This is the door.
Said door is a very colorful door. A very old door. A very broken door. It is the entrance way to our classroom where most of our lessons happen. Therefore, it is a very frequented door, as an escape route for the kids out of their normal environment.
The door is not just a passageway, it's also a barrier. Sometimes we need to keep kids out. When we have reading classes with the younger children, the older ones are kept out, so we can give 100% of our attention to the little kiddies for an hour. When we have youth group with the teens, we rely on the door to keep out the younger kids.
The only problem is the door.
The door is about 100 years old and is always breaking. Might have something to do with the kids literally ramming into it to break it down to get in. I think they imagine they will find Narnia when they spill through the door.
So sometimes one of us has to stand guard at the door. Block it. Lean against it from the inside so we can continue with lessons or youth group.
I love the door.
The door shows me that the kids have seen God. They know when they come through the door, one of God's servants is waiting to hug them. Kirsteen is in there with instruments and patience. Steven is in there with a soccer ball and words of wisdom. The interns, Megan and Samantha, are in there with smiles and laughs.
The kids will physically break down the door to get that attention, love and connection. They have felt God their Father, even if they don't realize it. Thankfully, we are free to share His word with them everyday.
Last week, I was blocking the door as Steven was sharing a message with the youth group. One of my little buddies, Robi, smashed his RIDICULOUSLY CUTE little face against the broken pane of glass to talk to me.
"Haley! Hi!" Very loud voice. Distracting all of youth group.
"Hi Robi," I whisper. "You have to be quiet because we are about to pray. Do you want to pray with us?"
"Yes!" A bit quieter.
"Ok, do you know how to pray? Close your eyes and tell God something you are thankful for. Like, 'Dear God, thank you for Robi because he is such a good boy.' Your turn."
Through the door, he says the entire Our Father. In that really cute way where kids don't understand all the big words clearly. Like, 'your willbie-done.' But he thanked God for all of his blessings, and at the end he adds "and thank you for Steven and Haley for helping me." He looked at me through the missing glass (I was peeking) smiled and ran away down the hall to play.
That door. It doesn't really keep anyone out. It definitely doesn't keep God out. Ask, seek, knock and the door will be opened.
Despite all that exists for these kids outside the door, they demonstrate faith and thankfulness. I never cease to be amazed at a childlike faith.
they say that love can heal the broken
they say hope can make you see
they say that faith can find a Savior
if you would follow and believe
with faith like a child.
-jars of clay, faith like a child
Thank you God for the door.
{h}
Said door is a very colorful door. A very old door. A very broken door. It is the entrance way to our classroom where most of our lessons happen. Therefore, it is a very frequented door, as an escape route for the kids out of their normal environment.
The door is not just a passageway, it's also a barrier. Sometimes we need to keep kids out. When we have reading classes with the younger children, the older ones are kept out, so we can give 100% of our attention to the little kiddies for an hour. When we have youth group with the teens, we rely on the door to keep out the younger kids.
The only problem is the door.
The door is about 100 years old and is always breaking. Might have something to do with the kids literally ramming into it to break it down to get in. I think they imagine they will find Narnia when they spill through the door.
So sometimes one of us has to stand guard at the door. Block it. Lean against it from the inside so we can continue with lessons or youth group.
I love the door.
The door shows me that the kids have seen God. They know when they come through the door, one of God's servants is waiting to hug them. Kirsteen is in there with instruments and patience. Steven is in there with a soccer ball and words of wisdom. The interns, Megan and Samantha, are in there with smiles and laughs.
The kids will physically break down the door to get that attention, love and connection. They have felt God their Father, even if they don't realize it. Thankfully, we are free to share His word with them everyday.
Last week, I was blocking the door as Steven was sharing a message with the youth group. One of my little buddies, Robi, smashed his RIDICULOUSLY CUTE little face against the broken pane of glass to talk to me.
"Haley! Hi!" Very loud voice. Distracting all of youth group.
"Hi Robi," I whisper. "You have to be quiet because we are about to pray. Do you want to pray with us?"
"Yes!" A bit quieter.
"Ok, do you know how to pray? Close your eyes and tell God something you are thankful for. Like, 'Dear God, thank you for Robi because he is such a good boy.' Your turn."
Through the door, he says the entire Our Father. In that really cute way where kids don't understand all the big words clearly. Like, 'your willbie-done.' But he thanked God for all of his blessings, and at the end he adds "and thank you for Steven and Haley for helping me." He looked at me through the missing glass (I was peeking) smiled and ran away down the hall to play.
That door. It doesn't really keep anyone out. It definitely doesn't keep God out. Ask, seek, knock and the door will be opened.
Despite all that exists for these kids outside the door, they demonstrate faith and thankfulness. I never cease to be amazed at a childlike faith.
they say that love can heal the broken
they say hope can make you see
they say that faith can find a Savior
if you would follow and believe
with faith like a child.
-jars of clay, faith like a child
Thank you God for the door.
{h}
