Children's Sermon

Earlier this month, our pastors asked for help delivering the sermon during the First Sunday of Advent.

I agreed to help for a few reasons:

1. Their family would be out of town on vacation;
2. Holding a lay-led service would shave costs from our budget;
3. Creativity might allow for the normality of a children's sermon.

As our church's Sunday School superintendent, I knew our children would miss class this week. We'd planned a break to allow families time away during the long Thanksgiving weekend. Still my heart went out to those children coming to church. How could I draw them in as our pastors always do when they lead our Sunday service?

I wondered: After reading the Pastor's reflection on Advent, should I invite the children forward while I continue with the story book about the actual man who became known as Saint Nicholas?

I realized: Sitting with kids on the sanctuary steps, with a microphone in my one hand and a big picture book in my other hand while trying to turn pages as I read aloud might be a bit cumbersome.

I thought: There must be another way.

I re-read the Advent reflection. The words "Advent Calendar" stuck. I smiled and knew exactly what to do. Noah loves to get trinkets when the pastors hand them out during the Children's Sermon.

A couple weeks ago, I'd found a stack of Advent calendars stashed in a basket on the Sunday School supply shelf. Why not tie in the gospel reading about waiting for Jesus' return to Earth along with the Advent calendars and waiting for Jesus' birthday?

On a piece of paper, I scribbled a couple questions to ask the children, briefly explained – in simple words – the gospel and its relevance to Advent and made an offer for each child to take home a calendar and have their families help them open one window each day to wait for Christmas.

At this morning's early service, our lay-leader full-heartedly agreed about inserting a Children's Sermon into our program as long as I (and not she) presented it. So after Isaac read from the gospel of Mark chapter 13 verses 24-37, I followed up with my intention to draw-in our children.

The program went so well, I left the notes and Advent calendars on the pulpit for the second service when another lay team would lead the congregation. I stuck around during the coffee hour to organize costumes for our Christmas program with another Sunday School teacher who happened to be home for the weekend.

A few minutes before the second service's start, I sought out the sermon presenter. He'd found everything I'd left out and quickly asked, "What's that bit about 'Children's Sermon?'"

"Oh, just something I whipped up for the children," I said knowing that he would be a bit baffled. (In the past when he's read the Pastor's sermon, he's always smiled and half-laughed while excusing himself from not having prepared a Children's Sermon. And I confess, this habit of his was another factor that motivated me into action. I sort of wanted to see him squirm.) He looked around the sanctuary and quipped, "What children? I don't see any children."

I smiled and half-laughed, "Oh! They're here. We had a bunch at first service. And I've seen more hanging out downstairs waiting for second service. Maybe you'd like to draw them in with a Children's Sermon?"

"OOO! I think that's got your name written all over it, Wendy!" he said. Satisfied with his reaction, I nodded, "That's fine! I'll stay."

Soon I came forward once again to explain:

"When all the windows are open, the wait will be over.

Let's pray:


Lord, open our hearts and minds as we wait for you. Amen."

And now my wait was over. Mission accomplished via this Children's Sermon!

Let It Snow

From

first

light






to

midday





and

almost

night...

Let it Snow!

Happy Thanksgiving

Tis

a

gift

to

be

simple





'Tis

a

gift

to

be

free




'Tis

a

gift

to

come

down



Where

we

ought

to

be


And when
we find
ourselves



In that
place
just right





We will be
in the
valley


Of Love
and delight.



Making a new holiday tradition at home with simple fare, fun and prayer. Happy Thanksgiving to You too!

This Beast

Can

you

solve

THIS

Beast?



It

takes



a

while


longer...







BUT



I



DID.




Raising the bar with Captain Isaac!

To Remind You

of Norway the Summer of 1957.

There was something satisfying in those simple words written in white calligraphy on the black pages of Great Grandma Lena's scrapbook.

She received this collection of photographs from her young niece who'd collected images during the one-and-only visit Lena paid to her homeland in 1957 – 51 years after immigrating to the United States.

I paged through the album earlier this summer with Lena's granddaughters before our Norway Bound trip. They helped uncover mysteries, like this one – of memorabilia.

I received a Nordic sweater from Dan's dad in 2004 after his mom (Lena's last surviving child) died. Neither he nor his sister recognized the sweater. Since I collect all-things Norwegian, he gave me the sweater and shrugged when I asked, "Could it have been Lena's?"

The sweater had no tags. Its wristbands and waistband were basket weaved not ribbed. The pewter buttons were secured with handmade loops, not holes. All these traits indicated a hand-knit sweater. Yet no one remembered Lena knitting such sweaters. The orange, tan, light green and dark brown colors against the off-white background indicated the garment's mid-1900s fashion. I washed and stored the garment in wonder.

Paging through Lena's scrapbook this summer, her granddaughter pointed to a particular photo of Lena. "Look! There's Grandma in her sweater," she said. "I remember her wearing that. It was tan, orange and brown."

My eyes bulged. Quietly, I slipped into the bedroom and retrieved the mysterious garment I'd packed away years ago. I brought it to the granddaughter who cried out, "Grandma's sweater!"

The picture in the Lena's scrapbook triggered her granddaughter's memory. Wearing the Norwegian sweater in this photo most likely indicates that Lena added the garment to her wardrobe during that three-month stay in her homeland.

Our summer travels unraveled many mysteries about Grandma Lena's immigration. Lena's nieces, nephews and their children extended incredible hospitality and offered great help answering our many questions. How does one properly offer gratitude – for a such visit that just happened to occur 51 years after Grandma Lena's return?

Appreci-
ating how photographs jog the memory, I decided to collect highlights of our visit in a small album and send it to Grandma's niece. In a few days, she should received the collection and see handwritten on its white pages:

To Remind You of our four days in Trøndelag the Summer of 2008.

The Burning Bush

All alone. In the middle of a golden field, it caught my eye.

We'll weather...

... the weather


whatever
the weather,


whether
we like it
or not.

Celebrating November's frozen ponds and snow-dustings with quotes from "Little Bear" here Along Life's Road.

SpaceCraft Virus

His science assignment entailed making a functioning model of a spacecraft virus.

Aaron recycled a toilet paper roll, yogurt cup and translucent prescription bottle for the body, neck and head of the virus model.

Then based on Aaron's concept description, Mom used duct tape, a pencil and plastic lid to form a circular, revolving release that attached onto a pencil and fit inside the toilet paper roll. This mechanism would hold the virus "babies" (i.e. lentils) in the head until (the pencil was turned and) they were released out the end of the body into the blood stream.

With that working, Aaron used other household goodies, such as glitter piper cleaners and cotton balls to finish the detail work (collar, tail fibers, baseplate, body texture, etc.) on the virus model.

In the classroom, Aaron explained the model's parts, demonstrated the release procedure and earned 100 percent. At the period's end, students put their heads down on their desk and voted for the most creative model.

"Guess who won?" Aaron asked when he came home from school today. I rolled my eyes, "YOU?"

"Yep!" he reported noting his ingenious combination of "garbage" earned him a place in SpaceCraft Virus history – in his teacher's digital-
photograph collection. Aaron said, "Some day Noah might see my model in seventh-grade science class!"

Goro Guru Turns Eight

Whip an egg light
and fluffy.
Add 6 Tbsp of sugar.
Grate half a lemon.
Stir into egg mixture.
Add 1 Tbsp of cognac.
Mix in 1/2 tsp of cardamom.
Beat 6 Tbsp of
whipping cream stiff.
Add to egg mixture.
Melt one heaping
cup of butter.
Mix two cups flour with
4 Tbsp corn starch.


Add alternately to egg mixture, the melted butter and dry ingredients. The dough should be quite thin. Cover well. Refrigerate overnight or until a butter knife stands straight up in the dough.

Cut a wax paper pattern the exact size
of the goro iron.
Roll out the dough on a board sprinkled with powdered sugar.
Lay pattern on top and cut to size.
Put cakes on a hot iron.
Squeeze shut.
Bake both sides
on the stove top.
The finished cakes
should be a
delicate pale yellow.


Remove
from
iron.


Separate

cakes and

trim edges

while cakes

are warm.


Cool.

Stack.

Taste
the
imperfections.

Mmmm...

A fancy Norwegian
shortbread.


Offer
the
best
to
guests

celebrating
the
eighth
birthday

of
a
Goro
Guru.

Posted...

on the bulletin board at the Post Office today, this note caught my eye and I read:


COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

Think of it this way.

If you woke up this morning with more health than illness… you are more fortunate than the million who will not survive this week.

If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation… you are ahead of 500 million people in the world.

If you can attend a church meeting without fear of harassment, arrest, torture or death… you are fortunate. More than 3 billion people in the world can't.

If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep… you are richer than 75 percent of this world.

If you have money in the bank, in your wallet and spare change in a dish someplace… you are among the top 8 percent of the world's wealthy.

If your parents are still alive and still married… you are rare, even in the United States.

If you hold up your head with a smile on your face and are truly thankful… you are blessed because the majority can, but most do not.

If you can read this message, you just received double the blessing. Someone was thinking of you; and furthermore, you can read… more than 2 billion people in the world cannot read at all.

Have a good day. And Count Your Blessings!




I added to mine:

Being able

to walk

in the rain

to work.

The Torch

He's not the fastest.
He's not the strongest.
But Isaac did have one thing going for him.

"How does it feel to have single-handedly brought the Rubik's Cube craze to PHS?" the senior girl's cross-
country captain asked Isaac during preparations for the team banquet. Isaac shrugged pasting a photocopy of the 3-D puzzle (and running photos) onto his page for the coach's scrapbook.

During this third year as a cross-country runner, Isaac spent the transport time to meets sitting on the bus solving the Rubik's Cube.

"Here," Isaac said handing the puzzle to various teammates. "Mess it up and I'll solve it in less than two minutes." (Thanks YouTube!)

Soon other runners brought their own Rubik's Cubes along for ride. Isaac taught them how to solve the puzzle and a new kind of racing began. In these competitions, Isaac sped to the finish unbeaten, inspiring and encouraging others to near their own solving times to his 1:08 minutes. Together, the team's enthusiasm sparked other high-school students to pick up a puzzle too.

At today's cross-country team banquet, Isaac went forward to receive two items:

an orange-plastic flag permanently marked "Rubix's Award" – bestowed (tongue-in-cheek) by the team captains;


and autumn-colored leaves woven into a white-plastic fork permanently marked "Captain's Torch." This token showed the honor his team voted Isaac to carry next season.


Fast?
Strong?
Inspiring...
The Torch.