"My Dad Doesn't Read The Newspaper!" or Some Things Never Change

"Think!" said the young man teaching the grades 1-6 Sunday School classes this past Sunday.

He was trying to get them to remember the word 'gospel' means Good News!

As a clue he asked 'what does your dad read in the morning with his coffee?

no answer.

"news..." he hints

no answer.

"The newspaper, right?"

One little boy in my class shook his head

(looking up at me with eyes so big and brown one could get lost in them) 

and whispered loudly, "My dad doesn't read the newspaper. He reads his Bible!"

All the other little boys whispered "my dad doesn't read the newspaper!"

I'm guessing the news is likely read on smaller less intrusive or visible devices.

(Also, it made me wonder how many families still sit down together for breakfast in the morning!) 

Ah, changing times...like far less newspapers being sold or read!...or Bibles?

One thing that does not change is children...

they still come into the world as pure and innocent as ever!

(Perfect in crooked ponytails and week-old Dominican-vacation braids;-))

Yesterday I listened to these two girls chat as they strung 'seeds'

 (One little girl simply couldn't remember they were beads, not seeds;-)

Comparing and discussing life one girl (daughter of a multi-million$ farm operation) said to the other "well, I guess someone just gave us this farm and now all we have is chores!

 cow-chores, chicken-chores, calf-chores, cat-chores and Clifford-chores (Clifford is their new puppy) 

It's SO bohing(boring) we don't get to watch anything, not even a pretend TV!! 

She, a through and through farm girl is out with her daddy chasing cattle, kicking and whooping with the best of them and loves it...doesn't know she's living a bit of heaven on earth 

or that someone did not 'just give' the farm to them, 

but children are free and unhindered as yet with 'the ties that bind dads and moms to the grindstone!'

Children, so innocent, so dependent on us!!

...to teach, train, instruct as they absorb their surroundings!

Oh, bitty best perfection

Oh, pretty girl and boy

You steal our best affection 

and rouse our deepest joy

Oh, mommy, daddy, listen

This bitty blur of bliss

That grants glimpses of heaven

Is more than hug and kiss

It is a commandeering 

Toward a Certain Goal 

A vital,

faithful,

gentle 

leading

Of body bearing soul

Janet~

Dear Teacher...

 All over Canada, yellow buses dot back-to-school town and countryside...

What a high vocation

Of inestimable reach

A room full of children

And you, there to teach

Dear teacher, be careful

With each mind you mold

For children learn far more

Than just what they’re told

Each child, like a flower

Cradled in bud-loom

Where you hold the power

To probe it to bloom

Dear teacher, be gracious

With your teacher-looks

For they read your faces

Sometimes better than books

Dear teacher, we thank you

For helping them learn

Though you seldom witness

Your labor’s return

…in this high vocation

Of inestimable reach

A room full of children

And you, there to teach

© Janet Martin

Let's pray for our teachers diligently

as they meet new children and new challenges

of a new school-year!

My heart goes out to teachers...
esp. new ones unprepared for child/crowd-control issues that
really cut into quality teaching-time! 

Come, Dear Child and Let Me Tell You

 Part I

Come, dear child and let me tell you

As we stroll across the day

About One who made the morning

And the night that fades away

How He spoke into the blackness

Commanding, ‘let there be Light’

And how Time from that day forward

Became morning, noon and night

Come, dear child, the whole world surges

With the beauty God has made

See the dappled sun and shadow

Where the willow spreads its shade

See the grass, the tree, the song-bird

As it flits from limb to limb

Butterfly and lovely flower

All designed and shaped by Him

See the fish that fill the ocean

And the puddles after rain

Cow and sheep out in the meadow

Sweeping fields of corn and grain

Come dear, child and look around you

Every stem that sprouts from sod

Is a glimpse of the Creator

For it is the work of God

Part II

Come dear child and let me show you

The most wondrous thing of all

See this picture of a cross

Covered in red where blood-drops fall

See the One who hangs there dying

Nails pierced though precious Jesus

High above the earth His crying

Pleads that God would forgive us

Jesus loves the little children

And He longs for you to know

How He made the earth and heavens

Oh, so very long ago

And the One who made the flowers

Every bird and every tree

Is the God whose own Son, Jesus

Died for us on Calvary

Come dear child and let me tell you

As we stroll across the day

How the precious blood of Jesus

Washes all our guilt away

Yes, He made winter and summer

Everything in spring and fall

But dear child, then God made people

And He loves us best of all

© Janet Martin

Heirs of Tomorrow

Yes, sometimes I forget

…it isn’t hard to do

And choose toil’s little odds and ends

Stealing time spent with you

How swift each season flies

A soft and subtle reach

Teasing the baby from our arms

While we hug, hold and teach

Once upon yesterday

We were children, carefree

And never gave a second thought

To love’s wise legacy

The tide that carried us

Still rushes ‘cross the wild

Now we leave in its wide-flung wake

Our footprints for a child

Here run tomorrow’s heirs

To everything we weave

We ought to touch with tender care

The moments in Time’s sieve

A child, but not for long

Time’s keen deliverance

Will leave those things we made for them

As their inheritance

© Janet Martin

Before supper I picked up fresh eggs at a local farm. A little boy was hammering two pieces of scrap wood together in the shed where they keep the eggs. When I asked him what he is making he told me 'a sled’ and without pausing he got up, pinched his creation in a vice-grip and began sawing the end with a small hand-saw. Next I asked him what he is going to use for the part to sit on, and again without pausing in his ‘work’ he replied, ‘oh, I don’t know yet’, his cheeks rosy from cold and exertion and his eyes gold with dream-dust.

What are we leaving these heirs of tomorrow?

…these precious, precious heirs!

What We Do

We know they have caught

More than we can ever say

But we try to give them

A little advice anyway

We know for all the words

Expressed in concern

It’s what we do

Whereby they learn

We know now

Childhood is soon gone

Shaped in essence

By what we, their parents, have done

© Janet Martin

A child is taught by what is caught.

Yes, that proverb is true!

May we be inspired

 To work with them, play with them;

Laugh with them and pray with them!

                                                                         and listen too.

It's easy to beat ourselves up with the 'coulda-shoulda-stuff' when looking back, but today is a gift to do! Let's do what we ought to today!

Of Disappointment and Destinies

Disappointment is not a destination

But sets out its stepping-stones

To refine, strengthen, condition

The unknowns becoming known

Disappointment is a teacher

And though reluctant we may be

We will ever be her student

Learning her humility

Disappointment is a shadow

Not a wall; it will pass by

As its bittersweet life-lessons

Tune the heart and keen the eye

Disappointment; tough task-master

But when all is said and done

She will make us kinder, wiser

Teaching appreciation

© Janet Martin

The ABC's of Life

If we have taught them how to be

Astronauts or

Bridge-builders or

Composers or

Doctors or

Engineers or

Farmers or

Governors or

Home-makers or

Intellects or

Judges or

Kings or

Landscapers or

Mothers or

Nurses or

Optometrists or

Presidents or

Queens or

Receptionists or

Scientists or

Teachers or

Undertakers or

Veterinarians or

Writers or

X-ray technicians or

Yoga instructors or

Zoo-keepers

…without first teaching the love of God

We have failed.

© Janet Martin

The devotion I read this morning reminded us how important it is that we, as parents reflect the love of God.