The Wind and the Waves

I have recently ventured into the land of children's ministry at my church.  I originally volunteered to work with the third and fourth graders.  I figured I would probably do better with slightly older kids because maybe they will actually listen and pay attention.  This is, in fact, a myth, as I soon discovered after several Sundays of trying to stop gaggles of ten-year olds boys in the back rows from sticking their hands in their t-shirts and trying to hit each other.

So, this past Sunday, due to schedules and conflicts, I had the privilege of working with the five- and six-year olds.  I thought to myself, "Alright...we can handle little ones.  They tend to be a little needier and have the attention span of a gnat, but hey, we can make this work."  Our lesson focused on the story of Jesus and the storm that nearly tossed the disciples overboard.  We typically gather all of the children together for a large-group time and then break up into respective age groups for small-group time.  We dance and sing our way through the large-group time and then my little band of about 12 kids makes their way over to our designated area. 

Some of the kids decided our first game was rather dull for their liking and opted to work on their Father's Day paper ties with one of the other teachers.  Okay, cool.  Have at it.  So while they're coloring, I've got my remaining little ones milling around in a circle, waiting for me to give instructions. 

The game was to proceed as follows:

The children were to show me their scary face, the look they get when they are most afraid.  And then they were to run around, making noises, pretending like they were a storm, all loud and crazy.  Once I raised my arms in the air, they were to stop and get quiet.  These results were to be achieved over a series of practice rounds, with the eventual goal of having complete silence and zero motion immediately upon my hands being raised in the air.

So, we give it a whirl.  They run around, making noises and I throw my hands in the air.  They sort of got quiet.

We aim for a second round.  Same thing, they run around, I throw my hands in the air.  Maybe two of the eight stopped.  It was like a game of "Red Light, Green Light."  By the time they are sprinting and you say red light, they've already taken about ten extra steps because they've got too much momentum going. At this point, their range has extended beyond the invisible boundaries I have designated in my head and fewer and fewer were paying attention.

We aim for a third time.  It's at this point that it becomes very evident to me I am not Jesus because the wind and the waves are not obeying. They are, in fact, forgetting that I exist.   Awesome.  So, since I am not Jesus, I decided we just need to drain the sea all together and bring this game to an end.  The wind and the waves just needed to find a seat now.  But even that proves to be an act of God sometimes.

God bless little ones, for reminding me in their own comical little ways that I very much need Someone other than myself to calm the wind and the waves.  And even Someone else to sometimes tell them to take a seat all together.