…a reflection from someone who attended the first service of Golden Acres Baptist @ “The Fort”
You Can’t Wear Flip Flops on Easter…
I have heard it my entire life. You see, before I was a minister’s wife, I was John and Linda’s daughter. Some of you may know my sweet mother and can attest to this fact… “Miss Manners” has nothing on her. Etiquette and appropriate behavior was pounded into mine and my sister’s head from birth. My mom had but one goal: cultured and refined young ladies (Sorry, mom… you did your best). The phrase “that is just the way things are done” governed most of our life.
In our family we celebrated every holiday with a big family gathering. Easter was no exception. You may not know this but, my family is originally from a little town in West Tennessee. We call it the “country.” In the country where we celebrated, we had one simple rule. You wore new clothes on Easter. This was at the insistence of my grandmother who was even more proper than my mother. Dresses, hats, shoes, even panty hose were bought. The whole family was always decked out. We went to church and sat together as a family.
Now I know that clothes do not make the person, but in my family there was an unspoken rule about church attendance and wearing the best you possibly had. To this day you will see my father in NOTHING but a suit and tie in church. I have explained over and over again that we are in Alabama…IT IS HOT HERE! The preacher doesn’t even wear a suit. My daddy will have no part of it…
So you understand why it was just a little awkward for me today.
Today I wore a t-shirt and flip flops. IT IS EASTER! I kept laughing to myself wondering what my sweet grandmother would have thought about my attire. I know what my mom will say when I call her this afternoon.
Today was a work day for us. We (Golden Acres Baptist Church) started a church in Fort Mitchell, Alabama that met for the very first service today in Mount Olive Elementary School. A very passionate guy (translation: crazy) named Adam Johnson had the audacity to listen to God and then do what He said, hence the beginning of “One Church in Two Locations.” Without going into a lot of details, we are the same church body just 20 miles apart. Our goal: to establish another location for unchurched people to hear about Jesus Christ.
“Mission” is not just about going around the world. Sometimes it is going down the street.
So today we worked. I walked more, sweated more and prayed more today than I have in a while. I told the girls that today wasn’t about them. I didn’t care how hot they were, or how tired they were getting. Today we serve. Today we work. This Easter we are going to give Jesus a present because long ago HE gave us the best present of all.
I never in my wildest dreams thought I would get to participate in “church “ today. My goal was to serve and work and I could have “church” later.
I was wrong…
God had another plan. All day I kept having these moments. Moments where I had to stop take a minute to savor what was happening. My first moment happened standing outside of the children’s service absolutely crying, tears running down my face as I listened to them sing to Jesus. One of the most precious things to me is hearing children praise God.
My second moment was much more personal. A glorious mom moment I will never trade. Now I don’t want Lindsey in full-time vocational ministry if that is not her calling, but I do expect her to serve Jesus somehow. I just never thought I would get to see it today. When I saw Lindsey standing by herself in a school hallway greeting strangers, and pointing them to the Worship Service, I almost couldn’t contain myself. Serving a Risen Savior, on Easter, showing others Christ, as a child, what more could a mother want?
I thought today was about giving God a gift, but He kept giving them back to me!
The place was packed, but I expected it to be. The launch team has worked so diligently to make it a success, and one more thing…WE SERVE A BIG GOD!
I have tried all weekend to wrap my mind around Easter and sacrifice. To not let it be just a fun holiday about bunnies, candy, and eggs…but to really explain the true meaning of Easter to our girls. To help them see that the new clothes aren’t as important as a new heart and a changed life. It is not wearing your best, but giving your best for His glory…so others can hear.
I must say, this has been my favorite Easter weekend to date. I am so thankful we serve a God who loved us enough to give up everything to be with us.
I know in Heaven… God smiled today as the first convert accepted Christ as her Savior. I am also pretty sure that my grandmother was watching, and smiling as she quietly overlooked my rhinestone flip flops.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
PedaL
Pedal
One of my epic failures in motherhood has been to successfully teach Anna Kate to ride her bike. I guess I should clarify. The concept has been grasped, it is the execution she finds daunting. She gets the whole idea of pedaling; it is just controlling the bike that is an issue. Whenever she gets out of control, going too fast, or just a little scared she jumps off. She will totally ditch her bike.
Despite countless warnings, skinned knees and dangerous crashes, she won’t stay on. I have gently explained that you cannot control the bike if you are not on it. If you want to regain control you have to stay on the bike. She absolutely refuses. Several failed attempts where one or both of us ends in tears, has caused her to give up completely. There is no childhood joy for her and that bike.
In an attempt to salvage this rite of passage, we took her to Callaway Gardens. Our goal here was simple; see other people riding and having fun and maybe she would too.
Now, Gary and I are fairly intelligent people, but we completely missed this one. Training wheels won’t go on trails. In our attempt to have a big, fun, family adventure, we overlooked the obvious.
We had started off well, everyone was happy. Then we rounded the corner and realized that the terrain was changing. Anna Kate was doing fine on what she called “the smooth” ( concrete). It was the mulch and the dirt that got her. I sent Gary and Lindsey on, and I stayed behind with her. My only goal was to encourage her, and to try not to let her see my laughing as her wheels just spun in the landscape. She would pedal and do nothing but spin her wheels. As the dirt was flying and she was getting frustrated, I decided I had better push her.
I am certain that other people thought I was killing her as dirt and tears ran down her little face. I’ll admit we were a sight to see, and then it got worse. She quit on me.
Complete and total surrender to the trail. White flag failure. She made every possible excuse, blamed anything and anyone around, and then sat down, took off her helmet, and cried.
Now some of you know me pretty well, and I am sure you can envision this battle of wills in the middle of the forest. She was determined to quit. I offered no reprieve. I picked up her bike, put her on it and said, “Pedal!”
Her big, blue, eyes looked at me in bewilderment. She was tired. She was hot. She was DONE. But… we were in the middle of the journey and there was only one way out. She had to pedal. If we were to get through this, she had to get back on and start again.
I had just about given up on her making it and then I saw her face. She heard something. Lindsey and Gary had gone on before us. From way down the trail, she could hear Lindsey:
“Come on Anna Kate, you can do it. You are a big girl. Get on your bike and ride! I know you are tired, but I just did it. The next part is smooth, it is flat. Ride to me!” Anna Kate, I am waiting for you, come on!”
Her little face lit up, she got on the bike and started to try. Then she heard the booming voice of her daddy coming through the trees. “Let’s go little girl! Keep pedaling. You can do this, I am over here. Ride to me. I am not going to leave you. Get out of the dirt, and get over here.”
She started talking to herself, “keep pedaling, almost there. I can hear them. I can do this. Look Mommy, I am doing this.”
By the time we actually got to them I was in tears. My baby had just had a personal victory, and it was all over her face. It was hard, and dirty and exhausting, and she had done it. I had just witnessed a holy moment.
You see, God drew a parallel for me between our humanness and His Holiness.
Sometimes life is hard, it gets downright dirty. You get stuck. It is easier to quit than to keep going. Your wheels won’t turn and the path isn’t smooth. The day is getting long and your strength is failing.
BUT
There is a Father waiting for you, and a great cloud of witnesses who have gone before cheering your name. ( Hebrews 12:1).
The way may be thick, and you may be getting tired. With dirt on your face, skinned knees and tears, get back on the bike.......................and Pedal!
.
One of my epic failures in motherhood has been to successfully teach Anna Kate to ride her bike. I guess I should clarify. The concept has been grasped, it is the execution she finds daunting. She gets the whole idea of pedaling; it is just controlling the bike that is an issue. Whenever she gets out of control, going too fast, or just a little scared she jumps off. She will totally ditch her bike.
Despite countless warnings, skinned knees and dangerous crashes, she won’t stay on. I have gently explained that you cannot control the bike if you are not on it. If you want to regain control you have to stay on the bike. She absolutely refuses. Several failed attempts where one or both of us ends in tears, has caused her to give up completely. There is no childhood joy for her and that bike.
In an attempt to salvage this rite of passage, we took her to Callaway Gardens. Our goal here was simple; see other people riding and having fun and maybe she would too.
Now, Gary and I are fairly intelligent people, but we completely missed this one. Training wheels won’t go on trails. In our attempt to have a big, fun, family adventure, we overlooked the obvious.
We had started off well, everyone was happy. Then we rounded the corner and realized that the terrain was changing. Anna Kate was doing fine on what she called “the smooth” ( concrete). It was the mulch and the dirt that got her. I sent Gary and Lindsey on, and I stayed behind with her. My only goal was to encourage her, and to try not to let her see my laughing as her wheels just spun in the landscape. She would pedal and do nothing but spin her wheels. As the dirt was flying and she was getting frustrated, I decided I had better push her.
I am certain that other people thought I was killing her as dirt and tears ran down her little face. I’ll admit we were a sight to see, and then it got worse. She quit on me.
Complete and total surrender to the trail. White flag failure. She made every possible excuse, blamed anything and anyone around, and then sat down, took off her helmet, and cried.
Now some of you know me pretty well, and I am sure you can envision this battle of wills in the middle of the forest. She was determined to quit. I offered no reprieve. I picked up her bike, put her on it and said, “Pedal!”
Her big, blue, eyes looked at me in bewilderment. She was tired. She was hot. She was DONE. But… we were in the middle of the journey and there was only one way out. She had to pedal. If we were to get through this, she had to get back on and start again.
I had just about given up on her making it and then I saw her face. She heard something. Lindsey and Gary had gone on before us. From way down the trail, she could hear Lindsey:
“Come on Anna Kate, you can do it. You are a big girl. Get on your bike and ride! I know you are tired, but I just did it. The next part is smooth, it is flat. Ride to me!” Anna Kate, I am waiting for you, come on!”
Her little face lit up, she got on the bike and started to try. Then she heard the booming voice of her daddy coming through the trees. “Let’s go little girl! Keep pedaling. You can do this, I am over here. Ride to me. I am not going to leave you. Get out of the dirt, and get over here.”
She started talking to herself, “keep pedaling, almost there. I can hear them. I can do this. Look Mommy, I am doing this.”
By the time we actually got to them I was in tears. My baby had just had a personal victory, and it was all over her face. It was hard, and dirty and exhausting, and she had done it. I had just witnessed a holy moment.
You see, God drew a parallel for me between our humanness and His Holiness.
Sometimes life is hard, it gets downright dirty. You get stuck. It is easier to quit than to keep going. Your wheels won’t turn and the path isn’t smooth. The day is getting long and your strength is failing.
BUT
There is a Father waiting for you, and a great cloud of witnesses who have gone before cheering your name. ( Hebrews 12:1).
The way may be thick, and you may be getting tired. With dirt on your face, skinned knees and tears, get back on the bike.......................and Pedal!
.
God Cares about Baseball?
Children, my life has been devoted to them. Thousands of kids have darkened my door. Every kind, shape and color. In all this time spent with kids I have come to one conclusion. There are only two kinds of kids.
The first kind of kid needs time, love, encouragement, and support sprinkled with a little fun and discipline. Then there is the other kind of kid. They just need MORE. The ones that will test every bit of patience, every ounce of kindness, the ones who will absolutely exhaust you if you let them.
It seems like every year I get a few “ MORE” kids. They seem to be prevelant lately. I have been told that the only way to deal with these kids is pray for an answer.... or exorcism.
This proposition collides with my current philosophy about my students. I had a revelation years ago about my classroom and my kids. I do not pray about my problems with students. I know it sounds weird, but it just wasn’t working for me. "God, help me not to lose my temper when "Willie Bob" interrupts me for the 65th. time!" I would pray for them (whatever our classroom problems was) and then all day long I would focus on what I prayed for, watching for the answers. This will make you crazy. It made me crazy.
I determined that I would pray for God to show me Him in situations and show ME what to do. If I spent my time focused on Him, then their problems would seem so small.
I try very hard not to waiver from this plan. So, I was really shocked last Thursday night. I was in my bed praying and I kept seeing one of my students flash across my mind. I would ignore it and try to focus, but I just couldn’t. I finally asked God “ What’s up with this kid?”
Now the little side note is... he is one of those “ MORE “ kids. I have expended so much energy on this one child that I actually thought that was why he was now invading my prayer life.
God was pretty straight with me though (usually is). He said “You have been pretty rough on him this week. He has done everything you asked. He needs some special attention tomorrow. A treat, a reward, a kind word from you. He needs some affirmation. He needs to HEAR YOU say good job. He has done his part, now step up and do yours.
Well...ok then. Not one to want to argue with God,
I went to bed determined that I would be obedient the next day.
Friday morning came, and I was on duty in the gym. I saw him walk across the floor. I swallowed hard and told him to come to me. I actually told him EVERYTHING. I explained that while I was praying, he was on my mind. I told him how God told me to talk to him. I told him that he had done well, and I was so proud of him for his efforts. He would get to choose a reward.
I wish you could have seen his face as I talked to him. I thought he was going to cry. He looked at me and said “ I needed to hear that I had done good (his words). Mrs. Millraney, last night was a bad night. You see, my mom was sick. She didn’t make it to my ballgame. I hit my first homerun this year, and there was no one there to cheer for me.
I stood there amazed. Not so much at his situation, but at my God.
The idea that an 11 year old kid, and his broken heart...touched the heart of God. So much in fact that God told his teacher(me) to cut him some slack, and love on him the next day.
Honestly, it sent chills down my spine.
The Creator of the Universe who holds time in His hands. The author of life and death. GOD! ....And all our tears matter to Him. Not earth shattering tears...nobody died. It was just a game, but it was important to him and so it was important to God.
I have always believed that God cares about the little things in our lives. And now I have some proof!
Just think...God even cares about baseball.
.
The first kind of kid needs time, love, encouragement, and support sprinkled with a little fun and discipline. Then there is the other kind of kid. They just need MORE. The ones that will test every bit of patience, every ounce of kindness, the ones who will absolutely exhaust you if you let them.
It seems like every year I get a few “ MORE” kids. They seem to be prevelant lately. I have been told that the only way to deal with these kids is pray for an answer.... or exorcism.
This proposition collides with my current philosophy about my students. I had a revelation years ago about my classroom and my kids. I do not pray about my problems with students. I know it sounds weird, but it just wasn’t working for me. "God, help me not to lose my temper when "Willie Bob" interrupts me for the 65th. time!" I would pray for them (whatever our classroom problems was) and then all day long I would focus on what I prayed for, watching for the answers. This will make you crazy. It made me crazy.
I determined that I would pray for God to show me Him in situations and show ME what to do. If I spent my time focused on Him, then their problems would seem so small.
I try very hard not to waiver from this plan. So, I was really shocked last Thursday night. I was in my bed praying and I kept seeing one of my students flash across my mind. I would ignore it and try to focus, but I just couldn’t. I finally asked God “ What’s up with this kid?”
Now the little side note is... he is one of those “ MORE “ kids. I have expended so much energy on this one child that I actually thought that was why he was now invading my prayer life.
God was pretty straight with me though (usually is). He said “You have been pretty rough on him this week. He has done everything you asked. He needs some special attention tomorrow. A treat, a reward, a kind word from you. He needs some affirmation. He needs to HEAR YOU say good job. He has done his part, now step up and do yours.
Well...ok then. Not one to want to argue with God,
I went to bed determined that I would be obedient the next day.
Friday morning came, and I was on duty in the gym. I saw him walk across the floor. I swallowed hard and told him to come to me. I actually told him EVERYTHING. I explained that while I was praying, he was on my mind. I told him how God told me to talk to him. I told him that he had done well, and I was so proud of him for his efforts. He would get to choose a reward.
I wish you could have seen his face as I talked to him. I thought he was going to cry. He looked at me and said “ I needed to hear that I had done good (his words). Mrs. Millraney, last night was a bad night. You see, my mom was sick. She didn’t make it to my ballgame. I hit my first homerun this year, and there was no one there to cheer for me.
I stood there amazed. Not so much at his situation, but at my God.
The idea that an 11 year old kid, and his broken heart...touched the heart of God. So much in fact that God told his teacher(me) to cut him some slack, and love on him the next day.
Honestly, it sent chills down my spine.
The Creator of the Universe who holds time in His hands. The author of life and death. GOD! ....And all our tears matter to Him. Not earth shattering tears...nobody died. It was just a game, but it was important to him and so it was important to God.
I have always believed that God cares about the little things in our lives. And now I have some proof!
Just think...God even cares about baseball.
.
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