found out he was working on a Bible curriculum for kids I was excited and bought it right away!

These books begin with the Jesus rather than familiar stories from the Old Testament. It’s explained like this on the publisher’s website:

Who Jesus is and what he did is central to the Christian faith. That is why this curriculum begins with teaching children about him. Grades 1-4 will focus on what the Bible as a whole focuses on: Jesus. The emphasis will be on getting to know him by looking at who he was and what he did.

Later books will go in depth in the Old Testament. I think the idea of introducing children to Jesus first is the right one. In the past I’ve often tried to tie an Old Testament story back to Jesus, and Telling God’s Story has just taken that concept a step further.

Ultimately, the curriculum will teach children, and the adults who work though it with them, how to approach the Bible . I’ve only read part of the parent’s manual so far, but I resonated with this from the introduction: “The Bible is not a Christian owner’s manual. It bears witness to who God is, what he has done, and who we, as his people, are.” The hope is that this approach to studying the Bible with children will accomplish a deep purpose: “to encourage children to become mature, knowledgeable, and humble followers of Jesus, growing in faith.”

I’m looking forward to seeing that growth and maturity over time in my own kids and in the other kids who go along this journey with us in Telling God’s Story!

photo © 2005 Bjørn Bulthuis | more info (via: Wylio)

“Maundy” comes from the Old Latin mandatum meaning command and refers to Jesus’ words in John 13:34 “A new commandment  I give to you: Love one another as I have loved you.” Maundy Thursday helps  us remember four events in the final hours of Jesus’ life: 1) the washing of the disciples’ feet, 2) the giving of Lord’s Supper/Eucharist, 3) the agony of Gethsemane, and 4) the betrayal by Judas Iscariot.

We took the opportunity to combine Maundy Thursday with some elements from Good Friday as well. Around the room were stations set up with objects to help us enter into the story of Jesus’ last week before his death. The table was set for a shared meal which was followed by a meditation on Jesus’ Passion.  We ended our time with Communion remembering the Last Supper.

It was fun to go around to each station with my girls and watch the children engage the story through the different objects. The whole thing was interactive. My oldest daughter and her friend washed each other’s hands at the foot-washing station, they smelled oils and perfumes similar to the ones Mary anointed Jesus with, counted quarters to make sure all 30 pieces of silver Judas received as payment to betray Jesus were there, and read about the Garden of Gesthemane.

Each child also created an Easter Garden which they were able to take home. The interactive nature of the evening was a great way to teach the children and bring them into the story.

Remembering Jesus’ suffering helps build anticipation and longing in me for the Resurrection. Entering into Jesus’ story the way we did Thursday night makes it all seem much more real and removes some of the familiarity. This year for some reason I was especially struck by Peter’s denial  of Jesus and have contemplated ways I deny Jesus.

As it turned out, everyone who came Thursday night had been in a group together years ago. We’ve all since gone on to start new groups. I was encouraged to be with all of them once again in my home, and I was excited to think about how we’ve all grown personally, taken risks, and are doing our best to live lives of mission.

They have all played a role in serving and loving me.  It was a perfect way way to spend a night remembering Jesus’ command to his disciples to love one another.

photo © 2007 Stephen Cummings | more info (via: Wylio) 

This past Sunday was one of those weeks. One of those weeks when the kids are just nuts! Loud happy play, loud unhappy crying, toddlers getting into everything, lots of tattling, attention spans even shorter than usual, etc.

But, we persevered. I do believe, perhaps naively, that they are getting something out of it even when they don’t seem to be.

As it was Palm Sunday and we were wrapping up our Lent series of Psalm 23, I merged the two together into one lesson. First, we went back over the entire Psalm 23 which the oldest children know by heart and the younger ones seem to know about half of. The final verse of Psalm 23 says, “Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

I shared with the children that the verb “follow” in the Hebrew means “to pursue.” Being pursued has a different feeling to it than being followed as a pursuer most often intends to overtake you! Imagine being overtaken by God’s goodness and love! We experienced this by first following and then chasing the children to show them the difference between being followed and being pursued.

After our game of chase we transitioned into Palm Sunday and the story of the Triumphal Entry. I told the kids that the biggest way God chased after us with his goodness and love was by sending his Son, Jesus, to show us just how wide, and long, and high, and deep his love is for us.

We reenacted the story with one of the daddies being a good sport and taking on the role of donkey while his son rode on his back pretending to be Jesus. The rest of us threw palm branches to the ground which my girls had fashioned out of cardboard and construction paper earlier that morning and shouted “Hosanna!”

During most of this time it seemed at least one child was having a meltdown or wandering off or interrupting to talk about something unrelated. It was one of those weeks when I think to myself that we’re crazy and should just go to a “normal” church!

But, then I remembered a couple of things. First, research shows that when it comes to discipleship the most significant influence on a child is his or her parents having a vibrant spiritual life. I see the Treasure Box time as an opportunity to plant a seed which the parents will water throughout the week. Equally important, I believe setting aside time for the kids helps them feel like they are an vital part of our gathering as too often adult conversations are “boring” and sometimes inappropriate.

Now, as for the yelling and interrupting that happened even after the Treasure Box time, I remind myself it’s a family gathering. Sometimes at large family gatherings the children are little angels, and sometimes they behave monstrously! But, in either case, they are children who are learning how to get along with and love each other as well as how to behave in different environments and contexts. It is my job as an adult, and the job of the other adults in the groups, to help the children learn and grow in both areas.

It’s weeks like last week where I realize I probably learned and grew even more than the children did!

The table was set with lots of the kids’ favorite foods including mac-n-cheese, chicken nuggets, and strawberries! There were cards with each child’s name set at their spot at the table making them feel even more special. We gathered around the table, and while the children started snacking on the yummy food we practiced saying the entire Psalm 23 from memory and reminded the kids what we’ve been learning the past few weeks.

Then Carla took over and did a fun activity with the kids to demonstrate what it means for your cup to overflow. She brought small paper bathroom cups and candy. She talked about how all the blessings from God are what fills up our cups until they overflow and asked the kids to think about good things God gives them. As each child said something they were grateful for they put a candy in their cup. Eventually all the cups were overflowing!

We closed in prayer and thanked God for preparing such a wonderful table for us and for all the gifts in our lives, and enjoyed our lunch together.

photo © 2010 godo godaj | more info (via: Wylio)

My car sped along the dangerously winding road. Years ago, before they widened it, white crosses dotted the roadside from numerous traffic fatalities. Still, it was not uncommon for a driver to lose control swerving off the road into a tree.

The painted, double yellow line was all that separated me from the oncoming traffic. It wouldn’t have taken much effort to simply cross it into the other lanes. At the speeds we were all traveling I didn’t doubt that I would die. In fact, I hoped I would.

Yet, one thought pierced through the sinister ones — “What would they feed the baby?”

I was breastfeeding after all, despite the fact that I was only going to “try” it. Hours were spent practicing her latch, counting wet diapers, and making sure I fed her often enough. It was the only thing I seemed to be able to do right as a new mother. Make milk.

Her birth traumatized my body so much that I couldn’t sit properly for weeks. When she cried I didn’t know what to do or how to comfort her. Holding, walking, rocking never seemed to help. Nursing, though, that almost always helped. Nursing was difficult and excruciatingly painful at first, but it worked. Besides, all the literature told me “breast is best.”

“I can’t kill myself because she needs my milk,” I thought.

The darkness I walked in after her birth was overwhelming. Most of my memories of the first few months of her life seem to be in black and white. There is no joy, no happy-shiny-mommy-moment I can recall. The loneliness and sadness I felt were excruciating, and my thoughts were not rational.

I believed I was useless as a mother and that she’d be better off without me.

My midwife screened me for post-partum depression at my 6-week check up asking me about my moods, if I cried a lot or for no reason, how I was sleeping, etc. I lied and told her I was happy, that I was fine. Speaking the truth would only have served to confirm my utter failure as a mother. So, I pretended to my midwife and to everyone that I was okay.

Slowly, over months, the fog of depression began to lift. My ability to cope with everyday events became stronger and I stopped feeling as overwhelmed. I quit calling my husband at work crying about how unhappy I was and asking him when he’d be home to help me with the baby. I felt more confident and content.

As that baby’s 9^th birthday approaches, I look back and feel sad for what seems like lost time, grateful that I got better and that it didn’t happen again after the birth of my second child, and still somewhat ashamed of my fragility during that time. I also feel guilty that those months of my depression may have contributed to the current problems with ADHD and a mood disorder my daughter struggles with.

But the shame and guilt is quickly removed by a whisper of grace. The whisper says I don’t have to be perfect at anything, including being a mom. It says grace is all I need for my past, for today, and for what is to come in my future. I chose then and choose now to believe that whisper of grace.

photo © 1998 Russ | more info (via: Wylio)

This was a bit more challenging to me because we have mostly younger, preschool aged children in our group and I didn’t want to make the lesson too scary for them. Sometimes even just the suggestion of something scary earlier in the day can lead to several nights of bedtime drama in our house, and I didn’t want to cause that for the other parents in our group.

First we practiced reciting the Psalm which we’re all getting the down fairly well (except for the confusion about which version we’re memorizing!). Then I asked them what they think the “valley of the shadow of death” might be like. One little boy told an imaginative story about flying and dragons and other stuff I didn’t quite make out, but it sounded exciting.

After that I had the children close their eyes and imagine a time when they were scared or to think about something that makes them scared. I asked them if they’re alone in whatever it is they’re imagining. Everyone answered yes.

Then we talked about how our Good Shepherd is always with us just like the verse says, and we don’t have to be afraid. I also suggested that to be comforted by the shepherd’s staff the sheep have to stay close to the shepherd. But, if a sheep does wander off the shepherd will always go and find it (Luke 15.1-7).

Next I read them the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from Daniel 3 out of The Children’s Illustrated Bible. We talked about how scared the boys must have been, but that God sent an angel to be with them and protect them in the furnace.

We closed with a few moments being silent and listening to God before praying together.  The children are all growing in their ability to remain still and quiet which is encouraging to see.

photo © 2006 Brian | more info (via: Wylio)

The kids went on a scavenger hunt. But this wasn’t just any scavenger hunt. There was a leader or shepherd and the rest of the children were sheep. There was also one rule which was to not go behind a gated area in the backyard of the home where we met. The shepherd’s job was to lead the sheep on the right path. 

On each clue card was a choice to go one place or another. Some of the clue cards suggested the gated area as a choice and the shepherd and sheep had to decide whether to go there. In fact, one clue card said there would be a prize in the gated area making that choice, or path, even more enticing.

I am pleased to say that the kids did not go into the gated area even after being tempted by a prize. Rather, they chose the path leading them back into the house for a prize.

Afterwards the sheep agreed that their shepherd had done a great job leading them on the right path. We also discussed the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 and how the disciples had to do what Jesus said, or follow the path Jesus laid out, even though it didn’t make any sense to feed such a great crowd with just 5 fish and 2 loaves.  After we wrapped up they went back outside to create more scavenger hunts!

Before Communion we had the children be quiet and still for a moment like we’ve done in previous weeks. The children also shared prayer requests and what they heard God tell them during the still moment. My favorite was God telling one little boy to eat healthy food.

I was especially pleased this week with the input from the adults — including reminding me I’d forgotten to do the time practicing stillness!

photo © 2007 Nonie | more info (via: Wylio)

I feel as though there’s never enough time. It’s as if I’m holding a bag full of tiny clocks each representing different amounts of minutes or hours, and throughout the day tasks, “have-to’s,” and “should’s” snatch those clocks from the bag. A minute here, thirty minutes there, two hours there. Before I know it the sun is setting. I still have “miles to go before I sleep,” and I’m frustrated over all the things that I didn’t get done, or never even started.

There’s a scarcity of time. 

Yet, part of what makes me feel this scarcity is the richness of relationships I have. Both my husband’s and my families live in town so our children can see their grandparents often. We are surrounded by many friends from different circles and seem to make more friends all the time. Opportunities to be with people are frequent.

As I reflected the other day on the number of significant relationships in my life and the lack of time to invest in them as deeply as I want to, something occurred to me.

I am not generous with my time.

I hoard my time. My time.

But, does the time really belong to me? Or is it God’s time which he entrusts to me?

I’ve been thinking about this often over Lent and asking God how I can be more generous with my time. As an introvert I don’t want to overdo it. I could burn out quickly and have before. This has led me to be extra careful with my time.

Maybe too careful.

Reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp the other day I came across a paragraph which resonated with me. It’s in complete antithesis to how I’ve been feeling as if there isn’t enough time:

“I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I’m growing older. These children are growing up. But time is not running out. (emphasis mine) This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.”

For the rest of Lent and beyond I want to learn how to see time as something I am gaining. I want to look for opportunities to give generously from that bag of tiny clocks rather than stingily hold onto it like Ebenezer Scrooge.

I believe the way to generosity is being fully present to and having gratitude for every moment of my day. Grasping for minutes and seconds can be replaced with multiplying hours. There is enough time for me to do the most important things to be done if I am attentive to each moment and respond with thankfulness to the One who has gifted me with an eternity.

Do you hoard time or feel like it’s slipping through your fingers? How do you slow down and be present the moments you’re gifted with every day?

photo © 2007 Diego Torres Silvestre | more info (via: Wylio)

To guide the kids in an experience of the contrast between quiet waters and stormy waters they acted out the story of Jesus calming the storm in Mark 4. When the storm came in and the wind blew hard and the waves crashed over the side of the boat, the children pretended to be rocking violently and acted very afraid. Then, they woke Jesus (one of the men in our group) napping in the boat. He commanded the storm to stop and everything was calm again.

We talked about how sometimes there are storms inside of us. There are times we feel very angry or scared or out of control. But, Jesus can calm the storm inside of us because he is the Good Shepherd who leads us beside quiet waters.

Then, we spent a moment being quiet and asking Jesus to calm our minds and hearts like the quiet waters. Though they protested at first, the children were able to sit quietly for a whole minute — quite a feat for this bunch of active children! We then practiced the first two verses of Psalm 23 which we’re memorizing as a group and closed in prayer thanking God for taking such good care of us.

Bind up these broken bones
Mercy bend and breathe me back to life
But not before You show me how to die

“Show Me” by Audrey Assad: