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Pajamas, Parking Lots and Popped Balloons

June 12, 2009

After I typed my title, I realized just how Southern Baptist I am.  Those of you that went to seminary, tell me — was there a course on that?  Or was it a test question somewhere?  “True or False: All sermon points must begin with the same letter.”

Back to my three Ps…

Earlier this evening, I ran through my parking lot chasing a rogue balloon.  As I jogged after the escaped pink balloon that just kept bouncing along even though there wasn’t much of a breeze, I was also grasping the handles of four kitchen trash bags that were full of roughly 32 more balloons.

I was doing this while in my pajamas.  A very cutesy set with pink hearts all over the pants, but pajamas nonetheless.

Why was I doing this?  VBS.  Vacation Bible School.  For two of the groups tomorrow, I slipped little notes with “You are special!” and “God loves you!” along with the memory verse into about 40 balloons.  The balloons’ only purpose in their short life is to get popped at the very end of the lesson.  (Note to self: remember to bring Extra Strength Tylenol…)  It took me a very long time to get that done, especially because I am horrible at tying up balloons.  The Husband had to help me when he came home.

All week long, I’ve been coming home and planning for the next day or two, because preparing all 15 lessons in advance was a little overwhelming.  I’ve been cutting, taping, figuring out how to get gift bags to stay attached to waist aprons or how to reenact a storm inside a classroom (box fan and squirt bottles, FYI)  — all for sessions no longer than 25 minutes.  The kids come in, I present what I’ve slaved over and tried to be creative with, they go along with it and sometimes like it, then they leave.

Will they remember that 20-25  minutes?  Maybe.  Will it be included in their “What I Did On My Summer Vacation”?  Probably not.

Do I mind?  Not so much.

I rush around between groups changing the room around for the different lessons. I am completely exhausted after just four measly hours each day.  I come home and I plan and work, and sometimes shop.  I write out these little lessons on notebook paper and sort all the printouts and posters and what I’ll need in the different leader books.  I go a little crazy, and I notice my hands are kind of shaky when I do it all.

Do I mind?  Not so much.

I am loving every single shaky-handed minute of it! 

Not so long ago in a Bible study, we talked about when we do things that God wants us to, what He’s purposed us for, we feel His joy.  A reference to the line in Chariots of Fire was made — “…when I run I feel His pleasure…”

I wonder if that’s what this is.  The joy I have getting up earlier than usual.  The fervent prayers that He can use this scatter-brained uncool mom-type to reach out to these kids.  The rush of excitement as the first students walk through the door in the morning, and the “It’s over already?!” as the last group shuffles out. 

Am I being shown something I need to do more of?  Is it a coincidence that this feeling in my heart comes right after reading Pathways to Purpose for Women and completing Beth Moore’s study where she told us we would find our destiny?

Ah, that it would only take me a mere 33 years…

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