When the Menu is Manna

She walked into my classroom at the beginning of the school year with a "don't try to patronize me attitude that was written across her chubby little face." There was a bit of aloof strolling in her step and some deliberate swinging of her less-than-neatly braided pigtails that were nothing short of a mess. I took a deep breath and thought, "I've got my work cut out for me with this one!" It wasn't the first time I had been entrusted with a gift that carried so many hurt disappointments and scars that the resolve was not to let anyone get remotely close to them. Yet even though this was not the first time I had encountered a child like this, each time, it seemed like the first time. How would I reach her? How would I get through to show her potential and, even more so, her worth? The thought of the work this would require making even the tiniest entrance into this child's heart was almost overwhelming. Her hardened emotional shell would be tough to c...

    When the Menu is Manna   today it's from the heart...       Small Things   It occurred to me this morning there is more than meets the eye or reaches the ear to be said about the saying, "God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good." I've heard this my entire life, and quite frankly, at times, even though my heart accepts this, my mind wrestles with it. I'm caught between treating God as a Genie in a bottle because I know He can do everything, so why not rub the lamp with a few chanting words and "Poof," watch it all fall into place. I don't recommend this. It's not biblical, for starters, and therefore, it will not be highly successful.  There are times when I've taken the Genie in the Bottle approach, hoping for immediate miracles. Then there are times when I've adopted the Tortoise and the Hare approach, believing that God will come through if I am steady in my faith long enough. While the former is clearly not the way ...

  A s a child, I never liked the game of chase. Because others did, I played it, but I never liked it. There was something futile about running around in circles only to be conquered by a tap if I was lucky or hurled to the ground if my opponent was overly zealous. If that was not enough, I knew it would be my turn to do the same to someone else when conquered. For someone who valued personal space, such aggressive, direct contact in the chase game made me apprehensive, stressed, and not fun in my books. One of the all-time greatest games of chase occurred in the Old Testament book of Exodus. God hand-picked Moses, a man of few words and most likely a nonchase player, to lead the children of Israel out of their bondage in Egypt. It was not a task that was to be easily accomplished, for Pharaoh promised and refused to do that many times over, so God sent vile plagues upon the land until the Pharaoh could no longer stand the consequences. The horrific happenings hit a little too clos...

                                           A large, beautiful tapestry hung in the long hallway of the house where I grew up. My parents purchased it while living in Berlin, Germany, as my dad took his turn serving our country in the United States Army in the 1960s. The front side of this work of art was a stunning scene of deer standing among snowy trees in the darkness. I thought it was beautiful. As a child, when no one was looking, I loved to run my fingers over the tapestry, feel the velvety threads, and see how the sheen of the nap changed depending on how I brushed the surface. Also, very curious about the backside of the wall hanging, one day, after getting up enough courage to loosen a corner, I glanced at the underside of the tapestry. I was amazed to find a smooth back with no stray threads and somewhat of the same image the front side bore, just a little duller in co...

  ' S ticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!' While serving as a primary teacher for many years, I often heard this chant coming from the mouths of disgruntled children when unkind words had become a problem either for them or to them.  I've thought about this sing-song phrase and the lack of times it actually stopped a playground or standing in line squabble which was virtually never. It's not the sticks and stones we need to fear but the power of our words. Suppose we can remember to pause, reflect, and choose our words carefully. In that case, we can extinguish the damage careless words cause and use our words for good.  Admittedly, I've  not  only been on the receiving end of hurtful words, but I've also been the one to wield them. In moments of stress, these words slip out, leaving me with a deep sense of regret. I yearn for the discipline to consistently recognize the power of my words and to choose them more mindfully. The scri...