Note: In June of this year, I became a catechumen (a person officially preparing to be received into the church) of the Orthodox Church in America. The following is a journal entry from April 2012 about the first time I stepped into an American Orthodox church. If you have questions about the Orthodox church, why I chose to convert, or anything along those lines, I'd be happy to try to answer them (or find someone who can answer them, as I'm still learning myself.) I'd also suggest looking at the Orthodox Church in America website.
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Sunday, July 19, 2009
My kids...
No, I'm not a mother. No, I don't have any younger siblings that I constantly care for. But, yes, I have kids. My kids are the kids in the Tullahoma First Kids Choir, and they are all such precious children.
Today they performed in "big church" for all the adults. They were all so excited, and they were all so good! They made me so proud, I almost cried.
As I've written before, each one has a unique story. You may remember reading about Ashley and her brother. (Her brother is still quite the handful, but aside from a few small tantrums now and then, Ashley has greatly improved!) Well, I'd like to tell you another story from my family of munchkins.
Michael* (*name changed) has had a rough summer. He is one of the bus kids that the church picks up for service because the parents don't come. Earlier in the summer, Michael lost his grandfather, the man who had taken care of him since he was a very small child. He is now living with his mom, and things aren't going as well as they could be. He has many problems, poor thing, some of which a child should not have to deal with.
Today, Michael had a solo part in one of the songs. When his mom dropped him off at the church early, she promised she'd be back to hear him.
As the kids were lining up, one of the adults asked, "Is your mom here?"
"I don't know."
"Is she coming back to hear you?"
A shrug of the shoulders is all she got in reply.
"Well, is she coming to take you home?"
Again, no definite answer.
"Well, if she doesn't come, we'll be sure that you get home."
Michael and the others headed out on stage. No mom. I have never seen a child go from lighthearted to brokenhearted so fast. He'd never show it; he's a "tough guy." But you could tell that it hurt him that his mom never came.
It's for kids like Michael that I keep working with children. In spite of the hard work, long hours, exasperating tantrums and seemingly endless list of complicated situations that come with it, it's worth it. If I can make one child feel loved, even if it's just once a week, then it's worth it.
And I have faith that Michael and every single one of my children can and will grow up to be beautiful sons and daughters of God, no matter their situations now, no matter how hard a hand life seems to have dealt them.
So, if you think about it, say a little prayer for my kids now and then, will you? For all the children growing up in this world today, I say a prayer.
Today they performed in "big church" for all the adults. They were all so excited, and they were all so good! They made me so proud, I almost cried.
As I've written before, each one has a unique story. You may remember reading about Ashley and her brother. (Her brother is still quite the handful, but aside from a few small tantrums now and then, Ashley has greatly improved!) Well, I'd like to tell you another story from my family of munchkins.
Michael* (*name changed) has had a rough summer. He is one of the bus kids that the church picks up for service because the parents don't come. Earlier in the summer, Michael lost his grandfather, the man who had taken care of him since he was a very small child. He is now living with his mom, and things aren't going as well as they could be. He has many problems, poor thing, some of which a child should not have to deal with.
Today, Michael had a solo part in one of the songs. When his mom dropped him off at the church early, she promised she'd be back to hear him.
As the kids were lining up, one of the adults asked, "Is your mom here?"
"I don't know."
"Is she coming back to hear you?"
A shrug of the shoulders is all she got in reply.
"Well, is she coming to take you home?"
Again, no definite answer.
"Well, if she doesn't come, we'll be sure that you get home."
Michael and the others headed out on stage. No mom. I have never seen a child go from lighthearted to brokenhearted so fast. He'd never show it; he's a "tough guy." But you could tell that it hurt him that his mom never came.
It's for kids like Michael that I keep working with children. In spite of the hard work, long hours, exasperating tantrums and seemingly endless list of complicated situations that come with it, it's worth it. If I can make one child feel loved, even if it's just once a week, then it's worth it.
And I have faith that Michael and every single one of my children can and will grow up to be beautiful sons and daughters of God, no matter their situations now, no matter how hard a hand life seems to have dealt them.
So, if you think about it, say a little prayer for my kids now and then, will you? For all the children growing up in this world today, I say a prayer.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Learning to love
I've had the absolute honor this summer to work with my church's kids this summer during Wednesday night Kids Choir. They come from all different backgrounds: some grew up in the church, some started coming on the bus program that we recently initiated, and some just wandered into our doors. Some are a bit too hyper for their own good, others barely utter a word. All of them are special, and all of them have their own stories.
But sometimes, I admit, I'm too quick to judge those that walk through our doors each week. I had always been taught not to judge, and I thought I was a fairly impartial, "love everyone" kind of girl. Sure, some of the kids grated on my nerves from time to time, but I still could look past that and find something lovable in each!
Then I met 4-year-old Ashley* and her younger brother Todd. They started coming to Kids' Choir a few weeks before I arrived home from school. They were inseparable, and they were out of control. The director couldn't deal with just those two; she had 14 other kids who needed to learn songs and dances. And she expected me to be right next to her helping with the motions. My sister, who also volunteers with the kids, was running sound. So the only person left to deal with Ashley and Todd was an older lady volunteer whose disciplinary method was yelling and threats. And that wasn't working either.
I thought I had met my match, that there was no way to connect to these two children, that they were incapable of joining the group and behaving. But God had a thing or two to teach me.
One week, the director announced that she would be out of town that next week. As Wednesday night approached, the other volunteer had to schedule an emergency trip to Nashville that would require her to miss church. So guess who was left to run Kids' Choir? Yes, that's right: my sister and me.
Things were already hectic: getting everything together for snack time, finding the music and the words, making sure the sound system was actually working. Then the kids came tumbling in. The last two through the door (and I had to go outside and make them come in) were Ashley and Todd. Within the first 5 minutes, I knew that night had potential to go very badly if we couldn't figure out some way to keep them at least minutely under control.
Thankfully, we had enlisted the help of someone who knew how to handle some pretty unmanageable children: my mother. She made it her task to watch Ashley and Todd so that I could teach the other 11 children.
At first, they were wild as ever. Ashley spent an elongated amount of time in the bathroom when she first came in, and when she finally did come out, it looked like she'd been playing in the water. She treated Todd like her baby, not letting him leave her side and insisting on picking him up, even though she is not much bigger than he is. It was very distracting for the other kids and for me. I found myself getting more and more irritated with them. Even my mother, God bless her, couldn't put a dent in their behavior.
But about halfway through the night, two things happened. First, some of the older kids started talking to Ashley about how she should be a good example for her brother. Because it came from the other kids, she started listening a little. Secondly, my mother persuaded them to separate. At the time, I had no idea how she did it, but it worked! Ashley started learning the dance and singing with the big kids (who immediately just took her under their wing). And my mother watched and played with Todd. He still didn't participate, but he at least stayed out of trouble.
It wasn't until we were on our way home that the whole story unfolded. Mom had pulled Ashley aside and talked to her, and Ashley told her a little bit of what went on at home: how she (almost 5 years old, mind you) cleaned her room and the bathroom, how Todd followed her everywhere she went, and how she was really exasperated by having to watch him all the time but he was her responsibility. Remember her long stay in the bathroom? She was cleaning. Suddenly, her constant references to herself as his momma made sense. This little girl didn't have the chance to really be a little girl!
Then I found out what my mother had done to make such a difference: she had explained to Ashley that when she was at Kids' Choir, she didn't have to watch her brother. She could just be a kid. So Mom took over watching Todd, and Ashley got to be a little girl.
I felt really ashamed of myself that night. I had not even taken the time to learn about Ashley and Todd's story. I had just assumed that someone else already knew and had taken that into consideration. Suddenly, being upset with that little girl seemed like such a foolish idea.
Ashley and Todd haven't been back to Kids' Choir yet, but I hope to see them next week. And my mother has already volunteered to watch Todd so that his sister doesn't have to worry about a thing.
I learned a valuable lesson that night. Everyone deserves to see the love of God in our lives, no matter how we see them through our eyes. God loves each and every person in spite of how they act or what they've been through. The least I can do is try to show the same love. Yes, the kids will still annoy me sometimes, and sure, I'll have to be the authority figure, but I can try to better understand why they do something instead of always just telling them to fix it on their own.
Thank you, Lord, for loving me, and for teaching me to love those that You love. Amen.
*All names have been changed.
But sometimes, I admit, I'm too quick to judge those that walk through our doors each week. I had always been taught not to judge, and I thought I was a fairly impartial, "love everyone" kind of girl. Sure, some of the kids grated on my nerves from time to time, but I still could look past that and find something lovable in each!
Then I met 4-year-old Ashley* and her younger brother Todd. They started coming to Kids' Choir a few weeks before I arrived home from school. They were inseparable, and they were out of control. The director couldn't deal with just those two; she had 14 other kids who needed to learn songs and dances. And she expected me to be right next to her helping with the motions. My sister, who also volunteers with the kids, was running sound. So the only person left to deal with Ashley and Todd was an older lady volunteer whose disciplinary method was yelling and threats. And that wasn't working either.
I thought I had met my match, that there was no way to connect to these two children, that they were incapable of joining the group and behaving. But God had a thing or two to teach me.
One week, the director announced that she would be out of town that next week. As Wednesday night approached, the other volunteer had to schedule an emergency trip to Nashville that would require her to miss church. So guess who was left to run Kids' Choir? Yes, that's right: my sister and me.
Things were already hectic: getting everything together for snack time, finding the music and the words, making sure the sound system was actually working. Then the kids came tumbling in. The last two through the door (and I had to go outside and make them come in) were Ashley and Todd. Within the first 5 minutes, I knew that night had potential to go very badly if we couldn't figure out some way to keep them at least minutely under control.
Thankfully, we had enlisted the help of someone who knew how to handle some pretty unmanageable children: my mother. She made it her task to watch Ashley and Todd so that I could teach the other 11 children.
At first, they were wild as ever. Ashley spent an elongated amount of time in the bathroom when she first came in, and when she finally did come out, it looked like she'd been playing in the water. She treated Todd like her baby, not letting him leave her side and insisting on picking him up, even though she is not much bigger than he is. It was very distracting for the other kids and for me. I found myself getting more and more irritated with them. Even my mother, God bless her, couldn't put a dent in their behavior.
But about halfway through the night, two things happened. First, some of the older kids started talking to Ashley about how she should be a good example for her brother. Because it came from the other kids, she started listening a little. Secondly, my mother persuaded them to separate. At the time, I had no idea how she did it, but it worked! Ashley started learning the dance and singing with the big kids (who immediately just took her under their wing). And my mother watched and played with Todd. He still didn't participate, but he at least stayed out of trouble.
It wasn't until we were on our way home that the whole story unfolded. Mom had pulled Ashley aside and talked to her, and Ashley told her a little bit of what went on at home: how she (almost 5 years old, mind you) cleaned her room and the bathroom, how Todd followed her everywhere she went, and how she was really exasperated by having to watch him all the time but he was her responsibility. Remember her long stay in the bathroom? She was cleaning. Suddenly, her constant references to herself as his momma made sense. This little girl didn't have the chance to really be a little girl!
Then I found out what my mother had done to make such a difference: she had explained to Ashley that when she was at Kids' Choir, she didn't have to watch her brother. She could just be a kid. So Mom took over watching Todd, and Ashley got to be a little girl.
I felt really ashamed of myself that night. I had not even taken the time to learn about Ashley and Todd's story. I had just assumed that someone else already knew and had taken that into consideration. Suddenly, being upset with that little girl seemed like such a foolish idea.
Ashley and Todd haven't been back to Kids' Choir yet, but I hope to see them next week. And my mother has already volunteered to watch Todd so that his sister doesn't have to worry about a thing.
I learned a valuable lesson that night. Everyone deserves to see the love of God in our lives, no matter how we see them through our eyes. God loves each and every person in spite of how they act or what they've been through. The least I can do is try to show the same love. Yes, the kids will still annoy me sometimes, and sure, I'll have to be the authority figure, but I can try to better understand why they do something instead of always just telling them to fix it on their own.
Thank you, Lord, for loving me, and for teaching me to love those that You love. Amen.
*All names have been changed.
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