Tag Archives: Family

Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee!

In Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge was obsessed over the accumulation of wealth. He was greedy, hoarding his pennies. He was mean, complaining about the poor. He was nasty, wishing ill on others. No one wanted to be around him. His main problem, however, was that he had lost his joy. Wretched behavior grew in the chasm left behind. In a last ditch effort to save Scrooge’s soul from eternal torment, three ghosts individually appeared to him to whisk him through time: past, present, and future. With the Spirits’ guidance, Scrooge examined poignant moments of his life and was convinced that he needed both a change of heart and a change in behavior.

Similarly, we’ve all had moments in which we’ve buried our joy so deeply that it seems like we’ll need several miracles to find it again. We battle busy schedules and stress over unfinished projects. We say things we don’t mean to loved ones and regret how we’ve hurt them. We obsess over wrongs done to us and harbor contempt towards offenders. Financial worries, health scares, and tension all add to our woe. We want to dismiss everyone and everything with a loud “Bah! Humbug!”

But we don’t have to hide from the Grim Reaper—or avoid answering the phone—by curling up beneath our covers on cold, dark mornings. There are ways to get through the gloom and into the light. We just need a healthy disposition and a route to lead us back to joy. The three avenues that help me are to give, pray, and sing.

GIVE
A year ago, I fueled my van at Costco and started to maneuver past the pumps. I wasn’t in too much of a hurry. I had plenty of time to meet my boys at their school and take them home. It was cold, about 40 degrees. The boys would keep warm inside until they saw me arrive.

Just as I was about to exit the Costco lot onto a busy road, I saw a young woman walking through the grass. She struggled on the uneven ground in part because she was lugging an infant carrier. I had no doubt there was a baby tucked underneath the layers of blankets. Of the two travelers, the young mother was the one crying.

For once in my life, I wasn’t conflicted over whether or not to offer help. I rolled my window down and shouted a couple of times in the woman’s direction before she heard my offers to give her a ride.

Quote taken from A Christmas Carol. Photo by Kelly Bixby

She told me that her van had run out of gas in a lot across the street from Costco. She had seen the gas pumps and made her way over to ask for help. A man whom she had approached was rude and turned her away. Her tears led me to believe that she was emotionally defeated by the time I came upon her.

According to Jesus, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Through my chance meeting with the young mother, I know exactly how it feels to be blessed. It is joy to be handed trust and confidence from a stranger. It is joy to provide for another person. It is joy to cry together, hug goodbye and wish good upon one another.

In Matthew 25:35, we read, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.” If you’re inspired to give of yourself in any of these ways, you’ll meet a need in someone’s life. Sometimes they’ll thank you. Sometimes they won’t. When you give freely, without expecting anything in return, you’ll feel differently, and you’ll want to give more.

PRAY
There was a time when I couldn’t imagine squeezing a single minute out of my day for any other being, even God. I was a busy mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, volunteer, committee member…titles galore. For crying out loud, I couldn’t possibly support one more relationship! And then, I gave in to an ever-present tug: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6). So, God joined me during my early morning showers.

Praying while showering may seem disrespectful to people of other faiths who are tied to strict worship ceremonies and customs. But my Christian faith teaches that nothing stands between the Creator of the Universe and me. I can approach Him anytime and anywhere. I may be casual and speak conversationally with Him. Alternatively, I can be formal and lower myself to the ground in reverence, never losing sight of the fact that He is owed my perpetual thanks and utmost respect.

Throughout my years spent getting to know Him, I’ve discovered that He has quite a sense of humor. He’s very opinionated and He’s jealous for my attention. He’s loving and kind too. And sometimes His expression of love comes with harsh discipline. What’s really cool, however, is that He provides me with all that I need.

We work well together: I seek His input into my life and He directs me…I may have that statement backwards. Either way, I don’t always listen, and the path isn’t always easy or clear. I’ve tripped over plenty of litter—ugly sin and temptations, disappointment and heartache—scattered by the world. I’m not immune to any of it. Often, I wonder if I might even be more susceptible to it than people who don’t care about His approval.

The beauty of His and my relationship with one another is that He knows what I truly think about Him, and I get to experience the joy of His companionship as He walks with me through all my trials. It feels good to know that He is ever present and looks forward to our one-on-One time. “Go into your room, close the door and pray to your father, who is unseen” (Matthew 6:6).

SING
The Detroit Christian radio station, K-LOVE 106.3 FM, challenged its audience members to spend thirty days listening to nothing else but Christian radio. The point was for listeners to replace worldly distractions with the praiseworthy songs and positive messages provided by Christian radio programming. For me, that meant that I would have to turn off daytime TV shows and evening news programs.

I did it! I tuned out mainstream media and primarily listened to three stations: K-LOVE; Faith Talk 1500; and WMUZ 103.5 FM – The Light. For well-over a year now, my life has been practically void of televised news and I don’t miss it one bit. There are plenty of other ways to get information. My friends, family, and church all provide enough details for me to feel like I have some idea as to what is happening in the world. If I want to know more, I look to the Internet and mindfully select what I want to read or view. By choosing to do this, I am not bombarded with overly negative and repetitively broadcast stories. Bucking popular information sources and spending time singing along to songs of worship has brought greater peace to my life and more productivity to my days.

I admit to venturing astray by going to hear the Rolling Stones play at Comerica Park; how could I not? I collected nearly every one of their albums during my youth. By the way, the concert was amazing! The guys all defied their ages as they played a dozen and a half of their iconic songs, and I had fun singing.

In comparison, a year earlier my husband and I celebrated our wedding anniversary by attending a concert performance of Christian artists: Third Day, Mercy Me, and Colton Dixon. That concert was amazing for a different reason: Christian music seeps into my soul like nothing else. I carry songs of praise almost constantly in the background of my mind. And the joy I feel is powerful enough to get me fervently dancing. That’s a phenomenon for a conservative girl like me. With my arms reaching towards heaven, I belt out words of worship, words reserved for the King of Kings. Mick may still jump around like a thirty-five year-old, but I know my heart belongs to Jesus. I feel it in my joyful soul.

“Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:19).

This Christmas, I hope you’ll plot your way to joy. GIVE cheerfully, PRAY boldly, and SING loudly!

Wordplay: My Geek Is Showing

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I failed my children by not pushing them further in studying spelling and vocabulary. One of my sons, a senior in high school, said to me that he just doesn’t know very many words. His limited repertoire made writing essays for his college applications a difficult and grueling process. Writing never came easily to him.

In contrast, I’ve always loved penning my thoughts and studying the mechanics of grammar, selecting the right words to convey my meaning. I love playing Boggle and Scrabble, and I look forward to quizzing myself with Reader’s Digest’s “Word Power.” I stop myself from giving my son too much writing advice because it’s important that he express his own thoughts in his own way. In looking back at the differences in our educations, I have an idea of why he struggles more than I do.

My elementary and junior high schools encouraged participation in spelling bees. I spent hours on rote memorization with the help of my patient mom. She read pages full of words out loud to me, one word at a time. I never once thought to ask her what the origin of an unfamiliar word was, but today’s top spelling bee contestants frequently make use of that rather sophisticated technique. If I had known there was more to studying spelling than memorization, I might not have lost first place to Kathy Trotter in the sixth grade. I didn’t know how to spell curry. Rote memorization only got me so far. Fortunately, I wasn’t competing for a college scholarship. The short-term goal was simply praise, a dictionary, and a trophy. The lifetime benefit was that I became a good speller.

KellyDeadwood-2015-11Nov-ToiletTreesList

Spelling and vocabulary matter: I had to let my son know that toiletries would be easier to pack.

Sixth grade for my children was a different experience. Their spelling words were taken from their own journal entries. The children were tested on words which they individually used in their own writing exercises. I understood the practicality of holding students responsible for using self-selected words correctly. But I wanted a bigger challenge for my kids. How would they learn new and unfamiliar words and to expand their knowledge of language?

I reminded myself that teachers aren’t solely or primarily responsible for our children’s educations. As parents, we need to instruct and guide. To complement my children’s elementary school lessons, I developed a game that I thought would challenge them and be fun for our entire family.

During one week, I randomly selected a word each day from our two-volume dictionary. By the end of the week, we all had to know how to spell the seven chosen words and combine them into one sentence. The sentence could be longer than seven words, but it had to reflect correct usage and meaning. Essentially, the family and I studied a word a day—similar in scope to what Merriam-Webster currently offers online—but my game involved the added challenge I was seeking.

So that you can see how this game worked, I’m going to borrow the seven “Word of The Day” selections which Merriam-Webster promoted from October 29 – November 4, 2015. First, we have to consider the definitions of the words. The list below is taken verbatim from www.merriam-webster.com.

Pellucid: admitting maximum passage of light without diffusion or distortion; reflecting light evenly from all surfaces; easy to understand

Underwhelm: to fail to impress or stimulate

Ebullient: boiling, agitated; having or showing liveliness and enthusiasm; exuberant

Microburst: a violent short-lived localized downdraft that creates extreme wind shears at low altitudes and is usually associated with thunderstorms

Ruddy: having a healthy reddish color; red, reddish

Confidant: one to whom secrets are entrusted; especially: an intimate friend

Trepid: timorous, fearful

Now comes the hard part: we have to consider those definitions in anticipation of using the seven words to construct one sentence. Here’s my solution to the puzzle:

My ruddy confidant was caught in a microburst which left her so trepid that, when she couldn’t describe the situation in a pellucid manner, I was underwhelmed, despite her apparently ebullient experience.

KellyDeadwood-2015-11Nov-KellyMemeThanksgiving

If I wanted to break the rules of grammar when creating this meme, I would have written Happy Givingthanks.

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Sadly, my kids never really enjoyed the game as much as I did, and it was quickly forgotten. But thank goodness, they now have smart phones and can share highly entertaining, often grammatically incorrect, internet memes with one another. If only people like my kids understood the rules before they broke them.

Grin and Bare It

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I’m never more aware that I’m a day closer to death than when I’m melting like a freakish human dummy in House of Wax. Burning on the inside and drenched by sweat on the outside, I have zero tolerance for the slightest touch. Hands off! Don’t come near me. I’m about to self-combust. After all, what other purpose do damnable hot flashes serve than to dry up my internal organs until I disappear into a puff of smoke? One day, I may very well be reduced to a pile of dust. In an instant.

You men and younger ladies already have some idea of what we middle-aged women deal with. You’ve seen us trying to minimize contact with anything that restrains heat in our bodies. Off go our sweaters as we scoot to the edge of our seats and make more room for air flow. We could stand, but physical activity takes too much effort and makes us feel hotter.

A Smilebox photo by Kelly Bixby

Some of us are convinced that even the slightest amount of energy we expend in fanning ourselves may work against our attempts to snuff out the raging infernos. Desperate, we become as still as possible and resort to heavy panting—a technique perfected by dogs to cool down. We endure and survive, but in the heat of the moment, we are not glamorous at all.

We mature women have to figure out what we’re willing to do to minimize our discomfort. Exposing one of my solutions may be TMI. Let me just say that I’m often tempted to create a new Twitter hashtag: #HalfNakedAndWriting. Don’t worry, though, moms and dads (particularly mine). I won’t go public with that, because I don’t want to grab the attention of seedy characters hoping to find a provocative picture attached to the description. Instant popularity isn’t worth dealing with a bunch of stalkers. It would be nice, however, to commiserate with other women writers who have reached this milestone in the aging process.

Having lived with this curse for several years, I’d like to share some of the things I’ve learned. Men, I promise not to leave you out. Bear with me while I first explain why commonly recommended treatments are associated with long-term health risks. Then, I’ll reveal how you can safely help the woman you love to alleviate her symptoms.

Popular methods to reduce hot flashes can be detrimental to our health. For instance, a product called Estroven touts that it is “drug-free and estrogen-free***.” Truth in advertising perhaps, but connect those three asterisks to the information hidden in the fine print:

“***Estroven does not contain synthetic, animal or human-derived hormones.”

It sounds great, as if you’re completely avoiding the hormone estrogen. Except, if you keep researching, you’ll find that soy, a plant-based product, is listed as Estroven’s first and, therefore, most abundant ingredient, under none other than the title of “Warnings.”

What could be so bad about soy that it falls under a warning? Ingesting soy affects the levels of estrogen in our bodies and may play a role in a woman’s increased chance of developing breast cancer. In the article “Soy and Breast Cancer, What’s the Link?,” WebMD journalist Salynn Boyles reported:

“The concern about soy stems from the fact that most breast cancers are fueled by the female sex hormone estrogen. Just as the body produces estrogen, so do plants, and soy contains high amounts of estrogen-like chemicals called isoflavones. The research is unclear about how these plant-based estrogens impact the body’s own estrogen levels and breast cancer growth.” (1)

My own gynecologist recommends black cohosh as an acceptable option to reduce hot flashes. It’s known by many other names, most notably phytoestrogen. Surely any and all of those must be safe or my doctor wouldn’t suggest the herbal supplement in the first place?

Not necessarily. Scientists are still battling to determine if herbal supplements increase or decrease a woman’s chance of developing breast cancer. Boyles interviewed Dana Farber Cancer Center oncologist, Wendy Chen, MD, for an expert explanation. Chen indicated:

“A link between breast cancer and hormones is clear. Researchers think that the greater a woman’s exposure to the hormone estrogen, the more susceptible she is to develop breast cancer. Estrogen tells cells to divide; the more the cells divide, the more likely they are to be abnormal in some way, possibly becoming cancerous. We tell women with breast cancer to definitely avoid the [soy] supplements….Our message to the general public is that we really don’t know if supplements are safe because they haven’t been tested.”

Additionally, the American Heart Association concluded:

“The efficacy and safety of soy isoflavones for preventing or treating cancer of the breast…are not established; evidence from clinical trials is meager and cautionary with regard to a possible adverse effect. For this reason, use of isoflavone supplements in food or pills is not recommended.” (2)

We can opt not to take it in pill form, but have you noticed how prevalent soy is in our food products? Soy may be inherently natural, but it is unnaturally processed and added to many popular snack foods. It’s in M & Ms, granola bars, Oreos, chocolate covered raisins and pretzels, graham crackers, and gourmet popcorn. Sadly, all of which I have in my cupboard. Take a look in your own pantry and read a label or two. If soy is in your packaged food, you may see it noted as a type of warning in big bold print: “Contains: Soy.”

Men, there is no denying that your bodies have a little estrogen in addition to your much more abundant testosterone levels. Unknowingly, you may be taking in more estrogens through the foods you eat and even in the water you drink. I don’t want to cause anyone undue worry, but there is evidence that you also are at risk from environmentally introduced estrogens. (Take a look at environmentalhealthnews.org.)

One in eight women, and one in one thousand men, will be diagnosed with breast cancer. After being hit with that devastation—and too late in my opinion—many will be advised to avoid eating soy altogether.

The convenience of processed food is proving not to be worth the consequences on our health. Fitness guru Jillian Michaels offered practical advice when she was interviewed by CNN. She said, “If it doesn’t come out of the ground and it didn’t have a mother, don’t put it in your mouth.” (3)

Image created by Kelly Bixby, using Rhonna Designs

How bad must a woman’s symptoms be for her to adopt the use of steroidal estrogens? They are Known To Be Human Carcinogens! The National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (NIEHS) reports that its “National Toxicology Program has listed six substances in its Report on Carcinogens (RoC) that cause or may cause breast cancer in humans. These include: diethylstilbestrol, a synthetic form of estrogen that was used to prevent miscarriages; steroidal estrogens used for menopausal therapy; X-ray and gamma radiation; alcoholic beverages; tobacco smoking; and the sterilizing agent, ethylene oxide.” (4)

Do you read that above list and find it easy to accept that tobacco smoking may cause breast cancer? We’ve been bombarded with that knowledge for decades. Now the evidence is showing that using estrogens is risky and that we should think twice before indulging in a glass of wine. Ugh!

What can women do to get through an uncomfortable hot flash? Here are my top three recommendations:

• Embrace the fan. Based on my own experience, the instantly gratifying relief is worth the extra kilojoules, and there are many free or inexpensive options to choose from. When at home, junk mail serves as a great go-to device. Out grocery shopping? Pick up a weekly advertisement on your way into the store. Attending service? The church bulletin is handed right to you. Everywhere you go, proactively scan your immediate surroundings for emergency use of any decent cardstock. Or, channel Scarlett O’Hara and invest in something fancy and foldable. Still worried about expending too much energy? Pack a small, battery-operated fan in your purse.

• Dress in layers. Be prepared to strip down as far as public decency allows. Store your big, bulky sweaters at the bottom of the closet, and donate anything that has to be pulled over your head. Camis are the only exception, especially if you have teenagers at home. They don’t want to see you running around in anything less. Invest in clothing that has buttons or zippers all the way up and down. You’re worth an updated wardrobe.

• Rely on the man in your life. He can help with a short-term fix. Tilt your head to one side, lean in close to him, and enjoy a soothing moment as your significant other gently blows on your neck. It won’t take long for you to cool down, smile, and feel more connected to the one you love. Once you’ve relaxed—and if you and your spouse are lucky enough to be home alone when a hot flash strikes—consider the advantages to shedding all restrictive clothing.***

I think you may find that there’s nothing more natural, worry-free, and satisfying.
——————————–
***Proceed with caution; squelching one fire may ignite an entirely different one.

Notes:
(1) http://www.webmd.com/breast-cancer/features/soy-effects-on-breast-cancer?page=2
(2) http://circ.ahajournals.org/content/113/7/1034.full
(3) http://edition.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0901/03/hcsg.01.html
(4) http://www.niehs.nih.gov/health/assets/docs_a_e/environmental_factors_and_breast_cancer_risk_508.pdf

Additional Resource:
Breast cancer in men

Shark!

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Every time I travel to a tropical destination, I wrestle with the way I’m drawn to the ocean while simultaneously being wary of it. A mysterious world lies hidden below its surface. Fish, coral, invertebrates, various species that live in the warm shallows and others found only in the deepest, darkest depths. Is exploring it worth risking a menacing confrontation with a barracuda, the sting of a jellyfish, or a bite by a shark? The payoff could be stealing a glimpse of an eel as it slithers along the crevices of a reef or, even better, spotting an elusive octopus that makes a rare morning appearance before quickly disappearing.

“Will I have to worry about anything dangerous or scary?” I can’t hold back from posing this question to nearly every snorkeling guide I hire, despite my knowing the answer.

The Atlantic Ocean nestles the southwestern tip of tropical island, Eleuthera. Photo: Kelly Bixby

In the twenty years I’ve been fascinated with the ocean, not one guide has cautioned me against getting in the water. Instead, they tell me of all the creatures they hope we’ll see. Because they know the habits and territories of the underwater residents, the guides sometimes graciously bring food and snacks for their hungry, finned friends—and we snorkelers get to take part in a neighborly little block party while we’re in town visiting. The guides say things like, “with any luck, we’ll find the seahorse” and “sometimes we see a nurse shark.” Whoa! I heard that! My ears perk up and my heart skips a beat in trepidation.

I’ve never faced any threat greater than having to dodge sea urchins, but I still can’t subdue the prevailing thought that makes me nervous to get in the salty sea: a potential encounter with a shark. You might think that the informational Discovery Channel series, Shark Week, would undo the damage to my psyche that the movie Jaws inflicted on me. But fear came before rationale, and now it’s very hard to get rid of.

During spring break in 2002, I was swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, off the eastern coast of Florida. I was warned that a small shark had chomped on someone’s ankle a week earlier. The bite occurred in the same shallow water where my husband, Greg, and our four children bounced along breaking waves and bodysurfed. Their giggles and carefree smiles indicated that, unlike me, they were not the least bit concerned. They had no idea there was potential danger. I wasn’t about to spoil their fun, but I recall feeling extremely relieved when we left Cape Coral Beach with all body parts intact.

Exhuma Sound (Caribbean Sea) and Lighthouse Beach, Eleuthera, Bahamas, 2011. Photo: Kelly Bixby

Nine years later, off the desolate coast of Eluthera in the Bahamas, Greg and I met two people—a doctor and his wife—on Lighthouse Beach. They looked to be serious, experienced snorkelers. Wearing full wetsuits, this couple was prepared to go into deeper, colder water than I could tolerate. Greg and I watched from the shore as they dared to go on the outer side of the reef. We relaxed on the beach for awhile and were just preparing to head into the Caribbean when the couple returned. They had been frightened by the sighting of a bull shark and decided they had had enough fun for one day. They left the beach, and Greg and I were completely alone.

At that point, I was a little intimidated to enter the sea. There was no cell phone coverage for miles; nobody to cry out to for help. The nearest paved road was a forty-five minute drive away on a rutted, dirt road squeezed down to one lane by dense brush and trees encroaching it on each side. Having a beach all to ourselves was both extraordinary and problematic.

I was apprehensive, but we had planned to snorkel, so that’s what we did. We stayed on the inside of the reef to avoid the deeper, colder, and predator-infested sea. And I prayed that God would keep the bull shark away from us.

While Greg never tired of the underwater wonders, my body’s defense mechanism eventually kicked in. I started shivering from being in the cold sea too long and had to return to the warmth and safety of the shore. Unscathed, I compared fish stories with Greg. Thankfully, neither of us came nose-to-nose with the ten-foot long behemoth.

By far, the most frightening moment of my life occurred a year earlier, off Siesta Key Beach, in the Gulf of Mexico. Once again, my children were happily playing in the ocean. They were standing in waist-high water, a couple hundred feet from shore and far beyond my protection as I entered the gulf. I froze in place when I witnessed a sinister dorsal fin rise above the smooth blue surface and travel directly toward them.

A bull shark anticipates an easy dinner as it waits for chum at the Cape Eleuthera Marina (formerly Powell Pointe Marina). Photo: Kelly Bixby

I was immediately terrified and panicked. My voice was the only weapon I had in the battle to save my children. There was no other way for me to intervene. Behaving like a lunatic, I frantically waved my arms and screamed, “Get out of the water!”

Part of me realized I could be making a deadly demand of them. Better advice would have been to have them stand as still as possible. No splashing. No fleeing. Be courageous and don’t become its prey. If all that fails, fight. Punch it in the nose or poke it in an eye. But I wasn’t thinking calmly. My children were in peril, and I was out of my mind with worry. Seconds seemed eternally long before the wind carried hope my way. From behind me on shore, a man spoke words, full of knowledge and reason, to inform me that the imposing creature was only a dolphin.

What faith I put in his observation. I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him. Surely he was better than me at recognizing the difference between the gentle, arching movement as a dolphin rolls through water and the more rigid, racing, cutting precision a shark displays when it’s locked on a target. I could be wrong, but he must not be.

I saw my children vying to get to shore and meekly waved them off. I relayed the good news, “It’s only a dolphin!” but they continued on their way. Dread developed into laughter by the time they reached me. We caught our breath and watched other children who jumped into a kayak and quickly paddled towards the dolphin in order to get a closer look. They might have missed it, had I not made a spectacle of myself.

Shark tales like these are why I find comfort in hiring snorkeling guides when I’m exploring new places. Guides know how best to navigate narrow openings like those in between fire coral formations. They know the lay of the land. They’ve repeated the same route hundreds of times. I expect them to keep me safe, yet I also know my confidence in them is overrated. They’re not captains who will go down with their ships. They’re not mother bears ferociously protecting their precious cubs. They’re not any more prepared than a crazy mama like me in being able to fend off Megalodon.

The Kingdom Belongs to Children

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Max crouched down, squished himself in between two other six-year olds and waited eagerly, like a compressed spring about to uncoil, for his turn. He looked up at his older cousin, Alexandra, and whispered, “What’s a sin?”

He was a little embarrassed and hoped no one other than Alexandra had heard him. She had seen what was going on between him and the other boy. She would understand that it wasn’t Max’s fault he hadn’t been completely listening to Miss Becca, his vacation Bible school teacher.

He thought it was nice that some of the married teachers, including Miss Becca, didn’t always want to be called Mrs. So-and-So. Miss Becca let you call her by her first name, as long as you added “Miss” beforehand. Max first met Miss Becca in church. She sat next to him a couple times during worship service, and every now and then she taught his Sunday school class. Max liked the way she paid attention to him when he talked with her. She looked him right in the eyes and didn’t seem bothered by any of his questions.

Today, she asked that everyone call her Lady Becca. All the lady teachers, the girls, and she were strolling around like royalty, with their chins up and heads high. When she spoke, she didn’t pronounce words like she normally did. Everything she said seemed more proper and formal, and to top that off, she taught the boys how to bow and the girls how to curtsy.

“Too bad for them,” Max thought. Bowing was so much better. It didn’t require practice like the girls were doing. Boys were way more cool. They could pretend to be brave knights defending a kingdom. He was glad that his mom knew about the medieval theme and let him take a toy sword to the summer program. Swords weren’t normally allowed at church. Max figured this week would be fun.

When Lady Becca had explained what a sin was, Max was distracted by his new friend, Aidan, who kept trying to take Max’s sword away from him. “Just for a minute,” Aidan had pleaded, but Max knew better than to give up his plastic weapon. He might never get it back! It was no wonder he missed some of what his teacher had said. He was lucky just to have caught the most important part: only one person in all of history has never sinned. “But what exactly are my sins?” he silently worried.

Without hesitating, Alexandra simultaneously answered the question he asked out loud and the one he was thinking. She said, “A sin is anything you do that’s wrong.”

“Thanks, Alex,” he softly replied.

Alexandra preferred to be called “Alex.” That’s what her mom called her, what her dad called her, and what Max called her, usually. Alex was pretty smart…and she paid attention. Or, she paid attention…and was pretty smart. One way or another, she seemed to know about God’s son who came down from heaven to be with people. Alex was fourteen and old enough to be Lady Becca’s youth helper. All the teachers had at least one of the older kids to help teach the younger children about the stories in the Bible.

Lady Becca described Jesus as both God and man but a man like no other. She gave examples: He had never lied; never cheated; and never hit his brother, not even once. She said, “Lots of people liked Jesus because he was good at fixing things. Many people hated him because they didn’t know him very well.”

“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Jesus’ words as recorded in Mark 11:45 (NIV). Photo by Kelly Bixby

Alex added, “Other people had no feelings whatsoever about him, because they had never heard of him.”

Max took the piece of paper that Lady Becca held out to him. He noticed that it was shaped like a hand, so he held the paper up and compared it to his own. His palm fit inside the paper’s edges almost perfectly. It was as if Max had spread his fingers wide, plopped them upon a single sheet of paper, pencilled up and down, around and around, and then cut along all the lines to end up with the paper he was now holding. Max followed Lady Becca’s instructions and wrote his name in crayon on the front of it.

Lady Becca’s red velvet gown swept the floor as she continued moving about the room, passing from person to person, with the goal of giving everyone their own hand-shaped sheet of paper. She wore a stretchy silver fabric band around her head. It had one lone ruby-colored jewel in the center and wasn’t meant to look like a more elaborate, richly adorned crown. After all, she wasn’t “Queen Becca.” But she was dressed like someone who belonged in a castle.

When Lady Becca walked towards Lily, the tallest girl in the class, Max could see Lily’s eyes widen in anticipation. He didn’t think it was the paper she was excited about, however. He saw that she longingly eyed the bejeweled, golden scepter in Lady Becca’s left hand. The decorative staff was just slightly taller than Lily herself, who was about four-feet tall. Purple and gold ribbons streamed from the top of it to halfway down. Max guessed that each girl in the class was hoping for the opportunity to run around waving the fancy stick in the air and making the ribbons fly.

“Get rid of all the frilly stuff, and that stick just might come in handy,” Max muttered to himself. Then he heard the girls collectively sigh when their teacher tucked the prop under one arm so she could finish passing out sheets of paper.

Lady Becca said that everybody except Jesus sins. Max thought that didn’t make sense, because everybody knows the only things babies do are eat, sleep, cry and poop. Sometimes they smile too, but that’s just when they have gas. (He had heard that from Alex, who was too polite to say, “fart.”) How could they do anything wrong? They’re babies. Maybe Lady Becca didn’t know what she was talking about.

After thinking more about it, though, Max realized that Alex couldn’t be completely right either. Max was able to make Alex’s baby brother, Theo, smile just about any time Max tried. All he had to do was look Theo right in the eyes and make a big and wide smile first. A lot of times, he also made Theo giggle by doing that. There wasn’t gas at all.

It was nearly Max’s turn to stick his sheet of paper onto the Styrofoam cross that leaned against a makeshift wall inside the classroom. The paper was meant to represent one of Max’s sins, and the cross represented the real, wooden one Jesus died on. Around the top hung a crown of thorns similar to the one Roman soldiers had used to jab into Jesus’ head to torture him and make fun of him. This was serious.

Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus sacrificed himself so that people’s sins could be forgiven. Couldn’t God just change the rules? God can do anything He wants! Why did God want Jesus to die? Max was beginning to see how little he understood sin.

Max wasn’t quite certain if he was wrong by not sharing his sword with Aiden. “He should have brought his own. This one’s mine, and that kid might ruin it,” Max reasoned. Yet somehow, deep inside, he didn’t feel very good.

Max thought Aiden looked kind of sad. He remembered feeling that way himself just last week when Alex rode her bike over to visit. She brought an ice-cream sandwich. It was Max’s favorite and she knew it. She hadn’t given him even a tiny bite and ate the whole thing in front of him!

Lady Becca encouraged the class to study the Bible whenever they had questions about how God wants them to behave. She assured them that God wants what is best for them. She said, “God wrote a really long love note and sent his Word for all people. Sometimes it might seem confusing, but the more you read the Bible, the more you’ll come to understand how God wants you to live.”

Max thought, “Alex should take a look at what the Bible says about sharing.”

A moment later, Max surprised Aiden by lending him his sword. Then, the brave-hearted knight, Sir Max, approached the cross and let Jesus take away his sin.

Deadwood Writers Voices

Exploring writing with & for writers and readers.

Tag Archives: Family

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