Recently Judah joined big brother Silas for his first overnight with grandma and granddad.  Like his big brother, as soon as his feet hit the cool green grass, he fell in love with going barefoot and ran all over the place.  Since he usually ran me into the ground, I decided that first morning that he could handle walking Chloe with me.  I would have to slow our pace for him, but I was sure his active little legs could handle the distance.

             The boys and I started out ahead and then I called Chloe to follow.  Usually she is out front waiting for me, prancing impatiently, but Chloe is not your average dog.  She is a bit of an oxymoron—a scaredy-cat of a dog.  She is positive that everything on two feet is out to get her.  She is not afraid of us, nor of Lucas, but no one else can get near her.  Not even, as it turns out, a twenty-month old toddler.

              But that didn’t keep the toddler from trying.  As soon as he saw Chloe, Judah left the path along the fence and headed through the field toward her.  As soon as Chloe saw Judah, she took off running.  He sped up and I held my breath as he plowed through vines, briars, blackberries and stinging nettles.  I took off after him, sure that his soft baby skin would be scratched, torn, and bloody.  He single-mindedly waded on through, leaving a trail of bent and broken greenery behind, until finally I caught up and scooped him into my arms.  With his mind still on his goal, he pointed toward Chloe and said, “Dog.  Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wuhf!”

              I checked him over and he was fine, not a mark on him, no blood, no rashes, no stickers poking out of tender little fingers or toes.  So I put him down, this time on the garden path, and called Chloe to resume our walk--and it started all over again.  Judah chased, Chloe ran, and I followed.  This wasn’t going to work.   Finally I got the garden wagon, put Judah in it, and Chloe followed behind at what she deemed a safe distance--about thirty feet.  But every time Judah’s head swiveled to her and his little finger pointed, she veered from the path and dropped back another foot or two, until reassured that the dangerous little predator wouldn’t come swooping in and nab her unexpectedly.

              We had gone out that morning to walk Chloe.  Judah certainly didn’t have the goal in mind when we went for that walk.  That’s why he couldn’t stay on the path.  I realized not long afterward, though, that he did have a goal in mind.  It was just not the same goal as mine.  I wanted to walk the dog.  He wanted to experience the dog. 

              I think too many times we live our lives aimlessly.  We just let it happen, and then wonder why things went south.  We have no plan for improvement, no strategy for overcoming—we don’t even notice the temptation coming!  I found dozens of verses using the words aim, goal, and purpose.  I found others listing the things we should be looking for or to or toward.  Do you really think God has no purpose for you?

              I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. Psa 57:2. 

              ​The LORD has made everything for its purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble. Prov 16:4.

              If God has a purpose for the evil people in the world, then certainly He has one for His children.  So if He has a purpose for us, shouldn’t we be acting with purpose?  We are familiar with the concept of “purposing” our contributions, but why do you assemble where you do?  To be entertained?  Because this group is loving and makes me feel good?  Because I like the singing?  I know a lot of people who assemble with those goals in mind.  How about these instead:  I assemble here to serve others, even if they don’t serve me; I am here to learn and be admonished, even if they do step on my toes; I am here to participate in those acts we are to do as an “assembly” even if I don’t particularly care for the method used in getting that done.  Do you see?  When I have this sort of purpose, it stops being all about ME.

              Why do you work for a living?  Do you know the reason Paul gives?  “So you may have something to share with anyone in need.”  Eph 4:28.  Is that why you work?  I bet it’s not why your neighbor works.  And here we get to the point.  Judah and I did not share goals that morning, so we did not share paths either.  Are you sharing your neighbor’s path, or are you on a better one?  You ought to be.

              The world may look at how you live and shake its head.  There you go trudging through tall grass, sharp thorns, and clinging vines when the path they are taking is so much easier.  Paul had given up the goal of status among the Jewish leaders, along with potential wealth and fame.  “But whatever gain I had I counted as loss for the sake of Christ,” he said.  His goal in life had changed and so his path had as well.  I am sure his former colleagues and teachers looked with disbelief on the things he left behind and the causes he took up.  “But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3:7,13,14, just like that little toddler pressed on that morning.

              What is your goal?  You should have one every day, not just on Sundays, although that would be a good start for a lot of people.  Maybe the first thing you should do is look around and see who is on the same path you are.  That might give you pause to consider.
 
He exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, Acts 11:23.
 
Dene Ward

Both of my grandsons loved the peek-a-boo game.  It didn't matter if I hid my face or their faces, smiles and laughter instantly ensued.  Judah especially disliked having his diapers changed, but I found out if I held his little feet up in front of my face and crooned, "Where's Grandma?" he would lie there perfectly content while I changed that diaper, moving his own little feet together and apart while we played the game.

              We all understand that a child's perspective is skewed by his inability to recognize any other perspective than his—in the peek-a-boo game, for instance, he thinks that if he cannot see you, then you cannot see him.  One mark of maturity is realizing that what someone else sees and hears in your words and actions is not necessarily what you intended, and that his own actions are largely dependent upon things in his life you may never have experienced.  Perspective is huge for a Christian.

              Paul told the Romans they needed to have the proper perspective about things in this life, or, as he might have called it, the proper mindset.  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. (Rom 8:5).  Here he divides it into having a spiritual mindset or a fleshly mindset.

              He goes on to say:  For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.  For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot.  Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. (Rom 8:6-8).

          So let's make this easier to see by setting the two mindsets in opposition.  If you are a visual learner like I am, grab a sheet of paper and create two columns—the mind of the flesh on one side and the mind of the spirit on the other, as we go through those verses again.  Some of these things do not have an expressed opposite, but it is easy to see what that opposite should be.

              The mind of the flesh is death while the mind of the spirit is life and peace.  The mind of the flesh is hostile to God, so it makes sense that the mind of the spirit is friendly to God.  The mind of the flesh cannot submit, but the mind of the spirit will.  The mind of the flesh cannot please God, but the mind of the spirit will please him.  All of that is easy to see when you chart it out.

              So how do we go about telling which mind we have?  By the things that matter most to us.  Is it wealth, status, money, power, a life of ease and luxury?  Moses was willing to give up all those things.  By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.  He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. (Heb 11:24-26)  This perfectly matches the "chart" in the previous paragraph.  Could I do that?  Could you?

              Let's just say this.  When the majority of my complaints about the church are the uncomfortable seats, the warm building, and the long sermons, then maybe my mindset is on the flesh, not the spirit.

              What would you be willing to give up for the Lord?  That doesn't just mean the big stuff, like your life.  That means the little things too—time for personal Bible study, prayer, and visiting; actually deciding to throw your favorite skirt out because you have come to realize it is too short for a godly woman to be wearing; missing a ball game because your neighbor is in distress and this might be an opportunity to reach him with the gospel.

              And what sort of difficult things would someone with a fleshly mindset find impossible to give up?  The praise of men; the humility of apology; being "right" in something that doesn't really matter; acceptance in the community; a good-paying job; an ungodly sexual relationship, just to name a few, and all with the reasoning, "God wouldn't want me to be unhappy."

              It's easy to play peek-a-boo like a child, thinking everything is about me and my pleasure.  But sooner or later we need to grow up.  The proper mindset will show me the true pleasure in serving God and looking to the good of others.  If I never learn that, I will always be nothing more than a baby with a blanket over my face, always blind to the truth of my situation and never able to fix it.
 
For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. (Gal 6:8)
 
Dene Ward

Judah began noticing the birds at my bird feeders before he was two years old.  When he came to visit, he loved to sit in my lap by the window and point.  "Look at the buhds," he would say, in a voice reminiscent of his daddy at that age.  "A red one!  See?  And a blue one!"
 
             Before long he finally saw the hummingbird feeder hanging outside the dining room window.  He loved to watch the "little buhds" while he ate.

              Then one time when they were staying with us while mom and dad were out of town, Keith told him the little birds were eating just like he was, that they stuck their noses in the hole of the feeder and used them like a straw to suck up the nectar.  Oops!  Not a minute later, this ingenious little 20 month old was trying to maneuver his nose over the straw of his juice cup and suck it up just like a hummingbird.  Quickly we explained that people can't do that because it would not go into their tummies like it does for the "little birds."  He seemed skeptical, but he stopped trying.

              The next day we came to the table right after watching the cardinals peck up bird seed from the trough at my other window.  Once again the hummingbirds flew in for dinner while we ate.  Judah sat and thought a minute then said, "Red birds don't have long noses.  They eat like this," and he bent over and banged his little mouth against the wooden table trying to peck.  That time he stopped himself, holding his little hand against his red lip.  I looked closely.  It wasn't bleeding but he had a fat lip for a day or two.

              Children will mimic anyone and, it seems, anything.  Even birds.  Which is why it is important to be so careful around them.  Silas at three was parroting (pun intended) me and his Granddad.  Not that we were using bad language, but it just startles you so to hear it and realize that you use certain words and phrases often enough for them to pick up on.

              And not just your words, or even your actions.  Children will also pick up your attitudes—about people, about life, about God, about your brothers and sisters in the faith, about sin and evil in the world--about other drivers!  That means we must be vigilant as parents, grandparents, and teachers of children in any capacity, because we can also teach them what is right and good.

              A few years ago, Mona Charen wrote an article about a study by the National Institutes of Health examining children who experienced all sorts of care—large institutional day care, nursery schools, relative care, nannies, dads, and stay-at-home moms.  The findings were not well received by the feminists.  "Children who spent significant amounts of time in care with people other than their own mothers were three times as likely as home-reared children to be aggressive, defiant, impatient, and attention-demanding…The effects really begin to kick in when a child spends more than 30 hours a week in alternative care."

              And do you know why that is?  Because children in daycare are mimicking other children.  Children at home are mimicking adults who, we hope, are mature and exhibit all the qualities you eventually want your child to have.

              If you want your children to grow up to be godly, kind, merciful servants of God who know his Word, make sure that is what you are.  Whether you like it or not, he will do exactly what you show him how to do.
 
So these nations feared the LORD and also served their carved images. Their children did likewise, and their children's children—as their fathers did, so they do to this day. (2Kgs 17:41)
 
Dene Ward

My grandsons love playing in the park.  Their city yard is postage stamp small without room for two active boys to run around much, so they enjoy a place with swings, slides, jungle gyms and seesaws. 
 
             Seesaws may be fun at the playground, but they are not God’s idea of ideal service.  Yes, we may falter once in awhile.  Many passages speak of faith in flux, but as we mature in that faith, the flux should become smaller and smaller.  David speaks of the opposite of a seesaw faith, even when he is running for his life in Psalm 57:7.  “My heart is steadfast, O God,” or, in several other versions, “My heart is fixed.”  In a time of fear when others would have wavered, David is able to keep his faith in God steady. 

              So the question is, how do we avoid the seesaws in life?  First, let’s make it clear—you can’t avoid the park altogether.  I hear people talking about life as if it is always supposed to be fun, always easy, and always good, and something is wrong when anything bad happens.  Nonsense.  We live on an earth that has been cursed because of man’s sin.  When God curses something, he does a bang-up job of it.  To think we would still be living in something resembling Eden is ridiculous. 

              We are all dying from the moment we are born.  Some of us just manage to hang on longer than others.  Some of us catch diseases because they are out there due to sin and Satan.  Some of us are injured.  Some of us have disabilities.  Some of us are never able to lead a normal life.  It has nothing to do with God being mean, or not loving us, or not paying attention to us one way or the other, and everything to do with being alive.  Everyone receives bad news once in awhile—it isn’t out of the ordinary.  Everyone experiences moments of fear and doubt.  We all go through trials.  But just because you are in the park, doesn’t mean you have to get on the seesaw.

              We must have a steadfast faith no matter what happens to us.  “The Lord is faithful; He will establish you…” 2 Thes 3:3.  Our hearts can be “established by grace,” Heb 13:9.  But those things are nebulous, nothing we can really lay our hands on in our daily struggles.  Am I supposed to just think real hard about God and grace and somehow get stronger?  Yes, it will help, but God knows we are tethered to this life through tangible things and He gives us plenty of that sort of help as well, help we sometimes do not want to recognize because of the responsibility it places upon us to act. 

              We must be willing to be guided to that steadfastness by faithful leaders, 2 Thes 3:3-5.  We must be willing to obey God’s law, James 1:22-24, and live a life of righteousness, Psa 112:6, before steadfastness makes an appearance.  We must become a part of God’s people and associate with them as much as possible, Heb 10:19-25.  We must study the lives of those who have gone before and imitate their steadfastness, laying aside sin if we hope to endure as they did, Heb 12:1-2.  Every one of those things will keep us off the seesaw.

              Yeah, right, the world says--to change one’s life and become part of God’s people, the church—for some reason those are the very things they will laugh to scorn.  And we fall for what they preach--a Jesus who “loves me as I am” without demanding any change, and divides His body from His being, labeling it a manmade placeholder for the true kingdom to come.  “I can have a relationship with God without having a relationship with anyone else,” we say, and promptly climb aboard the seesaw, Satan laughing gleefully at us from the other end.  Guess what?  That’s who we are having a relationship with.

              Get off the seesaw now before he has you sitting so high up on it, your legs dangling beneath you, that you are unable to reach the grounding your faith needs.  You may still have moments of weakness and doubt, but those things will grow less and less if you make use of the help God has given you.  You can have a steadfast faith, even if it finds you hiding in a cave from your enemies.  “My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast…For your steadfast love is great to the heavens; your faithfulness to the clouds.”  Psa 57:7,10
 
Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58.
 
Dene Ward

Over the past several months I have shared some things with you that I did when I was still able to teach children's Bible classes.  The Museum of the Old Testament, the David Game, the Return of the Stick Man parts 1 and 2 (a method for teaching memory verses to very young nonreaders), and the Memory Verse Relay Races can be found with just a little scrolling and clicking on the right sidebar under Children and/or Bible Study.  Today I want to share yet another game I came up with.
 
            The People, Places, and Things Game helps the students remember important people and events and where they took place as you go through a quarter of lessons—or any other type of series for that matter.  However, you must have been through at least 5 or 6 lessons before you can begin.

              On card stock cut into 3 x 4 rectangles—or just on plain index cards—write the people, places, and things from each lesson that you want the children to remember.  Create 2 sets of cards written in two different colors, for example, a red set and a blue set.  When you have at least 20 cards each, divide the class into two teams and line them up on opposite sides of the room.  At the front of the class place 3 chairs, one labelled "People", one "Places", and one "Things".       

             For this game you will need two teachers, one standing by each team.  (It helps if someone has a stopwatch.)  When one adult calls "Go," the teachers hand the first one in each line a card, and the students must place it in the correct chair.  The teacher cannot hand the next card out until the first student has returned.  This continues, but at 15 second intervals, a teacher calls, "Stop!"  Whatever card the student from each team is holding must be identified in detail in the context of the lessons being studied.  David might be identified as the one who killed Goliath or the King of Israel, depending upon which section of scripture you are studying. The Jordan River might be what the people of Israel crossed or where Jesus was baptized, but it must match what is being taught.
 
          If the card is identified correctly it goes in the correct chair and the student goes to the end of the line.  If it is not identified correctly it goes back in the pile the teacher is holding and the student returns to the end of the line.  One teacher calls out "Go" again and play resumes until the next "Stop" is called.  When one team runs out of cards, the game is over.  Then the teachers check the cards in the chairs and count how many are in the correct chair for each team (hence the different color print for each team).  While the team that ran out of cards first has the edge, they could still lose if they have placed cards in the wrong chair.  Now it is time to sit the students down and go over the misses so they will do better the next week, especially since you will be adding more cards each week.

             I hope that is not too confusing.  If you don't quite get it, just use the idea and make up your own game.  For some reason these things come easily to me, and I imagine you can develop the same skill because I am far from brilliant. 

            And, yes, in case you are wondering, sometimes I get dinged for too much "playing" in my classes, but I would have put my students against any other class out there (especially the three year olds who can quote a dozen memory verses from a simple line drawing).  They learn these things quickly and easily when it's a little more exciting and a lot less boring.
 
“Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children—how on the day that you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, the LORD said to me, ‘Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so.’ (Deut 4:9-10)
 
Dene Ward

Keith had major surgery a couple of springs ago and because of his profound deafness I was with him in the hospital as caregiver 24/7.  We don’t do real sign language, but it is easier for me to communicate with him after 45 years of gradually adapting to his increasing disability.  People who are not used to it simply do not know how, and reading lips is not the easy fix to the problem that most think.
              Unfortunately, this hospital stay coincided with the garden harvest.  The beans, squash, and cucumbers had already begun coming in.  While we were away that week, those vegetables continued to grow.  When we got home, the beans were a lost cause--thick, tough, stringy and totally inedible.  The squash looked like a brass band had marched through, discarding their bright yellow tubas beneath the large green leaves, and the cucumbers as if a blimp had flown over in labor and dropped a litter.  If we expected the plants to continue to produce, I had to pull those huge gourds.  That first morning home I picked and dumped 8 buckets full.
              Gardens are taskmasters.  They don’t stop when it doesn’t suit your schedule.  They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.  Every morning in late May and early June I go out to see what the day holds for me.  Will I be putting up beans or corn or tomatoes?  Will we have okra for supper or do I need to pickle it?  Are the jalapenos ready for this year’s salsa?  Are the bell peppers big enough to stuff or do I need to chop some for the freezer?  Do I need to make pesto before the basil completely seeds out? 
              And then you look for other problems.  Has blight struck the tomatoes?  Do the vining plants have a fungus?  Have the monarch butterflies laid their progeny on the parsley plants?  Have the cutworms attacked the peppers?  Has the ground developed a bacteria that is killing off half the garden almost overnight?  Do things just need watering?
              Childrearing can be the same way.  Children don’t stop growing until it suits your schedule. They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.
              God expects you to carefully watch those small plants.  He expects you to check for problems before they kill the plants, and nip them in the bud.  It is perfectly normal for a toddler to be self-centered, but somewhere along the way you must teach him consideration for others.  Are you watching for ways to overcome his innate selfishness and teach him to share? Do you have a plan to teach him generosity?  It won’t happen by itself--you have to do it.
              Are you examining your children every day for those little diseases—stubbornness, a hot temper, whining, disrespect, or the other side of the “leaf”—inordinate shyness, self-deprecation, pessimism.  God expects you to look for problems from the beginning and try to fix them so your child will grow into a happy, well-adjusted adult, able to serve Him without the baggage of character flaws that should have been caught when he was very small.  Parents who ignore these things, thinking they will somehow go away when he grows up, are failing in their duties as gardeners of God’s young souls.  Those things will not disappear on their own any more than nematodes and mole crickets will.
              He also expects you to make clear-eyed judgments.  He may be your precious little cutie-pie, but you need to take off your tinted glasses and take a good look at him.  If you ignore his problems because you are too smitten to see them, you do not love your child as much as you claim.  Whoever spares the rod, hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him, Prov 13:24.  When I ignore the blight in my garden, it’s because saving the garden isn’t important to me.
              Have you and your spouse ever just sat and watched your children play?  Have you ever given any thought at all to the things you might need to correct in them?  If your schedule is too busy for that, then you are too busy.  Period.  Your children will keep right on growing, and without your attentive care they may rot on the vine. 
              You are a steward of God’s garden.  The most important thing you can do today is take care of it.
 
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table… Psalms 128:3.
 
Dene Ward

My largest flower bed, a couple of hundred square feet, is about 75% volunteers.  Every year I plant a couple of new things, but by and large the plot reseeds itself with black-eyed Susans, zinnias, marigolds, and Mexican petunias.  Instead of planned formality it becomes a riot of color—orange, red, rust, pink, burgundy, purple, white, and tons of yellow.  About the first of June it is at its best, and has even been featured in the photos of friends and family.

              The black-eyed Susans have a way of coming up just about anywhere—in the field, in the yard, up by the gate, around the bird feeders.  I never know where one will shoot up during any given spring. A shallow ditch runs along the west side of my large riotous flower bed.  This year that ditch was full of black-eyed Susans—even more than in the bed.

              As the spring progressed, that ditch also became full of weeds and grass.  I spent over an hour one morning cleaning it out.  Along with it went some of those pretty, brown-centered, yellow flowers.  I thought about it long and hard, but I knew this:  those weeds would just get more and more entrenched and eventually choke out the flowers anyway.  And even if they didn’t, the flowers would just call attention to the tall grass around them, and all anyone would think would be, “Ugh.”  So I transplanted what I could back into the bed, hoping they would survive the rough treatment of having grass roots pulled out from among their own, and then just chopped out the rest along with all the weeds.  It’s not like I didn’t have a plethora of them anyway.  They are all over the property.

              Which brings me to this:  what we often think of as beauty can be completely overwhelmed by ugliness.  Why can’t our young men see that a beautiful young girl is anything but beautiful when she acts like a trollop and dresses like a harlot?  Why can’t a young woman see that a handsome young man spoils those good looks with the filthy words that come out of his mouth and the intemperate behavior of a drunk, or a lecher, or anything else he allows to control his life?  Why don’t they understand that if they are only attracted by outward beauty, their values are as shallow as a drop of water on a hot griddle, and just as likely to evaporate?  Maybe because we haven’t taught them any better.

              Many years ago I stood in the receiving line at a wedding and heard a few feet away a woman who claimed to be a Christian saying, “He’s such a good looking young man.  It’s a shame he couldn’t find someone prettier.”  Never mind the young bride in question had a beautiful and loving character, she wasn’t pretty enough on the outside.

              I have heard women getting excited over a new dress or a new pair of shoes and then bored about a conversion.  I have seen men eagerly discussing cars or guns or sports, and turning away in apathy at a spiritual discussion.  I have seen people happy to discuss their misfortunes to anyone who will listen, while ignoring their blessings.  Do you think our children don’t see these examples?

              We teach them what to care most about, and they follow our examples all through their lives.  If I want my child to develop a deep relationship with God, then it’s time I had one myself.

              Tell your children what true beauty is, and then show them.  Make yourself beautiful with your good works, with your kind demeanor, with your loving spirit.  If you don’t, they may never learn what constitutes true beauty until they are mired in a horrible relationship that eventually ruins their lives.  The flowers in the ditch may be beautiful, but is that really where you want them to spend their lives?
             
Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman with no discretion, Prov 11:22.
 
Dene Ward

If you have followed this blog for any time at all, you know that I have come up with a memory verse method for preschoolers using cards with rebuses and smaller cards with only a picture or two from the rebus after the verse has been memorized.  Parents are constantly amazed by the amount their children can memorize.  (See the gallery for pictures of these and the two posts, The Return of the Stick Man, parts 1 and 2 in the archives on the right sidebar on July 10 and 11, 2017.)

You also know that I use games in my Bible classes, games I make from scratch.  (See the David Game in the same archives on July 12, 2017.)  In the grade school classes where all the children can now read, I put those two ideas together and make a Memory Verse Relay Race.  Tell your students about it during the first class.  You cannot start the game if they have not had at least four or five lessons with accompanying memory verses and this gives them motivation for keeping up with their lessons and memorizing those verses.

This is a simple concept and involves no artistic talent at all.  Write out the memory verses on two one-inch-wide strips of construction paper with a heavy marker.  Cut the verse into four or five phrases.  Mix up the strips of paper and paper clip each verse together to keep it separate from others.  Use a different color of pastel construction paper for each verse.  Make two copies of each verse and keep each pile separate as well.

You must have two adults in the room who also know the verses, and it is easier if the students are sitting at a long table, one team on each side, but I am sure you can come up with other configurations with just a little thought.

To start the race, the student on the near end chooses a clipped together verse from the pile next to him.  He puts the verse strips in the correct order, then raises his hand so the adult on his side of the table can check it.  When she gives the OK, he must mix it up, clip it back together and pass it on to the next student before grabbing another.  Now you have two students putting verses together.  When a hand is raised, check the verse. If it is correct, that student will also mix it up, clip it and pass it on.  Once you have three or four verses going you have to be on the ball about checking.  If a student's verse is not in the correct order, tell him so and let him try again.  After three tries, pass it on.  (You can come up with a penalty if you want, but actually I never had it come to this point.  Sooner or later, the student got it right.)

Meanwhile, the same thing is happening on the other side of the table.  It should be obvious why you need two adults for this to work.  The team that finishes all the verses first, passing verses instead of batons all the way to the other end of the table, wins.  As the quarter continues, you will add more verses until by the end, you have thirteen.  All my students loved this game, and I bet a lot of them still remember those verses.

This is exactly how simple making up games can be.  As long as they reinforce learning the scripture, there is nothing wrong with a little fun in Bible classes.
 
“And as for me, this is my covenant with them,” says the LORD: “My Spirit that is upon you, and my words that I have put in your mouth, shall not depart out of your mouth, or out of the mouth of your offspring, or out of the mouth of your children's offspring,” says the LORD, “from this time forth and forevermore.” (Isa 59:21)
 
Dene Ward

I am sitting here on the back porch of my children's new home, less than ten miles from the place I spent most of my remembered childhood.  Funny how the memories come flooding back.
 
             The sun seems much brighter here than in north central Florida, where I have spent the majority of my married life.  This may be only 120 miles further south toward the tropics, but I can barely stand to even look out the window without sunglasses on down here.  I remember that bright sun reflecting off the pavement wherever we went.  It almost made you wish for black tar roads—until you tried stepping on those barefoot and came away with something much worse than a sunburn.

              The spring breezes down here are cool and pleasant, but without that underlying chill that demands a sweater at the ready just that little bit further north.  We reveled in those almost perfect days when I was young because all too soon they were gone. 

           The summer heat is still that brutal slam when you step outside, but even so much closer to the coast here in Tampa, the humidity is less than that smothering blanket in the northern interior.  I don't ever recall having to deal with pouring sweat at 8 am.  As a child, I never felt like I might drown if I took too deep a breath!

              And the clockwork arrival of a summer afternoon thunderstorm every day, usually at 4:00.  Gray clouds nearly as dark as night, lightning streaking across the sky, thunder like an explosion, winds that increased 20 or 30 mph and temperatures that dropped twenty degrees in mere minutes, followed by a deluge that had traffic pulling off the road to wait it out, and those unfortunate souls caught outside, drenched in only a few seconds.

              I remember all these things from a childhood of walking three blocks to and from the bus stop, standing outside the locked school doors waiting after the bus had dropped us off and returned for a second route, raking up lawn clippings after my daddy mowed the yard, and swimming at a friend's "lake house."  The feel of this place hasn't changed a bit.

              But the details?  The traffic is thicker and louder.  The outlying areas, including the trailer park where we spent our first year of marriage five miles "out of town," are more densely populated and congested.  What used to be pastureland or strawberry and tomato farms is now subdivision after subdivision, "walled off" from the highway by a white board fence.  As Thomas Wolfe said, "You can't go home again," but really, you can, if your memories are strong, if you can sit still and think and feel all those things from so long ago.  That part hasn't changed a bit.

              I find myself remembering my early years more and more lately.  As good friends, some older but some exactly my age, pass on, those memories wake you up to what is really important.  Now I can look back and realize that I had a great childhood. 

             No, it wasn't perfect.  No, my parents did not do everything exactly right.  Neither did I as a parent.  But I am so grateful to them for teaching me right from wrong and respect for authority, for demanding I take responsibility for the things I said and did, for showing me how to keep on working until the task is done, for refusing to give in to pain, belittling comments from worldly acquaintances, and debilitating disease, but to keep on plugging for the Lord as long as you can draw a breath. 

            I am grateful that they made me go to church, do my homework, and even brush my teeth and clean my room.  I love that they taught me to treat honesty as a lifestyle instead of a sometime convenience, and that I learned from them how to manage both my time and my money.  I am grateful that I saw them respect others' opinions rather than running them down for doing things differently than they did and that they never thought the rules, even the unspoken ones, were for everyone else.  I was more than blessed in the age and place I grew up in to have parents who taught me to be color blind and to glorify God whenever an opportunity came to teach and/or help those who were different from us, and for showing me the examples of kindness and generosity, especially to the innocent and needy.  And most of all, I am indebted to them for raising me to be a God-fearing, obedient servant of the Lord.  I hate to think what my life would be like otherwise.

              And then—what my children's lives would be like otherwise, and my grandchildren's.  Don't ever think that what you view as a dull, routine life did not matter.  Your children and your grandchildren and, should you live that long, your great-grandchildren will carry the memories you helped them make.  It is gratifying that my grandchildren will have memories a whole lot like mine, based not only on where they live, but how they live. 

            And it all started generations before them with simple people struggling through as best they could and, we hope, will continue on for generations to come.
 
As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.  But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:15-18)

Dene Ward

It happened at a small country church nearly forty years ago, but it made enough of an impression that I was asked to talk about it here, and perhaps inspire a few Bible class teachers of this era.

              Acres of farmland surrounded the white concrete block meetinghouse which sat behind the church cemetery.  Woods to the east and a few live oaks dripping Spanish moss around the building were the only trees on this rolling green landscape.  The farmer who owned the surrounding land alternated each year between corn and pasture, so it wasn't uncommon on the alternate years for cows to add their lowing to the congregation's hymns drifting out the windows.

              Although you would think no one lived within twenty miles in the unpopulated countryside, every Sunday 80 or 90 souls swarmed out of the woods and down the dirt lanes between sections.  Yet even with that many, children were scarce.  When we first arrived, there were only two Bible classes—one labeled "children" and the other "teens."  After a few months we had grown to over 120 on Sunday mornings and had added a third Bible class.  We now had "toddlers," "grade school," and "high school," but attendance in each was six or less and the grade school class age span ran from 7 to 13.

              Most of these children were woefully ignorant of even the basics—Adam and Eve, Noah, Daniel, and Jonah.  Together, Keith and I put together a teaching program designed to cover the Old Testament in 6 months before moving on to the New.  As you can imagine, we were whizzing through.  I needed some way to keep these narratives fresh in their minds week after week until they finally became entrenched.  That is how our "Museum of the Old Testament" came about.

              I explained to the children that as we learned about Old Testament events we would be designing and creating exhibits for a museum.  After six months, we would open our museum to the congregation and they would be the tour guides for our visitors.

              With a lack of money and a talent-challenged non-artist for a teacher (me), our exhibits were simple and crude.  What did we have?  I cannot even remember them all, but here are a few:

              A wall map.  Somehow, somewhere, I managed to find a map geared to children—bright primary colors, simple line boundaries, large bold print for places that covered the gamut from the Garden of Eden to Egypt to Canaan to Babylon.  This became our "tour map," giving people a quick overview of where they were going.  We also graced our walls with large arrows to direct traffic around the room in a one-way traffic pattern that made for smooth entry and exit without running into one another. 

              Stone tablets.  I managed to find two appropriately and similarly sized flat chunks of concrete on which we printed the Ten Commandments.  Somehow during the handling, a small corner broke off of one.  We just propped it where it went, but as we ran our tours six months later, I overheard one of our more creative students telling his tour group, "And this is where it broke when Moses got mad about the golden calf and threw them down on the ground."

              An Ark of the Covenant.  A kids' size shoebox with dowels through rings glued on the sides, cardboard "crown molding" and cherubim on the top, all spray-painted gold.  Inside we placed small replicas of the tablets, the pot of manna and Aaron's budding rod.

              A Judges' mobile.  The point in the book of Judges is not really the exciting stories—it's the continuing cycle as the people refused to learn from their history.  Se we created a mobile out of coat hangers, yarn, and construction paper.  Around the top ran the cycle in a circle:  SIN>>OPPRESSION>>REPENTANCE>>PEACE>>, and it hung so it turned constantly at any passage of air through the room.  Hanging from the circle on separate strings were paper man cut-outs with the names of the judges, Othniel through Samuel.

              The handwriting on the wall.  This was the easiest one of the bunch.  Put some art paper on the wall and have one of the students finger-paint MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN on it.  Then draw a large hand with a pointing finger and hang it by a stiff wire from the ceiling so that it touches the wall at one of the words.

              The Minor Prophets sheet game.  This one served as both a lesson activity and an exhibit.  Very few adults really know the Minor Prophets, so this was impressive to the parents.  I cut out about half of a full size sheet.  Then I wrote on it with a permanent marker the names of the Minor Prophets in a column on the left.  Across from that I wrote 18 things I had taught the children about those 12 prophets.  By the names of the prophets I sewed on a length (or 2 in some cases) of yarn.  By the identifying phrases I sewed a button.  The point of the game was to match the prophet to his identifier by wrapping his piece of yarn around the appropriate button.  As the tour group reached our game, the students had learned it so well that they could go through it in just minutes, showing the adults which prophet went with which description or activity.  Then it had to be "undone" before the next group arrived and everyone helped with that.

              I am sure we did more "exhibits" than these, but they have slipped my mind.  The last two classes before our "Grand Opening," the students took turns giving the tour to one another—once again cementing those facts in their minds.

              Finally the day arrived.  With the closing announcements, the congregation was invited to tour the "Museum of the Old Testament."  After the amen, the children rushed to our classroom and stood ready to be matched with a tour group of 3 or 4 adults.  You might think that only parents came, but you would be wrong.  Nearly every adult member showed up that morning.  It took nearly an hour to get everyone through and each child led a tour three or four times, but no one complained.  In fact, several adults thanked me in the next few weeks. 

              These children had never learned so much in such a short time, and not because of me.  These were starving little minds, like baby birds with their mouths open perpetually, waiting for food.  I hope this gives you a few ideas to use in the future.  There are hungry nestlings everywhere.
 
And when your children say to you, ‘What do you mean by this service?’ you shall say… (Exod 12:26-27)

And when in time to come your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ you shall say… (Exod 13:14)

“When your son asks you in time to come, ‘What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the LORD our God has commanded you?’ then you shall say…(Deut 6:20-21)

And he said to the people of Israel, “When your children ask their fathers in times to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know… (Josh 4:21-22)

Dene Ward