Flashback Friday-VBS Style

Did your family attend church when you were growing up? What are your earliest memories of church? Did you attend VBS (Vacation Bible School) when you were young? Sunday School? Other church activities? Was faith a Sunday-only thing or did it impact your life and the things you did? If faith and church were not a part of your growing-up years, when and how did you begin and what drew you to God?

Besides coming home from the hospital, the first place my parents took me was to church. My very earliest memories include the church grounds, classrooms, and the family of people I grew up amongst there.

I have a couple of photos to share, but they are of "Old Fashioned Days," so I'll have to wait to share those until they fit the topic. And boy-howdy, they are doozies.

VBS was an annual event for me, and I can still recall songs and Bible verses I learned at VBS. One song included a stop sign held up by the worship leader at just the moment we were supposed to sing "STOP! and let me tell you, what the Lord has done for meeeee." True to kid form, most of us yelled it out. You can see that any unsuspecting average Joe would definitely STOP in his tracks and turn from his wicked ways when a group of 100 kids yelled this song at him. Very effective evangelization.

Another vivid memory is of color-coded items like pencils which prompted you to remember the essence of Christian theology: black for sin, red for blood redemption, white for purity, etc.

I didn't always want to come in from playing and get cleaned up to go VBS every night, but once I got there, I was fine. I usually excelled at memorization if not singing, and so I won some awards, I'm sure.

But the best time of all was when we went outside for a break, where we would see a couple of long tables set up with various kinds of homemade cookies, paper napkins and cups of Koolaid, for some reason, usually grape flavored. My mom was not a baker, so these cookies were other-worldly treats. If I got really lucky, she would bring no-bakes, and I would get an extra.

Then we would play games outside. One impromptu game included rolling down a small hill on our church's property, log-roll style. The only problem was that I attended a church where all females wore skirts, so you can see that it became problematic to keep your skirt down at your sides and log roll, because with your hands glued to your sides, you just might log roll your face into a rock or brier weed.

So I remember the year my mom allowed me to wear shorts under my skirt.

Big doin's, that was.

I still have a fondness for the simplicity of my VBS experiences: no fancy puppets, videos or curricula. Just simple flannel graph lessons, crafts, including macaroni spray-painted gold glued to orange juice cans and bars of soap turned into sailboats, some foil stars to mark achievement, and a feeling of safety and security in the realm of my little church world, which was my second home.

Thanks for the memories, Lid! Maybe my grandchild will enjoy reading this someday!

The "Thanks, Not Cranks" Challenge

But there's more than one challenge going on for me, as in "how not to hit the 'publish' button when all you have typed is 'The' in your post title."

Yes, I just did that. So if you received a subscription notice about my clever post, "The," now you know the story behind the story.

Give me a break; I've only been at this blogging thing 5 years.

OK, back to the "Thanks, Not Cranks" Challenge.

Yesterday, one of our pastors brought an awesome sermon about gratitude to a group of people feeling very cranky about frigid temps on a Sunday morning.

Not that I complained. (See yesterday's post for a disclosure of a total lie.)

At the end of the talk, he passed out purple rubber bracelets to everyone willing to participate in the challenge, which is:

Try to live 21 days complaint-free. Any time that you express a negative thought, you switch the bracelet to the other wrist. The goal, of course, is to change your way of speaking/thinking.

I was kind of hoping he'd ask us to snap other peoples' bracelets when we caught them complaining, but no. He is a kill-joy.

And there goes my bracelet right now to the other wrist. Dang.

At least Pastor was honest enough to say that after the first time he delivered the message, he didn't get much farther than four blocks away before he had to make the switch because he noticed gas prices were up on the way home from church.

Ouch.

I don't know if I can make it 21 days complaint-free, but I hope it will help me catch my thoughts, take them captive, you know.

Actually, the harder challenge for me might be wearing this thing for 21 days because I don't do jewelry well (even if it's made of rubber). I tend to feel it all the time, which makes me crazy.

[Switching bracelet now.]

When I come in from work or church or some event, after the shoes come off, I head directly to my room and get the jewelry off. I've been this way my whole life. I got used to the wedding ring, but a few years ago when I started going to the gym, I didn't want to bend it, so I took it off. Ever since then, it drives me crazy, too.

[Not switching. That was merely an addendum to the previous jewelry complaint.]

So if you catch me here or on Facebook whining, feel free to "clear your throat" and gently suggest that I stick with the program.

And I will be ever so grateful.

Happy Monday!

PS: Does this bracelet my hand look fat like a gnarly old tree trunk with roots?

Oy. Switch!

The One Where the Old Guy Rams His Bicycle Into My Car

Every day, an elderly man, sorta like this guy here, rides his bicycle around our church's campus.

Round and round in a big circle he goes, like the kid named Adam Farmer in Robert Cormier's I Am the Cheese.

Our "Adam" is kind of a grumpy dude who doesn't really like it when cars enter or leave the lot. Because you know, it's his track. He has been known to throw staff an unkind word and unsympathetic look when we dare to leave for lunch or go home.

Perhaps he thinks we should join him.

Anyway, today, he came staggering into my office saying, "Who has the green Camaro?"

And that's when I crawled under my desk because I thought I had left it in gear and that it had rolled over the man who was barely alive to tell about it.

But no, he said, "I just hit your car."

Come again?

He said, "I don't know what happened. I guess I was just so caught up in the moment that I didn't see it until I was right-up on it."

So it tore the cover on the front, aka "Le Bra," but I think no real damage was done. Except maybe to Adam Farmer, who said, "And I hit my artificial knee."

Uh-oh.

So I had to fill out an accident report because ... a man ran his bike into my car. Which was sitting in plain view in a parking lot with nothing else around it for yards and yards.

How odd.

I should be more upset, but how could I be when I know this is exactly the kind of thing I do as a normal course in life?

Perhaps "Adam" is my soul mate, and fate had him ram my car, like a sucker punch of love.

Nah. I still like Jorge the Jabanero. But he'd better watch his back. The vultures are circling.

It's "Chili Day!" and Other Stuff

So today is the big Chili Cook-off that I've been preparing for all week, or what seems like from the mid 1990s until today.

I've made five different white chilis to find the perfect one, but the recipe I've finally chosen is actually an original concoction! Oh, I'm sure there's one out there similar to mine, but, you're LYING, so STOP SAYING THERE'S ANOTHER ONE OUT THERE LIKE IT.

I'm just a little proud that I made up a recipe, that's all.

I can't reveal the recipe yet (I will tomorrow) because someone might read it and steal it before the judging, and then there go my plans to build an international chili company and finally be able to afford a haircut from Nick Arrojo. Here you see Nick touching someone's hair which should be me.

If I had my own chili brand, I would definitely call it:

Because: chili for Jesus AND Indiana!

Someone asked me, "Hey, it's Spring. Isn't it a little weird to be having a chili cook-off in Spring?" I think it is, but we Hoosiers only recently jumped on the whole "Daylight Savings Time" debacle bandwagon, and since we just had to adjust our clocks AGAIN, some of us are confused and think it's Fall we're heading into. That's the only explanation I can come up with, and I'm pretty much right 100%.

So wish me luck! I'll take lots of photos. And sign lots of autographs. And get my own brand of chili. And get my own Food Network Show. And get a GREAT haircut.

Who knew chili would be my answer to everything??

PS: On the off-chance I don't win, I'll be in bed until the next time to set our clocks back an hour.

The One Where I'm in a MUSICAL (A Video)

Well, here are the slides and the video. We had so much fun making the video. This was for the annual Volunteer Appreciation Event which the staff holds for our workers each year. We have door prizes and generally lots of fun. The Vols like to see us make fools of ourselves, and we always do that successfully and with finesse.

Obviously, this was a 50s theme. We converted the gym to a giant drive-in theater and ran old black and white PSAs on the large screen with reminders about how to remove the speaker from your car, etc.

We actually had several videos that night, which is why there is a mix of Grease and Happy Days.

In the slides, the head shots that you see were plastered on a wall in a row to look like a giant yearbook page. Everyone had a pic.

In the video, I did not jump in front of the camera first thing, as I appeared to. That was editing.

The woman I'm dancing with cheek to cheek is my co-worker who heads up our middle school ministry.

Our Sandy is a children's pastor. Our Danny is our prayer pastor who does a lot of other stuff, too.

Our senior pastor is the tall, balding man with the sunglasses on.

And the senior pic of the guy with the "cigarette" on his ear and looking bored while doing Hand Jive is the one who helped me prank my boss about his dog at the vet.

I realize this is a lot more meaningful to me because I know these people, but I wanted to share it with you. Imagine your staff doing this, and you'll see what a kick it was. Plus, I got to do The Twist. Woot!

Sorry the quality is not the best. The file didn't translate well on line, but it was very clear in person. *Please do not miss my hand jive spotlight. It is the highlight of my entire life.*

Are You a Madrigal, Vince Gill or Squeaky McSqueakerton?

You all know I'm not a "strong" singer.

I can carry a tune, as long as it's within a four-note range, which means "Mary Had a Little Lamb" could totally be "my" song, if it weren't for that one pesky high note. I'd love to be able to sing harmony, but I'd also love to be able to sing melody.

There is, however, one song in which I can occasionally sing harmony in a couple of places: The Eurythmics' Winter Wonderland, which has become a Christmas classic for that reason. (I'll bet you didn't know it had become a classic because I can sing harmony to it, but it's true.) I can't carry this harmony throughout the whole song, so I have to give it my Ethel Merman all during those brief shining moments. It is a feast for the ears. Why do you look so doubtful about that assertion, O cynical one?

Lately, I've noticed that everyone seems to be able to sing harmony. I'll be in church, and someone will sing regular harmony, which I guess is alto, but then there's another phenomenon going on, a "high harmony" where people sing like Vince Gill up-high-on-that-mountain.

Now, if you are one of the talented ones in the congregation, I don't blame you for expressing the gift God gave you. You go, Vince or Vincette.

But when a vocally-challenged person such as me gets between you altos and you Vince Gills, we are in a no-man's land, and we are lost and skeert to sing.

When this situation happens to me, I can't follow the melody anymore, because a whole different song is in my ear. I can't sing harmony because my voice is ... not bilingual. It's sort of illiterate.

So sometimes I just stand there and try to meditate on the words, but I get distracted by all of the choral gymnastics going on around me.

The Christmas season, of course, brings out the madrigal caroler in everyone, so my lack of ability is underscored even more at every holiday event.

So, are you a loud harmonizer? Or, if you are melodiously challenged like me, do you ever feel overwhelmed by harmonious surround sound?

Speaking of Vince Gill (see about 400 words up there) my mother would like a song of his for Christmas which she thinks is called "Hands Down," but I'm not having any luck finding it. If you are a fan (of Vince, not my mom) do you know of any title that sounds similar, or a chorus that might have that refrain?

And now, I bring you a very representative sample of my singing, first sent to me by Annette of Annie's Eyes, which you only need listen to a few seconds to understand how I sound and feel in church:

Coffee Church?

I picked this video up from a site called Beyond Relevance. I don't know enough about the organization to endorse it or distance myself from it, but I saw this video, and it made me laugh, made me frustrated, but most of all, made me think.

The church for which I work is, of course, always looking for ways to draw the community, and all in all, I think we do a pretty good job. But the times, as Dylan said, "they are a changin'." They always are. The message must stay the same (Gospel) but the method of delivery has got to be relevant ... and a bunch of other churchy buzzword things.

Our entire staff is going to be reading "Simple Church" together over the next few weeks, so it will be interesting to hear what comes of that.

So don't be offended by this video. Just look at it as a thought/discussion provoker. I'd like to know your thoughts about the topic.