Blast From The Past

Dear 16-year-old Michael,

Over the course of a decade, some people change a little, some people change a lot. You, my friend, became a completely different person. I remember that you were pretty worried about the future, so I wanted to ease your mind a tad and let you in on a couple of things. Just to assure you it’s gonna be fine.

IRONY:
• Everyone knows you can’t draw. You blow chow when it comes to art. Funny thing is… you’re going to have to paint and draw on an almost weekly basis… for a job.
• You’re scared of preschoolers right now, so naturally you’re going to teach them at a day care. Don’t worry, none of them will eat their own poop. THAT will happen with a school-ager.
• Mom will one day be a fan of some of the same Christian rock groups she condemns right now. When that happens, feel free to rub it in.
• You currently hate coffee. 10 years later, you hate life when you can’t have coffee.


ADVICE:
• Stop wearing all those stupid bright orange shirts. You look like a dweeb. Seriously. And lay off the hostess cakes. You won’t miss them, I promise.
• When Caleb tells you to quit twisting his arm… quit twisting his arm. Or he’ll lock you out of the house.
• Invest in deer repellent for your vehicles.
• Pay attention in Spanish. It will come in handy. Chemistry, however, will not.
• Getting your cartilage pierced at the mall isn’t wise. The worker will get the gun stuck in your ear and make you hold the gun while she takes it apart… with the needle extended through your ear the entire time.


GIRLS:
• You think you’re ready to get married right out of high school. I’m still laughing over that one.
• Long distance… never works.
• Taking a girl to see Hostel is a bad, bad idea. That movie is nothing it looks like in the previews.
• When going on a blind date, bowling doesn’t work. When you’re bowling, she’s sitting. When she’s bowling, you’re sitting. Unless she’s ugly, then it’s totally ideal.


CHURCH:
• Believe it or not, you’ll eventually work at a church that isn’t Baptist (you heretic, you).
• I know you really want to be a choir teacher, and you definitely never want to work in church. However, God has different plans. One day you're actually gonna get paid to both teach kids, and teach others how to teach kids.

SURPRISE:
• I know it's weird, but in 2 years, your hair will be curly. I swear. Strangest thing ever.
• One day you and Tammie will be best friends. No, I'm not lying. And no, she's not forcing me to say this.
• You don’t like singing alone to a crowd of 30. However, you’ll find out you enjoy teaching alone to a crowd of 3,000. Who knew?
• You write for the school newspaper merely for kicks and giggles, but writing will eventually be an integral part of your career.

FYI
• When you get to college, you’re going to randomly volunteer for the first church you get an email from. The name of that church will be Far Hills. The direction of your life will totally hinge on that decision. The foundation of who you are and where you’re going to go will be laid at that place.
• One day, you’ll think you hear God’s voice telling you to go to Israel. You’ll immediately question whether or not it is His voice. It is.
• Your little boycott of Facebook will be short lived.
• Muslims scare you right now, because you listen to the news too much. But one day God will ask you to put down the picket signs and trade in that fear for love. You’ll find a new passion in bringing Christ to them by loving and befriending them.

COMFORT
• You won’t drive the family suburban forever.
• Mom quits asking to see your report card when you hit your senior year.
• You’ll still be in contact with your two favorite HS teachers, even after college is over!
• Cooking isn’t really that hard. Just don’t leave the burner on. And remember… when you burn the chicken… there’s always Subway.

I’d share more, but I don’t want to ruin any surprises for you. Enjoy the next few years. They’re going to fly by. Seriously. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Blessings!
26-year-old Michael

First Day of School: A Survival Story

Ninja Turtles and Strawberry Shakes

We missed orientation, so I really didn’t know what was on the other side of that big brown door that lead to the modular kindergarten room behind the school. The muffled noises diffusing through it seemed to prove Mom’s claim that there really were other children behind it. But that didn’t really change the fact that I didn’t want to go in that room. If it weren’t for the new Ninja Turtle Velcro shoes I had gotten out of the deal (mom wasn't afraid of using bribery), I would have turned and ran back to the comfort of our Astro van.

It didn’t help much that Tammie (my older niece) had made it a point to try to scare the living daylights out of me by making up school-themed horror stories. Thanks to her, I was thoroughly convinced that I was going to get shoved in a locker, get lost in the hallways, pee my pants in class because the teacher wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom, get sent to the principal's office, and get a swirly (whatever that was), all on my first day.

However, I had already promised Mom that I’d give it a shot. She told me she knew it would be scary, but she also said she had a feeling that I’d love it there. Besides, if I made it through the day without calling home, she promised we would go get a strawberry shake from McDonald’s – a treat reserved only for the most special of occasions.

Mom turned the door handle way before I was ready, and gently nudged me in. I was tempted to close my eyes, but a tall, blonde, kindly woman greeted me immediately. “You must be Michael! I’m Mrs. Lund, and I’m your teacher. Welcome to Kindergarten. You’re going to love it here.”

And she was right. So was mom. I’d like to tell you that I didn’t cry, but then I’d be lying. Once a mama’s boy, always a mama’s boy. But I still enjoyed the day like they said I would. When the dismissal bell rang, Mom was there to pick me up and take me out on our date. Truth be told, I felt like I was the luckiest kid on earth. I got a new pair of shoes, a nice teacher, AND a strawberry shake? It was a great day.

The Longest Block

It’s hard to believe it was almost 21 years ago when I first set foot in a school hallway. The other day, I asked my mom what it was like from her point of view. I was her 6^th child, so I just assumed it was nothing short of routine for her by then. Her response, however, surprised me.

“I was a nervous wreck,” she said.

“But you were so calm, I had no idea!” I replied.

“After I dropped you off, I drove home, got out of the car, and just started walking. I probably walked ten miles that day, maybe even more. And I cried the entire time,” she explained.

I’ll sheepishly admit that my ego puffed up a bit when she told me that. It’s not every day you hear someone tell you that they cried for hours when you left his or her presence.  “Oh, so you were crying because you missed me?”

“No, that wasn’t it,” she laughed. I think I even caught a hint of an eye roll.
Ego deflated.

“Oh gee, thanks,” I retorted, feigning hurt. “Then why did you cry?”

“Of course I missed you. And it was hard watching you grow up, but the BIG reason I cried was because I knew that Dad and I were no longer the sole input in your life. Sure, up until then you were constantly around other people, but they were still people that we chose, and we knew what their views were. But when I dropped you off, as soon as that door shut behind you, we were no longer the only voices in your ear. Soon, you would have to start making your own choices about whose voice to listen to. We could no longer hear everything you were being taught, and it scared me, so I cried. “

“You seemed fine when you picked me up,” I said, “I don’t remember you being any different. What changed?”

“While I was crying, I was praying, too,” she added. “I didn’t really know what else to do. But then I felt like God was telling me, ‘It’s ok, Leonia. He’s not really yours anyway. He’s mine, and he’s always been mine, and I’ve still got him, I’m still watching him even when you can’t.’”

“Wow.” I said. And I meant it. “Was it like that every year?”

“It was never that bad again,” she said “It got easier with each grade, but every year, I always remembered that walk. It was the longest walk around the block that I ever took.”

My mom is so cool.

Dedication

This post goes out to all you parents as you send your kids off for their first day of school, whether it is for the first time, the second time, the eighth time, or the last time. The first day of school is probably one of the most emotionally jam-packed days of the year, for you AND for your kids. It runs the gamut of human emotions, from excitement to fear, from stress to relief, from sadness to joy, and back again. My prayers are with you and your kids on this unique day. Enjoy it, and remember no matter what, God’s hands are still on you, AND your kids. Just don’t forget to take ‘em out for milkshakes afterward. 

Jesus Wants To Save Superman

“That Jesus guy, is he some kind of superhero or something?” asked the tousle-haired boy. He was in third grade, new to church, and by the content of his constant stream of interrupting questions throughout my lesson, I could tell he was unfamiliar with the stories of Jesus. A superhero? My post-conservative gut reaction was to tell him “no.” Because Jesus isn't a superhero. Superheroes are mere fantasy. And Jesus is so much more. Don’t want the kid to be confused.

But before I spoke, an image probed my brain with a swift jab. I envisioned a crew aboard a ship, gripped by the terror of a life-threatening storm; their bodies soaked with rain and sea water, their eyes and hearts drenched in fear. No mere cabin boys, these rugged fishermen lived their entire lives by and on the sea. So their state of panic gave reason to believe that both this storm and this hour might be their last. But then, one of their passengers, a wise and mysterious figure, climbed to the deck from below. He narrowed his eyes, glaring fiercely through the rain at the destructive waves. In a gentle yet powerful voice, he uttered the words “Peace, be still,” and the churning waves were replaced by a sea of glass. The wind retreated without a whisper, as if scolded by its schoolmaster. With a simple phrase, the passenger had ended the storm. The crew, filled with relief and awe, looked sideways at each other, wondering who would be the first to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind: “who IS this guy?”

Superhero? Hmmm. Perhaps this outspoken little boy was closer to the truth than I thought. Perhaps he was on to something.

“Yeah, he’s a superhero,” I told him. “The best one there ever was, and the best one there will ever be. And do you want to know what the coolest part is? He’s real!”

“Awesome” he replied.

~~~~

I’ve been on a Smallville kick lately. And I’m prepping our fall lessons for KKids. It looks like the two have collided in my sleep-depraved thoughts. Over the years, I’ve arrived at the belief that when teaching young children about the Son of God, Jesus and the superhero metaphor go together like peanut butter and jelly.

Superpowers: Why Jesus is like a superhero

Any kid will tell you, what really makes a superhero “super” is his/her powers. For some reason, we humans (especially children) are innately attracted to (or baffled by) the idea of the supernatural. There’s an unspoken thrill to the idea that maybe there’s more to our world than just the “natural” that we can experience with our senses. It’s no wonder that children often pretend or desire to have the ability to fly, the power to wield the force, to use magic, to turn invisible, or even to walk on water. Superpowers are the embodiment of the supernatural, so superheroes and children are a perfect fit for each other.

For kids, the connections between Jesus' miracles and futuristic “superpowers” are unmistakable, because many children readily believe in the supernatural. When you tell them that Jesus walked on water, they get it. When you tell them that he fed 5000 people with a bible-time equivalent of a Lunchable, they can see it. When you tell them that he brought back stinky Lazarus from death, they don’t raise an eyebrow, but instead break into a wide-eyed smile. Kids believe that Jesus did everything that was written…and more. And they love him for it. Why? Because miracles are just a part of life for kids. Some of the best prayer warriors I’ve known have been children, because they’re not afraid to ask for and believe in the impossible. It’s no wonder that Jesus said that everyone needs the faith of a child.

Sacrifice: Why Jesus is better than a superhero

If what makes superheroes super is their powers, then what makes them "heroes" (and loved by children everywhere) is their ability to save. Simply put, superheroes save people. That’s what makes them heroes. If they don't use their powers to save people, then they’re not heroes. In the movie Spiderman, Peter Parker’s choice to keep his web-slinging abilities to himself resulted in the loss of someone he loved. He was not yet a hero. On the other hand, if a superhero uses their powers for selfish gain, they become supervillains. True heroes take the powers they have, and use them to save and protect the people around them.

Well, who better to exemplify the whole “saving people” theme than Jesus? Because he set out to save the world in a way that no one ever could. He didn’t JUST go from place to place fixing people and getting them out of binds (which he DID do, by the way). And his sights weren’t set on one city. He was determined to set all of humanity free from the invisible, previously indestructible bonds of sin and death. Let me see you slice through THOSE chains, Wolverine. ;-)

But Michael, you can’t compare Jesus to a superhero!

Well… In the Bible, Jesus was compared (and even compared himself) to many things: a vine, a rock, a temple, a shepherd, water, bread, a rabbi, etc. But do we really think of Jesus as being a lovely fern? Of course not. He was using an illustration. We know that. Why did he use so many illustrations? Because we RELATE to them. Now, as citizens of a post-agricultural society, we may not fully grasp the whole shepherd illustration, but we still know what a tree is. And we know what bread is. And we know what water is. That's the beauty of using more than one illustration. The only problems arise when we take an illustration to an extreme and forget its metaphoric roots.

Do today’s kids RELATE to superheroes? If you’re unsure of the answer to this question, you need only poke your head into any local kids’ ministry (well, one that doesn’t have a dress code), and take a quick peek around the room to see just how many kids are donning some form of superhero/idol ware. Of COURSE they do. And if it’s something they RELATE to, I wouldn’t be so quick to discredit the idea.

But Michael, if you teach kids that Jesus is like a superhero, then won’t the kids equate Jesus with a fairy tale?

That, my friend, depends on the delivery. There is a rockin’ song we sing in our kids’ program called “Jesus is my Superhero,” which says that Jesus is “better than (insert spandex-clad hero here).”  One thing I do before singing the song with the kiddos is remind them that Jesus is the BEST superhero because A) he’s the only one that’s real, and B) he saves us in a way no other superhero could. Problem solved.

Kids love superheroes.

I don’t know of anyone who had to teach a kid how to love a superhero.

So if you can show a kid how Jesus is the BEST (and the only real) superhero, you just might have found a way to better help a kid fall in love with Jesus.

Beyond The Ink

"Wow Michael, that's a nice dinosaur!"

"It's a cat, mom..."

I really enjoyed connect-the-dots as a young boy. You know, that famous art form loved by preschoolers and Scantron-takers alike. I remember that when I’d get a fresh picture, there were all these dots everywhere; some numbered, some not. At first glance, the mess of dots didn’t seem to make much sense. Some of them were jumbled close together, and others were misfit dots that I was unsure would ever fit in the picture.

After staring at the mystery pattern for as long as my preschool attention span would allow (which my family and former Sunday school teachers will eagerly testify wasn’t very long), I’d awkwardly pick up my pencil in my right hand (mom was a lefty, so I always held it crookedly), touch the tip to the first dot, and begin tracing a line between the dots. Soon, an image would emerge. By the time the lead of my off-brand No. 2 pencil had found its way to the end, every single dot had been pulled together to make a nice picture, even the ones that originally seemed like they didn’t quite belong. Whenever I finished, I always felt like a natural Michelangelo, that one painter that was named after my favorite pizza-loving ninja turtle (“Cowabunga, dude!”).  

Sometimes I think life can feel a little bit like a giant connect-the-dot picture.  There are all these quirks, abilities, strengths, passions, events, weaknesses, hardships, and even pains that we have and experience, and they’re everywhere. Kind of like those dots.  

Some of them are numbered. They’re safe, enjoyable, and maybe even a bit predictable. We can see where they fit. But some of them are not numbered. They’re confusing, sometimes difficult, and might even catch us off guard. And then there are all those misfit dots. They’re so far out there that we’re not sure how they fit into the picture, and often wonder if they’re just accidental ink drops or even cruel jokes by a sadistic editor.

But I believe there’s an Artist who sees how the dots should fit, even when we don’t. He knows what every ability might be, which strengths are hiding behind which weaknesses, and how every event could matter, even the misfit ones. He sees the beautiful masterpiece that’s there beyond the ink and space, just waiting to be drawn into view over time if we’re willing to hand Him the pencil.