I spent the summer after I graduated from high school working for a day camp sponsored by Caritas and the Boys’ and Girls’ Clubs of Waco. It was not what I wanted to be doing, but I had declared myself too old to junior staff at Camp Lone Star and my parents had declared me too young to join the full time staff. Working at this day camp was supposed to be the next best thing, but it ended up being the most physically and emotionally draining experience I have ever had (yes, even more draining than all the summers that I was on staff at Lone Star). Almost all of the children were from very poor families, and had experienced a very different lifestyle than I had. Most days I went home and cried and then was asleep by 8 or 9.
This is not a sad story from that summer. Instead, it’s one of the funniest kid moments I’ve ever experienced.
It was toward the end of the summer, and I was in charge of a group of about 18 seven and eight olds. One day, we had finished our afternoon snack and were waiting for it to be time for us to move on to the next activity, so we were sitting around talking and the kids started asking me questions.
Kid: How old are you, Miss Sherrah?
Me: 18.
Kid: Do you have any kids?
Me: No.
Kid: Why not?
Me (trying to think how to tactfully answer): I’m not old enough to have kids.
Kid: My sister’s 18 and she has a kid.
Me: Well, I’m not married.
Kid: My sister’s not married.
Me (again, trying to be tactful): I want to wait until I'm married to have kids.
Kid: Well, could you have kids now?
Me (thinking, well, technically, yes, but considering that I'm not going to do anything which will enable me to get pregnant until I'm married...): Nooo....
Kid (in complete awe and wonderment): You mean you’re FIXED?
Monday, January 31, 2005
Monday, January 24, 2005
But it DOES Matter!
Tonight at a Bible study I heard something that really struck me. Some background: it’s a women’s study, and many of these women have been through a couple other Bible studies together. This was the second night of this particular study, but it was my first time to be there and I hadn’t done any of the “homework” so I mostly just listened.
One of the questions they discussed was something along the lines of “What do you think Jesus meant when he said ‘It is finished’?” The women started throwing out different ideas: it was the end of his suffering, the end of the old covenant and the beginning of the new, the end of his work on earth, the fulfillment of salvation, etc. One of the women commented, “What about Easter? Wasn’t it really finished with the resurrection?”
And here’s what struck me—another woman said that it’s Jesus’ death that made the difference. She always felt that the resurrection was more for our (or his disciples’) benefits just so we could see him again and that if he hadn’t risen, it wouldn’t have mattered. Salvation would be complete without the resurrection.
I saw a couple of women who looked like they wanted to respond to that, but we were distracted by a couple kids coming in and then when we regained our focus, we moved on to the next question. I would have liked a chance to respond, so here’s what I wanted to say:
But it DOES matter! Jesus’ resurrection makes ALL the difference. Anyone can die, but only one can raise himself from the dead. Certainly, it does take a very special person to sacrifice himself so that someone else can live, but dying is something we will all do one day. There’s nothing special about dying. If Jesus had only died, then he would have been only man, and how can the death of someone who is only man make any difference to my salvation? Only the death of one who is both God and man can make a difference because only God can conquer death, and that, to me, is what the resurrection is about—death being conquered, and through that, sin being conquered. If there was no resurrection, then death has not been overcome, and neither has sin.
From 1 Corinthians 15:14, 17 “If Christ has not risen, then our preaching is empty and your faith is also empty….And if Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins!”
What would be the significance of Good Friday if there wasn’t an Easter Sunday? There would be none! We would still be dead in our sins if Jesus hadn’t risen! So again, my response to this woman’s statement is, the resurrection makes all the difference in the world.
One of the questions they discussed was something along the lines of “What do you think Jesus meant when he said ‘It is finished’?” The women started throwing out different ideas: it was the end of his suffering, the end of the old covenant and the beginning of the new, the end of his work on earth, the fulfillment of salvation, etc. One of the women commented, “What about Easter? Wasn’t it really finished with the resurrection?”
And here’s what struck me—another woman said that it’s Jesus’ death that made the difference. She always felt that the resurrection was more for our (or his disciples’) benefits just so we could see him again and that if he hadn’t risen, it wouldn’t have mattered. Salvation would be complete without the resurrection.
I saw a couple of women who looked like they wanted to respond to that, but we were distracted by a couple kids coming in and then when we regained our focus, we moved on to the next question. I would have liked a chance to respond, so here’s what I wanted to say:
But it DOES matter! Jesus’ resurrection makes ALL the difference. Anyone can die, but only one can raise himself from the dead. Certainly, it does take a very special person to sacrifice himself so that someone else can live, but dying is something we will all do one day. There’s nothing special about dying. If Jesus had only died, then he would have been only man, and how can the death of someone who is only man make any difference to my salvation? Only the death of one who is both God and man can make a difference because only God can conquer death, and that, to me, is what the resurrection is about—death being conquered, and through that, sin being conquered. If there was no resurrection, then death has not been overcome, and neither has sin.
From 1 Corinthians 15:14, 17 “If Christ has not risen, then our preaching is empty and your faith is also empty….And if Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins!”
What would be the significance of Good Friday if there wasn’t an Easter Sunday? There would be none! We would still be dead in our sins if Jesus hadn’t risen! So again, my response to this woman’s statement is, the resurrection makes all the difference in the world.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Miss Fix-It
This morning I woke up (on time, which is quite an accomplishment) and got in the shower. To turn on the water, I have to pull out a knob and then turn it to the left or the right to adjust the temperature. Today, I pulled the stupid thing right off and almost lost the little screw that's supposed to hold it in place. I'm very proud of myself, though. Rather than panicking and wondering how I was supposed to shower if I couldn't adjust the temperature of the water (I do NOT take cold showers, ever), I stayed calm and found my screw-driver and fixed the problem.
Granted, this was a very easy problem to fix. Over the weekend, I faced a much larger problem. Sunday evening I noticed that the carpet in my dining area was soaking wet. And I could not find where the water was coming from!!! I laid towels over the carpet, but it was so wet that the towels were soaking in a very short amount of time. I hate calling maintenance out to fix things. I don't like having big men I don't know tramping through my nice little apartment. And I don't like admitting that I can't fix something myself (that whole independence thing, you know). This time there was nothing I could do about it and I had to call. It turns out my neighbor's refridgerator was leaking.
I suppose I come by this whole wanting to fix things myself naturally. In this way I am definitely my father's daughter. The only difference being that my father actually knows what he's doing...most of the time. There was a time back when I was in high school that he decided he was going to fix my piano. A couple of the keys were sticking and a couple others had wandering hammers that hit the strings of the key next to it, producing a very nasty sound. My father's job is to keep giant, complex machines running, and he thought that if he could do that, he could easily fix something as simple as a piano.
I remember being in my room doing homework when Mom came in and said, "Sherrah, you need to come see this." I walked into the living room, and the first thing I noticed was that my piano was naked. Dad had taken off the front panels and the lid so he could see inside it, and then he had taken off each individual key. The next think I noticed was the pile of piano keys in the corner. The only sound I could make was a very faint "eek!" followed by a "you better be able to fix this!"
Dad did manage to put everything back together, and the piano still worked, for the most part. But we did have to call a piano tuner to come fix the original problems, and the new ones that Dad had created. He hasn't attempted to fix the piano since. And I remain grateful for that.
Granted, this was a very easy problem to fix. Over the weekend, I faced a much larger problem. Sunday evening I noticed that the carpet in my dining area was soaking wet. And I could not find where the water was coming from!!! I laid towels over the carpet, but it was so wet that the towels were soaking in a very short amount of time. I hate calling maintenance out to fix things. I don't like having big men I don't know tramping through my nice little apartment. And I don't like admitting that I can't fix something myself (that whole independence thing, you know). This time there was nothing I could do about it and I had to call. It turns out my neighbor's refridgerator was leaking.
I suppose I come by this whole wanting to fix things myself naturally. In this way I am definitely my father's daughter. The only difference being that my father actually knows what he's doing...most of the time. There was a time back when I was in high school that he decided he was going to fix my piano. A couple of the keys were sticking and a couple others had wandering hammers that hit the strings of the key next to it, producing a very nasty sound. My father's job is to keep giant, complex machines running, and he thought that if he could do that, he could easily fix something as simple as a piano.
I remember being in my room doing homework when Mom came in and said, "Sherrah, you need to come see this." I walked into the living room, and the first thing I noticed was that my piano was naked. Dad had taken off the front panels and the lid so he could see inside it, and then he had taken off each individual key. The next think I noticed was the pile of piano keys in the corner. The only sound I could make was a very faint "eek!" followed by a "you better be able to fix this!"
Dad did manage to put everything back together, and the piano still worked, for the most part. But we did have to call a piano tuner to come fix the original problems, and the new ones that Dad had created. He hasn't attempted to fix the piano since. And I remain grateful for that.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
I'm New to This
For a while now I've heard people talking about blogs. Most of it is along the lines of "Have you seen so-and-so's blog?" or "Why haven't you updated your blog recently?", etc. This week I decided to look into this whole blog thing, and you know what I've decided?
It looks like fun!
So I've decided to join the fun. Who knows how often I'll post, or what I'll write about, or if anyone's even interested in reading it, but I intend to have fun with it. I always have stories to tell--about my crazy family or about the random things that tend to happen to me or about my adventures in traveling; basically about everything. Life is a story to me, and it'll be fun to share some of my life stories.
I decided to call this thing Water Walking because I think it's the most apt metaphor for living in faith, and that's something I strive to do. More often than not, I find myself treading water, or even drowning, but walking on water is my goal. I also think that physically walking on water would have to be the coolest thing ever and I hope one day I can master it. So far I haven't had the guts to do more than hold my foot over the surface of the lake out at Camp, but in my imagination, walking on water is absolutely sublime.
So. Here I am.
It looks like fun!
So I've decided to join the fun. Who knows how often I'll post, or what I'll write about, or if anyone's even interested in reading it, but I intend to have fun with it. I always have stories to tell--about my crazy family or about the random things that tend to happen to me or about my adventures in traveling; basically about everything. Life is a story to me, and it'll be fun to share some of my life stories.
I decided to call this thing Water Walking because I think it's the most apt metaphor for living in faith, and that's something I strive to do. More often than not, I find myself treading water, or even drowning, but walking on water is my goal. I also think that physically walking on water would have to be the coolest thing ever and I hope one day I can master it. So far I haven't had the guts to do more than hold my foot over the surface of the lake out at Camp, but in my imagination, walking on water is absolutely sublime.
So. Here I am.
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