Just thought I'd let you know I have established a new blog which contains my most recent musings and writings. The address is:
http://karencollum.wordpress.com
Thanks for reading!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Like a Child
Stop being so childish. Grow up. Act your age…reprimands that as an adult I have both given and received. It is true – there is a time to grow up and learn to deal with things in an adult fashion. In 1 Corinthians 13:11 Paul makes this observation about himself: “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” (NIV) Like Paul, I want to put my childish ways behind me. I have to remind myself that there is no longer a place for foot stomping, temper tantrums or a world view that revolves around ‘me, me me’...as tempting as they may sound.
But there is a place for child-likeness. There is a place for a child’s heart. Jesus says so. In a world that didn’t value the young, Jesus placed great worth upon these little ones. We are familiar with the image of him blessing the children, but there’s more to it than that. Look closely at the words Jesus spoke:
“Some people brought their little children to Jesus so he could touch them, but his followers told them to stop. When Jesus saw this, he was upset and said to them, "Let the little children come to me. Don't stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to people who are like these children. I tell you the truth, you must accept the kingdom of God as if you were a little child, or you will never enter it." Then Jesus took the children in his arms, put his hands on them, and blessed them. (Mark 10:13-16; NCV, emphasis mine)
With a toddler of my own, I’m beginning to get a sense of what he was talking about. There is no doubt in my mind that God has a special place in his heart for children. Otherwise, why would that beautiful, whimsical and sheer delightful world of the child have been part of his plan? Surely we could have been born knowing what we needed to know, self-reliant and independent from the get go. There is something important about the process of growing up, something of which we are never supposed to forget. As I watch the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual development of my son, I can’t help but learn a lot about myself, my faith and my God in the process.
Two-year-old Possum loves the Sabbath School lesson. He had heard the same story every night for a month but was still excited by it, his little mind comprehending the basics of the account. Peter and John came across a lame man, and in the name of Jesus were able to heal him. Every night Possum questioned why the man couldn’t walk and every night I explained that his legs were ‘broken’ but that through the power of Jesus he was healed and could walk again. There were hoorays and claps from my little one when the man stood up upon his healing. By the end of the month he knew the story so well he could complete the sentences and help tell the narrative.
A few weeks later we were out at the clothesline hanging out the never-ending mountain of washing that our household seems to generate. There was a large beetle under the clothesline that was distinctly…well…dead. All six feet were in the air and the beetle lay motionless on its back. Possum, curious, went to investigate.
“Mummy, why beetle not moving?” he asked me, earnest eyes looking for the explanation that would satisfy his thirst for knowledge.
“Because the beetle is dead, darling,” I replied. He had a basic knowledge of death having just been to the funeral of a much-loved church member.
“Like Rosie died?” he asked, just checking his understanding.
“That’s right, just like Rosie,” I responded, pegging another item on the line. Little Possum pondered for a moment and crouched down on his haunches over the beetle, like only a toddler can. With the confident voice of authority he spoke.
“In the name of Jesus, stand up and walk.” I stifled my giggles of delight at his faith and knelt over the beetle with him, explaining that although Jesus could heal the beetle, we would probably have to wait until he came back again and took us all back to live with him for that to happen. But the magnitude of Possum's statement struck me. He had greater faith than I. And upon reflection, I may not have been surprised to see the beetle roll over and start walking. What I had processed and rationalised through my adult mind as an impossibility, Possum viewed as an opportunity for God to heal. The story is cute, but more importantly it is a profound example of what it means to have faith like a child.
I have also learned the power of forgiveness from Possum. We had a particularly trying Tuesday where he was being what can only be described as two (anyone with a toddler will understand). He had been reprimanded severely for running away from me at playgroup.
Later that night at bedtime prayers I took the opportunity to have our first real discussion about sin and how we can ask Jesus to forgive us. A simplistic explanation, yes, but it was enough for a two-year-old to grasp. When I asked Possum what he had done that was wrong he said very sincerely, “My runned ‘way from Mummy.” I told him how he could pray and ask Jesus to forgive him and everything would be OK again. As he bowed his head, tears filled my eyes as the little voice next to me said, “Dear Jesus, please ‘give me for running ‘way from Mummy. Amen.” Opening my eyes I looked upon his face to see it glowing. I can honestly say he felt the burden of sin lifted from his tiny shoulders. He felt and knew the power of forgiveness. I don’t know if I can ever recall experiencing that myself in such a tangible way, but through my little boy I was privileged to bear witness to another one of heaven’s miracles.
In The Adventist Home, Ellen G White talks about how powerful the presence of God can be in our little ones’ lives. Commenting on Jesus words in Mark 10, she writes:
He knew that these children would listen to His counsel and accept Him as their Redeemer, while those who were worldly-wise and hardhearted would be less likely to follow Him and find a place in the kingdom of God. These little ones, by coming to Christ and receiving His advice and benediction, had His image and His gracious words stamped upon their plastic minds, never to be effaced. We should learn a lesson from this act of Christ, that the hearts of the young are most susceptible to the teachings of Christianity, easy to influence toward piety and virtue, and strong to retain the impressions received. (page 275)
I can only agree wholeheartedly. Without the cynicism, head knowledge and rational thought that accompanies growing up, I believe our littlest disciples truly experience God in a way that we can only imagine. Possum has not yet been hardened by the world, he does not have the understanding to question on a logical or scientific or rational basis. He purely believes in a God who loves him and experiences first hand the expression of that love. Sure, he’s got a lot to learn. (Just the other day he was asked who made the stars – his answer? Nanny Thel. Now as much as that pleased Nanny Thel, we have a long way to go in the spiritual education of our beautiful son!) However the fact remains that God is touching his heart now. God doesn’t wait until our children reach 5 or 10 or 15 – he speaks to them and through them from the moment they are born – and we as parents and caregivers can facilitate that process and partner with God in shaping and moulding his most wonderful works of art.
As a parent I am delighted by Possum's mental development and love to hear his growing vocabulary. I am thrilled at his physical development and get a kick out of watching him ride a bike without training wheels. I am excited by his emotional development and am happy when he shows concern for a crying friend. But my greatest joy comes from watching him develop a relationship with God. The gentle sounds of him singing ‘Jesus Loves Me’ to himself before going to sleep; when he points out the ‘bootiful’ sunset that Jesus has made; when he speaks words of life to a dead beetle – these are the moments I treasure most. Become like a child? I’m trying, Lord. For the kingdom of God belongs to people such as this.
But there is a place for child-likeness. There is a place for a child’s heart. Jesus says so. In a world that didn’t value the young, Jesus placed great worth upon these little ones. We are familiar with the image of him blessing the children, but there’s more to it than that. Look closely at the words Jesus spoke:
“Some people brought their little children to Jesus so he could touch them, but his followers told them to stop. When Jesus saw this, he was upset and said to them, "Let the little children come to me. Don't stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to people who are like these children. I tell you the truth, you must accept the kingdom of God as if you were a little child, or you will never enter it." Then Jesus took the children in his arms, put his hands on them, and blessed them. (Mark 10:13-16; NCV, emphasis mine)
With a toddler of my own, I’m beginning to get a sense of what he was talking about. There is no doubt in my mind that God has a special place in his heart for children. Otherwise, why would that beautiful, whimsical and sheer delightful world of the child have been part of his plan? Surely we could have been born knowing what we needed to know, self-reliant and independent from the get go. There is something important about the process of growing up, something of which we are never supposed to forget. As I watch the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual development of my son, I can’t help but learn a lot about myself, my faith and my God in the process.
Two-year-old Possum loves the Sabbath School lesson. He had heard the same story every night for a month but was still excited by it, his little mind comprehending the basics of the account. Peter and John came across a lame man, and in the name of Jesus were able to heal him. Every night Possum questioned why the man couldn’t walk and every night I explained that his legs were ‘broken’ but that through the power of Jesus he was healed and could walk again. There were hoorays and claps from my little one when the man stood up upon his healing. By the end of the month he knew the story so well he could complete the sentences and help tell the narrative.
A few weeks later we were out at the clothesline hanging out the never-ending mountain of washing that our household seems to generate. There was a large beetle under the clothesline that was distinctly…well…dead. All six feet were in the air and the beetle lay motionless on its back. Possum, curious, went to investigate.
“Mummy, why beetle not moving?” he asked me, earnest eyes looking for the explanation that would satisfy his thirst for knowledge.
“Because the beetle is dead, darling,” I replied. He had a basic knowledge of death having just been to the funeral of a much-loved church member.
“Like Rosie died?” he asked, just checking his understanding.
“That’s right, just like Rosie,” I responded, pegging another item on the line. Little Possum pondered for a moment and crouched down on his haunches over the beetle, like only a toddler can. With the confident voice of authority he spoke.
“In the name of Jesus, stand up and walk.” I stifled my giggles of delight at his faith and knelt over the beetle with him, explaining that although Jesus could heal the beetle, we would probably have to wait until he came back again and took us all back to live with him for that to happen. But the magnitude of Possum's statement struck me. He had greater faith than I. And upon reflection, I may not have been surprised to see the beetle roll over and start walking. What I had processed and rationalised through my adult mind as an impossibility, Possum viewed as an opportunity for God to heal. The story is cute, but more importantly it is a profound example of what it means to have faith like a child.
I have also learned the power of forgiveness from Possum. We had a particularly trying Tuesday where he was being what can only be described as two (anyone with a toddler will understand). He had been reprimanded severely for running away from me at playgroup.
Later that night at bedtime prayers I took the opportunity to have our first real discussion about sin and how we can ask Jesus to forgive us. A simplistic explanation, yes, but it was enough for a two-year-old to grasp. When I asked Possum what he had done that was wrong he said very sincerely, “My runned ‘way from Mummy.” I told him how he could pray and ask Jesus to forgive him and everything would be OK again. As he bowed his head, tears filled my eyes as the little voice next to me said, “Dear Jesus, please ‘give me for running ‘way from Mummy. Amen.” Opening my eyes I looked upon his face to see it glowing. I can honestly say he felt the burden of sin lifted from his tiny shoulders. He felt and knew the power of forgiveness. I don’t know if I can ever recall experiencing that myself in such a tangible way, but through my little boy I was privileged to bear witness to another one of heaven’s miracles.
In The Adventist Home, Ellen G White talks about how powerful the presence of God can be in our little ones’ lives. Commenting on Jesus words in Mark 10, she writes:
He knew that these children would listen to His counsel and accept Him as their Redeemer, while those who were worldly-wise and hardhearted would be less likely to follow Him and find a place in the kingdom of God. These little ones, by coming to Christ and receiving His advice and benediction, had His image and His gracious words stamped upon their plastic minds, never to be effaced. We should learn a lesson from this act of Christ, that the hearts of the young are most susceptible to the teachings of Christianity, easy to influence toward piety and virtue, and strong to retain the impressions received. (page 275)
I can only agree wholeheartedly. Without the cynicism, head knowledge and rational thought that accompanies growing up, I believe our littlest disciples truly experience God in a way that we can only imagine. Possum has not yet been hardened by the world, he does not have the understanding to question on a logical or scientific or rational basis. He purely believes in a God who loves him and experiences first hand the expression of that love. Sure, he’s got a lot to learn. (Just the other day he was asked who made the stars – his answer? Nanny Thel. Now as much as that pleased Nanny Thel, we have a long way to go in the spiritual education of our beautiful son!) However the fact remains that God is touching his heart now. God doesn’t wait until our children reach 5 or 10 or 15 – he speaks to them and through them from the moment they are born – and we as parents and caregivers can facilitate that process and partner with God in shaping and moulding his most wonderful works of art.
As a parent I am delighted by Possum's mental development and love to hear his growing vocabulary. I am thrilled at his physical development and get a kick out of watching him ride a bike without training wheels. I am excited by his emotional development and am happy when he shows concern for a crying friend. But my greatest joy comes from watching him develop a relationship with God. The gentle sounds of him singing ‘Jesus Loves Me’ to himself before going to sleep; when he points out the ‘bootiful’ sunset that Jesus has made; when he speaks words of life to a dead beetle – these are the moments I treasure most. Become like a child? I’m trying, Lord. For the kingdom of God belongs to people such as this.
The Waiting Game
According to the ticker on my computer, I have exactly 23 days to go before I reach full term with this pregnancy. In reality, it's probably going to be half that. So I've reached that phase where I'm just, well, waiting!
The twins are growing beautifully and last Wednesday were approximately 5lb 12oz according to the ultrasound. By now they have probably hit the 6lb mark. Not bad for two! But the downside is they are running out of room...and there's only so far I can stretch. Apparently I'm stretchier than I realised, although the reverse stretchiness that is required after the birth...well, let's just say I'm not counting my breath on ever wearing a bikini again!!! Which, by the way, I have no problems with whatsoever. Stretch marks and extra skin are the least of my concerns and pale into such insignificance compared with the joy I've had at carrying my boys.
But I do wonder when they are going to arrive. Today is Labour Day in Queensland - so I don't know if that's a good thing or not!! I could give a new definition to the term, perhaps its true meaning afterall. None of this marching on parliament for better working conditions - check out your local maternity hospital instead.
Sleep is a challenging prospect with two babies wriggling around. Hiccups from the boys now feel like small earthquakes in my nether regions, which is not exactly what I would call comfortable. And if either of them decide to stretch lengthways, I'm in real strife! There's just no more room and they run into ribs and pelvis...and a range of internal organs that I'm quite attached to and still need.
I'm not ready for them to come just yet though -although I'm sure I would cope if they did. I'm happy for them to stay put for another week. And I hope it doesn't sound like I'm complaining because I'm honestly not - just making a few observations about what being 36+ weeks pregnant with twins is like!
What a privilege it is, however, to actively partner the Creator in creating new life. I am so blessed.
The twins are growing beautifully and last Wednesday were approximately 5lb 12oz according to the ultrasound. By now they have probably hit the 6lb mark. Not bad for two! But the downside is they are running out of room...and there's only so far I can stretch. Apparently I'm stretchier than I realised, although the reverse stretchiness that is required after the birth...well, let's just say I'm not counting my breath on ever wearing a bikini again!!! Which, by the way, I have no problems with whatsoever. Stretch marks and extra skin are the least of my concerns and pale into such insignificance compared with the joy I've had at carrying my boys.
But I do wonder when they are going to arrive. Today is Labour Day in Queensland - so I don't know if that's a good thing or not!! I could give a new definition to the term, perhaps its true meaning afterall. None of this marching on parliament for better working conditions - check out your local maternity hospital instead.
Sleep is a challenging prospect with two babies wriggling around. Hiccups from the boys now feel like small earthquakes in my nether regions, which is not exactly what I would call comfortable. And if either of them decide to stretch lengthways, I'm in real strife! There's just no more room and they run into ribs and pelvis...and a range of internal organs that I'm quite attached to and still need.
I'm not ready for them to come just yet though -although I'm sure I would cope if they did. I'm happy for them to stay put for another week. And I hope it doesn't sound like I'm complaining because I'm honestly not - just making a few observations about what being 36+ weeks pregnant with twins is like!
What a privilege it is, however, to actively partner the Creator in creating new life. I am so blessed.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Chuckling and Church?
Imagine for a moment that we are playing a word game, a game of association. I say a word and you have to say the first thing that comes to mind. Ready?
Sharp. What did you think of? Knife, tongue, needle – or did you go straight to the opposite, blunt?
Ready for the next one…
Sport. Ball, bat, football, basketball…what was your association?
OK, here comes the clincher.
Church. What do you associate with the word ‘church’? Worship, prayer, singing, silence, boredom, God…there would be as many answers as there are people. But I’m wondering if you ever thought of the word ‘laughter’? Seriously.
I’ve been to many church services in my life and do you know the ones I remember the most? The ones where I had an emotional response. Now I’m not suggesting that church should be solely about how it makes me feel. That would be shallow and hollow at best, self-seeking and selfish at worst. But the fact remains that the moments of worship that stand out in my memory all have an emotional label attached. Those times when I cried, those times when I was angered or challenged – I remember them well. I also remember when I laughed.
But is it OK to laugh in church? Is it appropriate to have a quiet chuckle or a belly laugh during worship? Like a child who asks his parents if he can go to a party, the answer is the same – it depends. For the party, it depends on who is going, where it is, whether there will be adults in attendance. For laughter in church it depends on what sort of laughter, the motive behind it and the impact it has on the message being preached.
Just like word association can often result in opposites (say the word ‘black’ and most people will think ‘white’), let’s look at the times when it definitely wouldn’t be OK or appropriate to laugh in church.
Firstly, it’s not OK if it’s at someone else’s expense. Now I’m not talking about those times when someone makes a faux par that is just too funny not to giggle at. I’m talking about the hurtful, degrading kind of laughter that all of us are capable of, the teasing, taunting laughter that has the sole intention of bringing pain to the subject. That sort of laughter is definitely not OK in church – but then again, it’s not OK anywhere else either. We are supposed to build each other up, not tear each other down.
Another sort of laughter that would be inappropriate would be anything that is the result of an off-colour joke. We’ve all heard them, most of us have told them. Church is not the place. Perhaps that would be a good rule of thumb for us all – if we wouldn’t say it in the foyer to someone at church, then we shouldn’t say it at the footy ground or on the bus either.
So we’ve established laughter at someone else’s expense and laughter that is associated with anything that is not pure or good or lovely are not OK. But what about the rest of the spectrum of things that make us chuckle? What about those jokes that you could happily share with your grandmother? You know the ones – Which Bible character had no parents? Joshua, son of Nun. (OK, my joke repertoire is sadly lacking, but you get the point…) How do they stack up in church? Well, at this point the content is not in question – there’s nothing offensive or off-colour, nothing that pokes fun at someone else. But then we come to the impact it has. If you whispered this to your pew-mate at the peak of the pastor’s serious plea for people to make a commitment to Christ, well, let’s just say your timing is off. It wouldn’t be OK. It has the potential to detract from the worship experience of you, your mate and those around you. And all of us can attest to how hard it is to contain a fit of the giggles. The more they need to be contained, the funnier the situation seems until someone either makes an inappropriate snorting noise or spontaneously combusts. It’s not exactly conducive to worship. The joke may, however, be perfectly appropriate to share in the carpark or at the pot-luck lunch…just not during grace.
So that leaves us with a thorny question. Is any laughter OK in church? My answer would be yes. If we are created in the image of God, then there can be no argument that God has a sense of humour (just take a look at the platypus if you don’t believe me). So working on the premise that laughter and humour are not some evil force that need to be eradicated from our lives, how do we use this precious gift to bring glory to God?
Psalm 126 sheds some light on the subject. The Israelites had been held enslaved in Zion for many years. The Lord brought them out of captivity. Whilst they were in shock and disbelief at their good fortune, verse 2 tells us how they responded:
“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.” (NIV)
Were they worshipping? You bet! This was the sort of laughter that emerged from the well-spring of gratitude and joy from within their now free hearts. This was true worship.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I find something so overwhelming, so amazing, so unfathomable, my first response is to laugh. Not because I’m making fun of it or being silly, but because my finite mind is trying to comprehend something incomprehensible. My laughter is an expression of my awe. In the right place at the right time, that can be worship.
And what about those times when things are just plain funny? We had a Kids Church program recently that was a highlight for the entire congregation. One of the special features of Kids Church is that the adults come down the front for the adult’s story. The children are laughing even before we begin, just at the sight of their parents and grandparents sitting cross-legged on the floor, ready to listen to a story with a spiritual message. The paradox of the circumstance is not lost on them – or the adults for that matter.
The adults helped re-enact the story of the Unforgiving Servant, which can be found in Matthew 18. This particular story was chosen as it tied in beautifully with the theme of the day, forgiveness. Entering into the spirit of things, the adults gave a convincing performance that quite frankly, had everyone in stitches. It didn’t detract from the message. It didn’t take away from the moral of the story. In fact I would argue that it enhanced the message and emblazoned the moral on the hearts and minds of both adults and children that day. They won’t forget that particular parable in a hurry. It was worship – just a different sort of worship.
Those who would disagree with my perspective would probably use one word in their argument against laughter – reverence. But when did reverence come to only be associated with silence? According to the dictionary, reverence is “a feeling or attitude of deep respect tinged with awe” 1. Reverence is not the ability to sit through a sermon without making a squeak. It is not necessarily speaking only in hushed tones. Reverence, is in fact less of an action and more of an attitude. To me, that means it is possible for me to whisper and be irreverent, or enjoy a good belly laugh and be totally reverent to my God. It’s all a matter of heart posture.
So next time you feel the urge to laugh in church, run through a checklist and make sure it’s reverent kind of laughter, the kind that God would join in with rather than frown at. And if it’s still appropriate, go ahead and enjoy the wonderful and joyous experience of being a child of God. Because in heaven, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a lot of Godly laughter. Why don’t we get some practice here on earth? - It might just make today a day to remember.
1. Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved April 25, 2008, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/reverence
Sharp. What did you think of? Knife, tongue, needle – or did you go straight to the opposite, blunt?
Ready for the next one…
Sport. Ball, bat, football, basketball…what was your association?
OK, here comes the clincher.
Church. What do you associate with the word ‘church’? Worship, prayer, singing, silence, boredom, God…there would be as many answers as there are people. But I’m wondering if you ever thought of the word ‘laughter’? Seriously.
I’ve been to many church services in my life and do you know the ones I remember the most? The ones where I had an emotional response. Now I’m not suggesting that church should be solely about how it makes me feel. That would be shallow and hollow at best, self-seeking and selfish at worst. But the fact remains that the moments of worship that stand out in my memory all have an emotional label attached. Those times when I cried, those times when I was angered or challenged – I remember them well. I also remember when I laughed.
But is it OK to laugh in church? Is it appropriate to have a quiet chuckle or a belly laugh during worship? Like a child who asks his parents if he can go to a party, the answer is the same – it depends. For the party, it depends on who is going, where it is, whether there will be adults in attendance. For laughter in church it depends on what sort of laughter, the motive behind it and the impact it has on the message being preached.
Just like word association can often result in opposites (say the word ‘black’ and most people will think ‘white’), let’s look at the times when it definitely wouldn’t be OK or appropriate to laugh in church.
Firstly, it’s not OK if it’s at someone else’s expense. Now I’m not talking about those times when someone makes a faux par that is just too funny not to giggle at. I’m talking about the hurtful, degrading kind of laughter that all of us are capable of, the teasing, taunting laughter that has the sole intention of bringing pain to the subject. That sort of laughter is definitely not OK in church – but then again, it’s not OK anywhere else either. We are supposed to build each other up, not tear each other down.
Another sort of laughter that would be inappropriate would be anything that is the result of an off-colour joke. We’ve all heard them, most of us have told them. Church is not the place. Perhaps that would be a good rule of thumb for us all – if we wouldn’t say it in the foyer to someone at church, then we shouldn’t say it at the footy ground or on the bus either.
So we’ve established laughter at someone else’s expense and laughter that is associated with anything that is not pure or good or lovely are not OK. But what about the rest of the spectrum of things that make us chuckle? What about those jokes that you could happily share with your grandmother? You know the ones – Which Bible character had no parents? Joshua, son of Nun. (OK, my joke repertoire is sadly lacking, but you get the point…) How do they stack up in church? Well, at this point the content is not in question – there’s nothing offensive or off-colour, nothing that pokes fun at someone else. But then we come to the impact it has. If you whispered this to your pew-mate at the peak of the pastor’s serious plea for people to make a commitment to Christ, well, let’s just say your timing is off. It wouldn’t be OK. It has the potential to detract from the worship experience of you, your mate and those around you. And all of us can attest to how hard it is to contain a fit of the giggles. The more they need to be contained, the funnier the situation seems until someone either makes an inappropriate snorting noise or spontaneously combusts. It’s not exactly conducive to worship. The joke may, however, be perfectly appropriate to share in the carpark or at the pot-luck lunch…just not during grace.
So that leaves us with a thorny question. Is any laughter OK in church? My answer would be yes. If we are created in the image of God, then there can be no argument that God has a sense of humour (just take a look at the platypus if you don’t believe me). So working on the premise that laughter and humour are not some evil force that need to be eradicated from our lives, how do we use this precious gift to bring glory to God?
Psalm 126 sheds some light on the subject. The Israelites had been held enslaved in Zion for many years. The Lord brought them out of captivity. Whilst they were in shock and disbelief at their good fortune, verse 2 tells us how they responded:
“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.” (NIV)
Were they worshipping? You bet! This was the sort of laughter that emerged from the well-spring of gratitude and joy from within their now free hearts. This was true worship.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I find something so overwhelming, so amazing, so unfathomable, my first response is to laugh. Not because I’m making fun of it or being silly, but because my finite mind is trying to comprehend something incomprehensible. My laughter is an expression of my awe. In the right place at the right time, that can be worship.
And what about those times when things are just plain funny? We had a Kids Church program recently that was a highlight for the entire congregation. One of the special features of Kids Church is that the adults come down the front for the adult’s story. The children are laughing even before we begin, just at the sight of their parents and grandparents sitting cross-legged on the floor, ready to listen to a story with a spiritual message. The paradox of the circumstance is not lost on them – or the adults for that matter.
The adults helped re-enact the story of the Unforgiving Servant, which can be found in Matthew 18. This particular story was chosen as it tied in beautifully with the theme of the day, forgiveness. Entering into the spirit of things, the adults gave a convincing performance that quite frankly, had everyone in stitches. It didn’t detract from the message. It didn’t take away from the moral of the story. In fact I would argue that it enhanced the message and emblazoned the moral on the hearts and minds of both adults and children that day. They won’t forget that particular parable in a hurry. It was worship – just a different sort of worship.
Those who would disagree with my perspective would probably use one word in their argument against laughter – reverence. But when did reverence come to only be associated with silence? According to the dictionary, reverence is “a feeling or attitude of deep respect tinged with awe” 1. Reverence is not the ability to sit through a sermon without making a squeak. It is not necessarily speaking only in hushed tones. Reverence, is in fact less of an action and more of an attitude. To me, that means it is possible for me to whisper and be irreverent, or enjoy a good belly laugh and be totally reverent to my God. It’s all a matter of heart posture.
So next time you feel the urge to laugh in church, run through a checklist and make sure it’s reverent kind of laughter, the kind that God would join in with rather than frown at. And if it’s still appropriate, go ahead and enjoy the wonderful and joyous experience of being a child of God. Because in heaven, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a lot of Godly laughter. Why don’t we get some practice here on earth? - It might just make today a day to remember.
1. Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved April 25, 2008, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/reverence
Monday, April 28, 2008
What an Exciting Time...
Yesterday was a great day. I ended up getting a contract in the mail from the Queensland Writer's Centre for my article, The Unutterable Phrase which will appear in their September edition. I also got an acceptance email from Copeland Publishing for my article, Earning My Stripes. They want to keep it on file to be used in a future edition of their Brisbane's Child magazine, which also has a Sydney, Melbourne and Perth version - I think they are pretty much the same just with local advertising. I guess in reality this one may never be published, but at least they want to hang on to it for a while.
I also was approached to write for CQ (Collegiate Quarterly) which is the Sabbath School lesson produced by the Adventist church for young adults. I jumped at the chance - it's a nice change to write to someone else's specs rather than just where my whim and fancy takes me. I decided to get stuck into it last night, as I'm very aware each evening could be my last before the twins arrive, and became quite inspired by it all. The end result was really pleasing. That one will be published in the fourth quarter, 2009 (Oct-Dec).
It appears that I may have found my calling. This whole process is sitting so well with me - probably because it is me. Hopefully the motivation will continue! It's just so much fun! And even my rejection letters aren't actually bothering me. I guess I've had a balance of yesses and nos, so that helps.
And I've also decided that there's a good reason why I like Christian author, Max Lucado's books. I love the way he writes and I can pick his work just about anywhere. I've decided it's because I actually write in a similar way. Now I'm not suggesting I have his ability, talent or anything else for that matter - it just suddenly hit me why his writing resonates with me so much. Who knows, maybe one day our names will appear in the same sentence!!! It doesn't hurt to dream does it??
I also was approached to write for CQ (Collegiate Quarterly) which is the Sabbath School lesson produced by the Adventist church for young adults. I jumped at the chance - it's a nice change to write to someone else's specs rather than just where my whim and fancy takes me. I decided to get stuck into it last night, as I'm very aware each evening could be my last before the twins arrive, and became quite inspired by it all. The end result was really pleasing. That one will be published in the fourth quarter, 2009 (Oct-Dec).
It appears that I may have found my calling. This whole process is sitting so well with me - probably because it is me. Hopefully the motivation will continue! It's just so much fun! And even my rejection letters aren't actually bothering me. I guess I've had a balance of yesses and nos, so that helps.
And I've also decided that there's a good reason why I like Christian author, Max Lucado's books. I love the way he writes and I can pick his work just about anywhere. I've decided it's because I actually write in a similar way. Now I'm not suggesting I have his ability, talent or anything else for that matter - it just suddenly hit me why his writing resonates with me so much. Who knows, maybe one day our names will appear in the same sentence!!! It doesn't hurt to dream does it??
Read the Signs, Baby
There has been a lot of media coverage in recent times about the benefits of using baby sign language. The information presented often focuses on the educational and psychological benefits of signing giving the impression that it might just help little Johnny on his way to a Rhodes Scholarship.
I chose to use baby sign with my son, but not for such high and mighty reasons. In reality, my decision about whether to sign was less about IQ and more about intuition. I just felt there was so much going on in that little head of his that I couldn’t access. If this gave me a window into his mind and soul then I wanted to know about it.
When I informed my extended family that I was teaching my seven-month-old to sign, there were raised eyebrows and rolled eyes all around. It was put down to another one of my pseudo-intellectual fads – a clear product of reading too much apparently.
My experiment also had a rather selfish secondary motivation. I had read that children who sign have less of a tendency for tantrums. That was it – my decision was made. If there was anything, anything at all that could prevent the inevitable toddler tantrums I would give it a go.
In the beginning I chose two or three signs that were common elements to our day – DRINK, EAT, MILK. For three months I consistently signed and said these words to him at the appropriate time. He didn’t sign back, but it had become part of my daily routine and it wasn’t adding any extra stress to my day, so I continued.
One day when hewas ten months old, he looked out the window and spotted a bird in the bird bath. He turned to me with wide eyes and pointed. I saw what had grabbed his attention and signed BIRD. He looked at me with excitement and signed BIRD back. Our wonderful journey of signing had begun.
Over the next few months he learned quickly – but not the signs I thought he would or should know. It was far more exciting to sign DOG, PLANE and CAT than SLEEP, EAT or DRINK. He was more interested in describing his environment, what he was seeing, than the mundane experiences of daily life. He wanted to share his joy as he discovered an amazing world for himself.
As his signing vocabulary took off he learned the power of being able to tell me what he wanted. Although his spoken vocabulary was limited to ‘mum mum mum’ and ‘dad dad dad’, through his hands he could tell me when he wanted more, when he’d finished and eventually, when he was thirsty or hungry.
By the time he was fifteen months old he had a signing vocabulary of approximately forty words. Whilst it meant leaving a long list of interpretations and symbols for the babysitter, it was an absolute God-send for me. I was able to communicate with my child, to get inside his head, to understand him, before he was effectively using the English language.
So what are some of the practical benefits to signing? Here are four reasons why I would recommend signing to any parent:
1. It gave me an insight into my child’s world.
Although I introduced signs I thought would be useful, in reality my son directed the learning. Once he worked out that he could talk with his hands, he would bring things to my attention and watch closely until I could give him the appropriate sign. Then the things that interested him became a source of mutual delight. We’d spot a plane in the sky and his little hand would zoom across the sky. He purely wanted to share his excitement. I got to see the world through my child’s eyes.
2. It encouraged my child to look at me.
This might sound like something inane, but I am convinced it set him up for some really good communication skills. To this day, as an almost three-year-old, he looks at me when I’m talking to him. All those months of signing encouraged him to develop the habit of listening with his eyes as well as his ears.
3. My child experienced less frustration
Now it’s hard to say for sure how much signing impacted his frustration levels, but I honestly believe it helped. It’s true that he is a calm and placid child by nature. However, rather than point helplessly at the cupboard and scream to be heard, he realised very quickly that he could ask quite specifically for something. Sure, there were still tears when mummy said no, but there were very few tears of frustration. The power of being understood was powerful in his life, even when he entered those toddler years.
4. It encouraged me to interact closely with my child.
It’s so easy as a parent to get distracted. There’s always dinner to cook, clothes to wash, appointments to keep, let alone work to accomplish. Signing forced me to stop and focus on him, eye-to-eye, countless times across the day. I showed him through my undivided attention that I was listening – really listening – to what mattered to him. That was great for our parent-child relationship.
So is signing for everyone? Possibly not. Although it’s not difficult it is one more thing to think about during the day and only reaps rewards if you are consistent. It requires reinforcement time and time again and there is effort involved. All I can say is that in my experience it was well worth it. So much so, that there is no doubt in my mind I’ll be using baby sign again soon. You see, we are expecting identical twin boys any day now and in six or seven months time the signing will begin. Will they benefit in the same way as our first child? I hope so. But even if the only benefit is the development of a relationship based on mutual listening, even if their signing is limited to showing me the dog or bird outside, it will still have been worthwhile.
As for the future impact on my boys’ intelligence or education – to be honest, I’m not that fussed. Any positive impact will be a bonus. In the meantime I’ve been able to get inside their heads and see a little of what makes them tick. For me, that’s time well spent.
I chose to use baby sign with my son, but not for such high and mighty reasons. In reality, my decision about whether to sign was less about IQ and more about intuition. I just felt there was so much going on in that little head of his that I couldn’t access. If this gave me a window into his mind and soul then I wanted to know about it.
When I informed my extended family that I was teaching my seven-month-old to sign, there were raised eyebrows and rolled eyes all around. It was put down to another one of my pseudo-intellectual fads – a clear product of reading too much apparently.
My experiment also had a rather selfish secondary motivation. I had read that children who sign have less of a tendency for tantrums. That was it – my decision was made. If there was anything, anything at all that could prevent the inevitable toddler tantrums I would give it a go.
In the beginning I chose two or three signs that were common elements to our day – DRINK, EAT, MILK. For three months I consistently signed and said these words to him at the appropriate time. He didn’t sign back, but it had become part of my daily routine and it wasn’t adding any extra stress to my day, so I continued.
One day when hewas ten months old, he looked out the window and spotted a bird in the bird bath. He turned to me with wide eyes and pointed. I saw what had grabbed his attention and signed BIRD. He looked at me with excitement and signed BIRD back. Our wonderful journey of signing had begun.
Over the next few months he learned quickly – but not the signs I thought he would or should know. It was far more exciting to sign DOG, PLANE and CAT than SLEEP, EAT or DRINK. He was more interested in describing his environment, what he was seeing, than the mundane experiences of daily life. He wanted to share his joy as he discovered an amazing world for himself.
As his signing vocabulary took off he learned the power of being able to tell me what he wanted. Although his spoken vocabulary was limited to ‘mum mum mum’ and ‘dad dad dad’, through his hands he could tell me when he wanted more, when he’d finished and eventually, when he was thirsty or hungry.
By the time he was fifteen months old he had a signing vocabulary of approximately forty words. Whilst it meant leaving a long list of interpretations and symbols for the babysitter, it was an absolute God-send for me. I was able to communicate with my child, to get inside his head, to understand him, before he was effectively using the English language.
So what are some of the practical benefits to signing? Here are four reasons why I would recommend signing to any parent:
1. It gave me an insight into my child’s world.
Although I introduced signs I thought would be useful, in reality my son directed the learning. Once he worked out that he could talk with his hands, he would bring things to my attention and watch closely until I could give him the appropriate sign. Then the things that interested him became a source of mutual delight. We’d spot a plane in the sky and his little hand would zoom across the sky. He purely wanted to share his excitement. I got to see the world through my child’s eyes.
2. It encouraged my child to look at me.
This might sound like something inane, but I am convinced it set him up for some really good communication skills. To this day, as an almost three-year-old, he looks at me when I’m talking to him. All those months of signing encouraged him to develop the habit of listening with his eyes as well as his ears.
3. My child experienced less frustration
Now it’s hard to say for sure how much signing impacted his frustration levels, but I honestly believe it helped. It’s true that he is a calm and placid child by nature. However, rather than point helplessly at the cupboard and scream to be heard, he realised very quickly that he could ask quite specifically for something. Sure, there were still tears when mummy said no, but there were very few tears of frustration. The power of being understood was powerful in his life, even when he entered those toddler years.
4. It encouraged me to interact closely with my child.
It’s so easy as a parent to get distracted. There’s always dinner to cook, clothes to wash, appointments to keep, let alone work to accomplish. Signing forced me to stop and focus on him, eye-to-eye, countless times across the day. I showed him through my undivided attention that I was listening – really listening – to what mattered to him. That was great for our parent-child relationship.
So is signing for everyone? Possibly not. Although it’s not difficult it is one more thing to think about during the day and only reaps rewards if you are consistent. It requires reinforcement time and time again and there is effort involved. All I can say is that in my experience it was well worth it. So much so, that there is no doubt in my mind I’ll be using baby sign again soon. You see, we are expecting identical twin boys any day now and in six or seven months time the signing will begin. Will they benefit in the same way as our first child? I hope so. But even if the only benefit is the development of a relationship based on mutual listening, even if their signing is limited to showing me the dog or bird outside, it will still have been worthwhile.
As for the future impact on my boys’ intelligence or education – to be honest, I’m not that fussed. Any positive impact will be a bonus. In the meantime I’ve been able to get inside their heads and see a little of what makes them tick. For me, that’s time well spent.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Writing Bug Has Bitten Me...and Hard!
Well it's been an interesting week at my house. I am now over 35 weeks pregnant and am half expecting my boys to arrive at any given moment in time. Each night I go to bed and wonder, "Is tonight the night?" For some reason I can only imagine myself in labour at night...I may fall apart at the seams if it happens in daylight!!
But the insomnia that goes with being this heavily pregnant ("heavily" is actually a really good adjective for the situation I might add) - and that is that I am having time to write.
I have started a novel - yes, another one - but this one is going to be different; not because I'm a better writer (which I think I am compared to 5 years ago), or because it's more interesting (once again, I think it is!), but purely because this time I am going to finish it! It's hard to believe, I know. But armed with me NEO I actually think it's possible.
In my previous attempts at novel writing I have jumped ship when the waves hit. If I felt the storyline was slowing down or my characters were too one-dimensional, I would throw my hands up in despair and abandon the keyboard forever. This time around, I have experienced both of those sensations, yet I'm proud to say I have kept on writing. I have - honest! Because I can't critique what I'm doing on the NEO, I have written through the writer's block barrier (which I personally find more painful that the so-called pain barrier).
So, I am now six chapters into my little creative endeavour and am over 22,000 words on my way to the end. Where the end will be, I'm not exactly sure. But gee I'm having fun getting there!
"What is this novel about?" you may ask. Well, I was inspired to write about something that doesn't require a lot of research, something I know fairly well...so I am writing about the experiences of 5 women who become first-time mums. Of course they have wildly varying personalities and backgrounds, but they are thrown together by a maternal health nurse who links them to form a playgroup. Through their experiences you will get to see varying perspectives on issues such as circumcision, breastfeeding versus bottle, going back to work versus staying at home - none of which I am actually making a statement on. I am simply exploring the perspectives and attempting to show how good mothering means different things to different people. An one of the underlying themes if the devastating impact of post-natal depression...
So far, I like my characters a lot, and they are starting to become real. I don't like chapter 5 at all, but I will wait until I reach THE END to do anything about it. There may be something worth saving. In the meantime I'm writing a chapter a day (which involves me writing from each of the five character's perspectives around a similar theme or timeframe - or dialogue as the case may be). I'm finding the dialogue the hardest part - it's tricky getting the voice of each character right, but I think I'm getting there. I am hoping my boys will wait until I get finished or close to finished before they arrive. I'm writing on average 5,500 words a day so will have to wait and see how far I get!
But the insomnia that goes with being this heavily pregnant ("heavily" is actually a really good adjective for the situation I might add) - and that is that I am having time to write.
I have started a novel - yes, another one - but this one is going to be different; not because I'm a better writer (which I think I am compared to 5 years ago), or because it's more interesting (once again, I think it is!), but purely because this time I am going to finish it! It's hard to believe, I know. But armed with me NEO I actually think it's possible.
In my previous attempts at novel writing I have jumped ship when the waves hit. If I felt the storyline was slowing down or my characters were too one-dimensional, I would throw my hands up in despair and abandon the keyboard forever. This time around, I have experienced both of those sensations, yet I'm proud to say I have kept on writing. I have - honest! Because I can't critique what I'm doing on the NEO, I have written through the writer's block barrier (which I personally find more painful that the so-called pain barrier).
So, I am now six chapters into my little creative endeavour and am over 22,000 words on my way to the end. Where the end will be, I'm not exactly sure. But gee I'm having fun getting there!
"What is this novel about?" you may ask. Well, I was inspired to write about something that doesn't require a lot of research, something I know fairly well...so I am writing about the experiences of 5 women who become first-time mums. Of course they have wildly varying personalities and backgrounds, but they are thrown together by a maternal health nurse who links them to form a playgroup. Through their experiences you will get to see varying perspectives on issues such as circumcision, breastfeeding versus bottle, going back to work versus staying at home - none of which I am actually making a statement on. I am simply exploring the perspectives and attempting to show how good mothering means different things to different people. An one of the underlying themes if the devastating impact of post-natal depression...
So far, I like my characters a lot, and they are starting to become real. I don't like chapter 5 at all, but I will wait until I reach THE END to do anything about it. There may be something worth saving. In the meantime I'm writing a chapter a day (which involves me writing from each of the five character's perspectives around a similar theme or timeframe - or dialogue as the case may be). I'm finding the dialogue the hardest part - it's tricky getting the voice of each character right, but I think I'm getting there. I am hoping my boys will wait until I get finished or close to finished before they arrive. I'm writing on average 5,500 words a day so will have to wait and see how far I get!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
