On Throwing Paper Airplanes in Church

I should have known something was up when I picked up my Sam from youth choir rehearsal one day last fall, asked him how it went, and he said, "IT WAS AWESOME!"

Not that he doesn't usually enjoy youth choir. He likes it fine, but IT WAS AWESOME! isn't his usual response.

So I wondered what made it so amazing, so different. I knew the choir had rehearsed in the sanctuary for their upcoming musical, not in their regular spot in the choir room, but surely that wasn't it.

Sam sits in this sanctuary just about every week,

often with the same enthusiasm he demonstrates when I make him put away his clean underwear and socks.

So on the drive home, Sam told me the reason for the twinkly eyes and sudden zeal. I should tell you that the Dana Carvey church lady in me just about had to pull out of traffic and search the minivan for smelling salts!

It seems that his mother had been a ding dong and dropped him off an hour early (in my defense, they changed the time,) so with an extra hour to spare, he and the other sixth grade boys with ding dong mothers had found some worthwhile pursuits to while away the time.

Pursuits like climbing to the top of the balcony and throwing paper airplanes.

"It was so fun!" Sam said. "You wouldn't believe how fun it was! Oh, and you got double points if you hit the baptistery!"

I nearly choked on my tongue.

But that wasn't all they did.
Nope.

"That sanctuary room is amazing! Have you ever thought of how many hiding places it has?"
"No, I don't think I have."
"There's the pews of course. Dozens of those. I counted them one Sunday when I was bored, but I don't remember how many there were."


"But the best place is that little nook in front of the organ. You know, behind that short little wall? You can hide there and NOBODY will find you. You could do ANYTHING and nobody would know!"

"But you know the best part?"
"I can't imagine."
"The secret slide!"
"What secret slide?"
Sam explained it, but allow me to show you.
See how the pews are arranged theater style, descending toward the front of the church?


Well, take a look at this...


Now come closer.

Yep. That's the secret slide.
I doubt it works for adults, but it might. I haven't tried it.
Come to think of it, I could have been brave and given it a try if I'd wanted to. Nobody was in the room when I was taking pictures.
Sam says it's real slippery and slide-y. You just lie on your back, push off with your hands, and whatever you do, don't raise your head up. Those pews have sharp edges.

The whole time I was listening to Sam , I have to admit, I was having a fight with myself.
Part of me was thinking I should probably thump him on the head. Launch myself into a lecture about sacred space and reverence.
The other part of me secretly wondered what time of day might be best. Just when might no one notice a forty-something woman putting down her purse, taking off her shoes, and slipping under the center of the very back pew?

In case you're wondering, the forty-something secret slider won my internal debate.
You know who convinced me?
The sanctuary itself.

You might not notice it at first, even if you're sitting right there in a pew, but the worship room of First Baptist Church, Greenville, is designed to make us feel as if we're sitting under a huge tree together.

See the branches and limbs hanging over? The mammoth trunk rising up behind the pulpit?
Can't you imagine a crowd sitting under a tree, listening to Christ tell his stories? The children wouldn't sit stone faced. They'd play!
I can't imagine a better place.
But not during worship, of course. That might just earn you a thump on the head. :)

So what do you think? How do we manage teaching our kids reverence without worshiping the things of our sacred spaces? I'd love to hear your thoughts about finding play in church!

Have a beautiful, wonder-full weekend, y'all!
Love, Becky

Thanks to Renée Turner for the paper airplane photo, licensed through creative commons.

A Visit to a Buddhist Temple

Have you ever been to a Buddhist temple?
I hadn't, until Saturday, but I'm so glad I went.

In sixth grade social studies class, the kids learn about world religions. Sam is planning a project in which he builds a miniature city complete with a Christian church, a Jewish temple, a mosque, and a Buddhist temple. Tall order, huh?

Sam has practically grown up inside a Christian church, but the other buildings? We're not so familiar with those. How can you build something if you don't really know what it looks like?
It was a perfect excuse to do some visiting.

The Place of Peace was first on our list.

It's a inter-generational temple once belonging to the Tsuzuki family in Nagoya, Japan. When the Tsuzukis donated it to Furman University, it was taken apart, piece by piece, and reassembled on the campus grounds.


I remember reading that during the temple's dedication, Seiji Tsuzuki spoke about his memories of sweeping the leaves around the temple when he was a boy.

Its craftsmanship is amazing.

The temple reminds me what I appreciate and so respect about the religion of Buddhism: the importance given to mindfulness, to paying attention to ones everyday life. That's such an important part of my Christian faith--to look for God's presence around me, to find God in the normal walk of life.

To find God in the details and in the big picture.

I love this simple fountain by the entrance.

It reminds me of the laver we've taught our Sunday school kids about, and how the Old Testament priests would wash themselves as a purifying ritual before going into the temple to worship.

See those shelve on the front porch of the temple? You take off your shoes before entering and place them there. The temple was locked so we couldn't go inside. Maybe another time.

No matter. There was plenty of God to go around just by walking across the campus.


See what I mean?







A perfect acorn, in the shade of a mighty oak. What a symbol of God's transforming power. His easy grace, dropping from the sky.


All living things seemed to pulse with God's presence that afternoon. I wanted to be like the roots of the tree, rising up, bursting out of the ground, to celebrate God's goodness.

Tanner got so excited that he baptized himself in the pond!

Careful! He'll spray you with stinky pond water!

As for me, I'll just focus on this burning bush.


Excuse me while I take off my shoes and worship.


Have a wonder-full Monday, y'all!
Love to you!
Becky

O Brother

Have you seen the movie, O Brother Where Art Thou?
The film begins with the escape of three friends, Everett, Pete, and Delmar from a chain gang in rural, depression era Mississippi. Still in leg irons, they set out to retrieve the $1.2 million in treasure that Everett stole from an armored car and buried before his incarceration, and they've got to find it fast. In four days, the whole valley will be flooded to create Arkabutla Lake, and all hopes for riches will be lost.

It's a modern retelling of Homer's Odyssey, and it's hilarious and scary and has an amazing soundtrack that burrows under your skin like ringworm.
A gorgeous, soulful ringworm, but still.

We watched it again at the beach last week, and ever since we got back home, I've been singing Man of Constant Sorrow and When I Went Down to the River to Pray. I'm crazy about both of those songs, but my family is beginning to wish they could figure out how to change my channel.

Then yesterday, as I fiddled with this blog, adding photos of our French life to the French Living page, I came across this picture.

Yes, that man in the black coat is actually me. (I know it's not fashionable, but I'm a Carolina girl who gets cold in the snow, so sorry.)
It was taken during the first year of our French life, during our first visit to Notre Dame d'Orcival, a 13th century Romanesque basilica in the tiny village of Orcival, about forty minutes from where we used to live.

Here's a better photo of the church.

Photo by Francis Debaisieux
The basilica is indeed a world treasure, but the thing that struck me most about it is what hangs on an outer wall. See it in the inset there?

Here, let me blow it up for you.

Photo by Francis Debaisieux
Those are leg irons.
Leg irons, just like the ones binding Everett and Pete and Delmar.
I saw the photo of us standing in the snow beneath the leg irons and remembered that cold day as my brain started singing
I am a man of constant sorrow I've seen trouble all my day. I bid farewell to old Kentucky The place where I was born and raised.

Our Michelin Green Guide said that the chains had been hung "in thanksgiving for released prisoners." Ben wanted to know just who was released and if it was really safe to set prisoners free, and Sarah said that maybe they weren't supposed to be in jail anyway, especially if they were the kind of prisoners who care about thanking God.

But the chains got all of us thinking and talking about what it means for God to set us free.
And yesterday, as I looked at that picture and sung along with Everett, I remembered this verse:
⁷ He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets prisoners free,

⁸ the LORD gives sight to the blind,
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,
the LORD loves the righteous.

⁹ The LORD watches over the alien
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

Psalm 146:7-9, New International Version

It's a lovely scripture, but at first thought, I wasn't sure that it had anything to do with me.
I'm not really oppressed (except by my laundry pile, ha ha.) I'm not hungry or in prison, blind or made to bow down. I'm not an alien anymore, nor am I fatherless or a widow.

But maybe it speaks to me too.
I might not be guilty of doing things that land me in prison, but I know I'm imprisoned in other ways.
Even though I try not to, I do things and think things that keep me from living the whole, healthy life God wants for me.

I envy other people. What they own that I don't. Their talents. What looks like the ease of their lives. I worry too much, and sometimes I let fear keep me from doing things that would please God. Fear of what other people might think. Fear of failing.

I could go on, but you get the point.
I'm just thankful that even though God knows all about my sorry failings, He refuses to shut the door on me. God lets me in anyway, unbinding me daily from the chains that hold me back, letting me try to do better, again and again.

I can see why Ben was worried. Is it really smart of God to operate this way? To set the prisoners free, with just their word and a piddly human effort to do better?
But that's how God operates.
That's how grace operates.
No wonder they call it amazing!

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Have you seen the movie?
What imprisons you?

Have a great Wednesday, y'all!
Love, Becky

Phantom of the Inn...Would You Believe It?

Do you believe in ghosts? (Besides the Holy one, I mean.)
If you asked me, I'd say, "Of course not," but I still might check behind the shower curtain when nobody's looking. (I'd be more worried about Norman Bates than any of Casper's relatives.)

After all, everybody knows that ghosts only show up in Scooby Doo mysteries, and then they're not really ghosts at all but the work of mentally deranged innkeepers who would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those meddling kids.

I've always assumed that ghosts and ghost busters are only in the movies (along with the Stay Puft marshmallow man.) People see what they want to see, don't they?
But then my completely sane husband came home yesterday from a business trip to Nova Scotia with a story that's rattled me a bit.
See what you think.

Whenever Todd goes to Nova Scotia, the Michelin travel people reserve him a room at the Blomidon Inn, the local bed and breakfast pictured in the Courier & Ives scene above. I should tell you that my husband is not really a B&B kind of guy. He'd rather have a big TV in the room than rocking chairs on the porch, and he doesn't cotton to sitting with a table full of stranger ladies for tea. We did B&B's plenty in France, and it was a lovely way to spend a vacation once we got used to it, but when he works? Not so much.
When he works, he wants to work, sleep, then repeat. So he just ignores the doilies. It's always worked out fine.

And why shouldn't it be fine?
Look at the beautiful rooms!

The place is full of gorgeous antiques, big fluffy beds that require a step stool...


Tons of mahoghany and teak...


Flickr photo by west.advocate
And plenty of old paintings with googly eyes that follow you all around, just like in Scooby Doo. (Do you see a pattern here?)
Check out the eyes in the painting above. Those belong to Captain Burgess, the wealthy sea captain and ship builder who built the stately Victorian as a home for his family.

"I felt uneasy the whole night," Todd told me. "I know it sounds crazy, but it felt like somebody else was in the room. I hardly slept."
If you know my husband, then you know that he's built like a football player and is very brave. (Except for the time years ago when we heard a noise in the garage and he threw me out in front of him when he opened the door. But I promised I wouldn't bring that up again.)
He flipped channels and dozed on and off, all night long.

So the next morning at the factory, he told a coworker about his rough night. The coworker wasn't surprised one bit, and shared a couple stories of his own. One involved a mutual friend of theirs (a PhD chemist, if that helps you believe it.) She stayed in Captain Burgess' room on her last business trip and woke up around 3 am to find Captain Burgess standing at the foot of the bed!
"Why are you in my bed?" the image asked her.
She promptly threw her things in a suitcase, ran to her rental car, and checked into a different hotel.

Crazy, huh? A waitress at the inn said it happens all the time.
What do you think? Do you believe it, or should we track down the innkeeper and check for a mask?

Have a great weekend, y'all!
Love, Becky
PS. Now I can't stop thinking about this...

Flexible Love and Other Cardboard Wonders

Today's Wonder of the World is...the Wonderfully Wacky Ways Creative People Use Cardboard!

Photo by CardboardSafari.etsy.com
Yes, Cardboard! Want a rhino head for your living room wall? The guys at Etsy's Cardboard Safari have just what you always wanted and some things you've never thought of!
And I thought I was being so creative letting my children make a house out of the refrigerator box.
That reminds me...do you know/have a child just learning to read? This was one of my boys' favorite books about that very subject. I highly recommend it.

Cardboard might not seem like a wonder to Miss Average Human Being, but if she watched this video on Flexible Love, she might just reconsider!
What's that?
No! Flexible Love is just the slightly awkward name of a crazy piece of furniture invented by Taiwanese designer Chishen Chiu. Take a look! You'll be amazed!



See what I mean?! Stylish furniture for that cardboard house!
The next thing you know we'll be making meals out of cardboard.
Hey look...some people already are!

Flickr photo by bre pettis
Or maybe you're not hungry. Perhaps you'd rather have two bucks?

Photo by CardboardSafari.etsy.com
If you're still celebrating the anniversary of Apollo 11, you might enjoy this Astro Rocket.

Photo by CardboardSafari.etsy.com
Or see the stars from a different perspective in this cardboard planetarium.

Flickr photo by cicadas

Cats like cardboard too.

Flickr photo by Sharon Pazner
Why wouldn't they, especially if the cat house was designed by artist Sharon Pazner and her nephew Ron. Remember Sharon? Very cool!

Have a wonder-full Monday, y'all! Enjoy the flexible love this kitty has for her own cardboard boxes.

Love, Becky

Demolition + Teenagers + God + Civil Rights History = An Awesome Week

Today's Wonder of the World is...A Work Trip to Farmville, Virginia!

Tell me, please, what teenager doesn't love hanging out with a bunch of other kids for a week, tearing down buildings and building them back, eating too much fast food, and seeing history first hand?
Okay, so the kids could probably skip the history part. Unless they went with Todd and Sarah on a mission trip to Farmville!
Ever since Todd and Sarah returned home and started telling me about the life stories they found there, I knew I had to share it with you. I'm not even a history buff--that's Todd's department, yawn yawn--but what happened there moved me. It may move you too.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Beulah African Methodist Episcopal Church of Farmville, Virginia.

Flickr photo by Ireed7649
A few months ago, our youth minister, Frank Smith, went to Farmville and asked a group of pastors if any area churches could use some help with construction needs. The kids were coming to the area anyway for youth camp the week before and would welcome the opportunity for five more days of service. Anyone need 100 kids and chaperones?
Reverend Wade of Beulah AME raised his hand.
He wasn't kidding. There was a lot of work to be done.

Little did our kids know that they were about to get a history lesson. A lesson in which Beulah AME played a major part!
Back in the fifties, all the black students in Farmville went to R.R. Moton High School. Much of the school consisted of tarpaper shacks with no running water or central heat. Barbara Johns, a brave young girl, organized a protest, which led to a strike.

The families finally filed a suit against Prince Edward County which was later incorporated into Brown vs. Board of Education.


After Brown vs Board of Education ruled segregation unlawful, the Board of Supervisors for Prince Edward County refused to give any funds to the county school board for five years, thus CLOSING ALL PUBLIC SCHOOLS!
They chose to close all public schools rather than integrate! FOR FIVE YEARS! Isn't that unbelievable?

Private schools sprung up all over for white families. Where would black children go to school?
This is where Beulah AME stepped in.


Young children went to school in church basements, but what about the older kids?
The ministers worked with the administration of Kittrell Junior College, an A.M.E. supported institution in North Carolina, to enroll students from Prince Edward County. They could graduate after all!

Now, back to the work to be done.
Here's the parsonage, the oldest piece of African American property in the county built by and for African Americans.


As you can see, it needed a lot of work.

There were other work sites too. The church itself needed quite a bit of repair, and a public elementary school had a project for our kids as well.

One of the highlights of the week was the Sunday morning service at Beulah. Everyone LOVED the music and the preaching...

Not to mention the amazing lunch prepared by the ladies of the church.

It was their favorite meal of the week.
The passersby couldn't get over the huge group of teens descending on their town. They kept asking, "Why are you doing this?" A couple folks even asked, "Why are you doing this for them?"
They answered, "Don't you think everyone deserves a nice place to worship?" After all, aren't we supposed to follow the example of another carpenter?
I guess even amongst all the goodwill present today, pockets of prejudice still fester. When Todd asked a funeral home if they would loan them one of their tents in order to shade the water coolers for the workers, the lady said, "Go ask the colored funeral home for theirs." Who still uses the word colored, anyway?

It amazes me how blind people of God can be to the humanity and pain of others. My beloved church has its own dark history. At one time years ago, black students were turned away on the front steps. Things are different now, thank goodness, but there are pockets of prejudice in our town too. It's good to be reminded of the history we share.

Have a wonder-full Wednesday, everybody!
Love, Becky