Newtown

This post was written for a personal blog for my 2 month old daughter. But, I thought it might be pertinent here too. Blessings, Rebecca

Dear Clara,

I was planning to finally update the blog this weekend. I was going to finally write about Thanksgiving and post pictures of you in your many Christmas outfits. Somehow, that doesn’t seem like the right thing to do.

I hope that by the time you read this, you will know what happened at Newtown, and that it hasn’t become so commonplace a thing that Newtown is just one in a string of episodes of indescribable violence. I hope that it doesn’t feel normal and that we haven’t become desensitized to utter tragedy.

For the past few days, I’ve spent a lot of time holding you, baptizing your soft head with the tears I’ve wept for those parents who will never hold their sweet babies again. I’ve prayed and watched the news and read the news stories about the heroic teachers. I’ve talked about it with family and friends, none of us being able to find the words to describe the unspeakable horror and what it means to live in a world where something like this could happen. I can’t even imagine how it would be to wake up one day to an empty bed where you used to sleep, and I think about those mommas and daddies all day long.

Yesterday, we took you to the children’s Christmas pageant at church, and I gave thanks the whole hour for all the beautiful children in that room. Singing their hearts out on the stage and watching intently from the floor in the aisles and sitting on their parents laps and standing up in the chairs for a better view. All those little minds and bodies and spirits with futures as wide open as the sky. And I wondered why, in heaven’s name, do we get to be the people who are sitting at a Christmas pageant instead of waiting for news at a fire house this weekend. I asked God to keep all of you safe and to help you be the people who will change our world for the better.

Clara, there are a lot of things that I could say. I could talk about gun control or our mental health care system. And those are worthy conversations, ones that are important for your future and ones that we need to have.

But that’s not my area of expertise, and so I’ll talk about what I know.

I won’t pretend to be an expert on God, but if I didn’t talk about faith now, mine sure wouldn’t be worth much. And if you don’t wonder where God is when children die, then I haven’t done my job to pass it on to you.

I’ve thought a lot about where God is in the past couple of days. Indeed, it sometimes seems like a Godless world. And there are all these posts going around facebook about how God isn’t in our schools anymore because we told him to leave.

But those are lies. Nobody can tell God to leave. God is so much bigger than that.

And so, where was God?

God was wiping away the tears of terrified children.

God was giving courage to the teachers who performed incredible acts of valor.

God was welcoming Dawn, Victoria, Mary, Anne Marie, Rachel, and Lauren with the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

God was gathering up and holding twenty little babies because God has the biggest arms ever.

God was steadying the hands and strengthening the hearts of the first responders.

God was giving words to the men and women who had to tell parents that their children were not coming home.

God was working in the hearts of the nation, giving us compassion for people we will never know.

But I think more than anything else, God was and is weeping with us. God is mourning with the parents of those twenty little kids. God is wailing because the children are no more.

Because next week, we will celebrate the God who comes.

That’s what is different about our God. God comes to us as a baby and lives among us as a child. God loves us like a father and a mother. God walks with us through our darkest hours and celebrates even our smallest moments of light.

Our God comes.

God with us. Weeping with us, laughing with us, singing with us.

Immanuel.

And in that, there is hope.

Love, Momma

The Way We’ve Always Done It

Last Tuesday, I forgot my lunch. Then staff meeting went long (which is actually pretty unusual), and in the end, I had about 25 minutes to get lunch, get back to the church, and eat before I had to leave to tutor. I approached Wendy’s (the Baja Salad is great!) and immediately started to park my car even though there was nobody at all in the Drive-Thru.

Why?

Well, there’s a really good reason. I almost parked because I always park.

And I wish I could tell you that it’s because I have some principle against drive-thrus. That I believe one should have to walk inside and slow down. Or that I think it’s wasteful to use the gas to sit there (which it can be, if the line is long). But the truth is not either of those things.

I always park because I used to have a broken driver’s side window motor.

It was fixed in July of last year after it failed inspection.

Now, I don’t go to the drive-thru often. Probably not even once a month.

But still. That was 7 months ago. And I paid a solid $300 to be able to use that window.

Why am I telling you about my window? Because I think we get caught up in this pattern so easily in the church. The nature of congregational work means that it is passed down from one person to another.

And it means that they way we are doing things might not be the best way. It’s just the way that we do them.

So this year, at Christ Church, we’re looking to try things a new way. We are trying not to do things a certain way because we used to have a broken window. We’re inspecting our structure to see if it works for who we are now and for who God is calling us to be. We’re hoping to add some more staff to help us (all of us) live more faithful lives rooted in a deeper spirituality. We’re going to break out of old patterns that don’t fit and try on new ones that reflect our understanding of how we live into God’s kingdom here and now.

But before we can do all of that, we really need to hear your voice. Yes, your voice. You, sitting behind that computer screen or holding that smartphone. Especially now, parents of nursery, preschool, and elementary aged kids are an important part of the conversation about where we’re headed. There was a day in September when 30% of those gathered to worship were 10 years old or younger. On a normal Sunday, it’s around 25%. Do you know what a rare and special gift that is? Come to a listening session so we can hear you.

And we need to hear from your children, too. No one has to convince me of the value of the dreams of children. Bring them to the listening sessions too. They’ll see things that we’ve forgotten to see. They’ll remind us of the possibilities that exist with our great, great God, and they won’t be afraid to dream too big. They’ll consider constructing an amusement park. They’ll imagine an outdoor arena for Christian rock concerts on our property. They’ll ask us to build a shelter for the homeless in our backyard.

Come on. Let’s go!

Grace and Peace, Rebecca

P.S. Make sure to sign up: http://www.christchurchrichmond.com/christchurch21

P.P.S. I was not paid to advertise Wendy’s Baja Salad. But maybe I should have been.

Thinking Orange: Set a Goal

So, I did it.

This morning, I registered for the Patrick Henry Half Marathon on Saturday morning. I may be the slowest person in the race, but that’s ok. My goal isn’t about time, it’s about distance. I just want to finish the race.

And, although I only officially registered for the race this morning, I really began training in April.

Well, really, I guess I began training a few years ago when I started running. I was a pretty casual runner for a long time–going 4 months and running 3 to 4 miles a few times a week. Then in January I joined the 10K training team and realized that with a goal, I was considerably more committed. Crossing those training runs off my calendar with a big purple marker gave me considerable joy. Crossing the finish line on race day felt awesome.

So, after the 10K I decided I needed another goal, and that’s when half marathon training entered the picture.

Folks, I have run 10 miles (ok, I had to walk a couple of minutes) TWICE.  10 slow miles, but 10 miles nonetheless.

I have all the requisite battle scars that runners get. I’ve had a bloody toe from not cutting my toenails fast enough. I’ve almost lost a toenail. I’m pretty sure there is something growing out of the side of my big toe on my left foot, and I’m truly too embarrassed to get a pedicure because I feel it would inflict unneccessary harm on the person giving it. I’ve got tan lines on my legs and arms. I have moved social events to accommodate my long runs and gotten up obscenely early to get them in when it was really not.

After 8 months of legitimate training, I am ready for the race. I am in far better shape than I think I have ever been in my life, and it all started with a

GOAL.

This morning, I was thinking about how to explain to folks why we’re making so many changes to Kids’ Quest, and as someone with a hobby is wont to do, I naturally gravitated to an analogy about running.

We started with the goal and worked backwards.

Our goal is for your kids to become faithful adults who give of their time, talents, and treasure to serve Christ as lifelong disciples. This is what we believe that God desires for your children as well.

Then, we had to work backwards.

This is what my training plan looks like:

It includes long, slow runs, short runs, cross training, weight lifting, stretching, and rest. This plan tells me how to reach my goal. It starts at the end and works backwards. It’s not the tools, it’s not the goal–it’s the strategy.

That’s what we’re doing with this new format for Kids’ Quest. We are looking ahead to what we ultimately want for your children and working backwards.

And we believe that this format provides the strategy to get there.

More on that later this week…

Blessings, Rebecca

My Council of Elders. Or, the Importance of Intergenerational Relationships

Erin. John. John (a different one). Henry. Margie. My Mammy. Jim. Kevin. Barry. Olin. Jan.

These are just some of the people in my life who are older than me. Some are old enough to be my grandparents (and one is!). Some are only old enough to be my older sibling. Some are in between–maybe old enough to be my aunt or uncle.

They have one thing in common: they have all imparted wisdom at an important juncture in my life.

Erin encouraged me to use gifts I didn’t know that I possessed.

John saw a calling when I didn’t.

The other John I count as a very dear friend, almost a grandfather to me, who will always be a listening ear and will always, always check in with me about my spiritual life.

Henry is a dear professor who I can always count on for keen insight about my vocation.

Margie is an excellent advisor on all things, both personal and vocational.

My Mammy is quite possibly the kindest person and best example of a Christian life I have ever known, whose door is always, and has always been, open for her grandchildren.

Jim is a fantastic college professor who opened my eyes to the beauty of literature and always has the best one-liners.

Kevin is another fantastic college professor who helped me wrestle with my faith, but maybe more importantly, helped me through the most difficult week of my college years, when my family was in crisis, and I had finals.

Barry and Olin are ministers under whom I worked. Both are men of vision and integrity, and gave me wisdom in both of those areas.

Jan is a trusted Christian Education mentor who sought me out and spent time with me even when she was busy.

Did you notice that none of these people are my parents? That’s not because my parents aren’t important (I know that I’ve written about each of them individually); it’s because every kid/adolescent/young adult needs adults in their life that are imparting the same values as their parents.

Some of us on the staff are reading Think Orange, and in it, Reggie Joiner posits five things that every kid needs. One thing is:

Another voice saying the same things parents say.

I was listening to a podcast recently by another children’s minister, and he shared what this has meant for his family.

He and his wife have already chosen these voices for their children. He is not leaving them up to chance. They are already actively forming relationships with his young children, so that when they get to be teenagers, they will already have responsible adult mentors who don’t have to start from scratch with them.

I wonder what it would look like for you to do that. Who would you ask? How would you ask them?

Blessings, Rebecca

Why I Cheated Last Night, and Maybe You Should Too!

Via http://www.sxc.hu/profile/justfine

I cheated last night. Obviously, not on my husband, but I did attend worship at another church. It’s no secret that I can’t be in worship on Sunday mornings due to my Kids’ Quest responsibilities. What most people don’t know (except Saturday night worshipers!) is that I normally attend worship at our Saturday night service. Normally, this works out really well for me. My husband, Rafael, and I arrive at church around 4:30 on Saturday afternoon and set up the Education Building for Kids’ Quest. Then I make sure that the Saturday evening Kids’ Quest leaders are all set to go, and I head to worship with Rafael. Normally.

But the past few weeks have been abnormal. Last Saturday (3/26), I was leading Kids’ Quest, so I didn’t get to attend the whole worship service. This Saturday (4/2) I had worked on Friday night and was taking the whole day off from church (remember that one day Sabbath commandment?). So that makes two weekends and no worship. What’s a woman to do? Well, in a city the size of Richmond, it’s pretty easy to find a worship service to attend that will fit just about any schedule.

And so I did. And so I do on occasion.

And it was fantastic. As I was walking in, I wasn’t thinking about a list of responsibilities or people I needed to catch up with. I wasn’t worried about whether the leaders had adequate supplies. Nobody touched me on the shoulder as I was preparing my heart for worship to ask about VBS (which is totally ok, by the way; please catch me when you can!). I didn’t have to jump right up after the sermon to go get the Kids’ Quest folks. I was anonymous to everyone except for Jesus, and it was sooooooo good! It was all about me worshiping God just as God’s child, not as a children’s minister or even a wife or friend.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Nothing makes me happier than Christ Church on a Sunday morning! Yesterday, I got to do the following really awesome things:

• Chat with a two-year-old for 10 minutes who wouldn’t even say “Hi!” to me 6 months ago.
• Comfort a crying three-year-old who was in Kids’ Quest for the first time (and it worked! She was fine).
• Catch up with four wonderful volunteers about their lives.
• Hand out Egg Hunt invitations with a fabulous 2nd grade helper to a whole lot of kids who are excited to invite their friends.
• Teach 2nd and 3rd graders and watch them make the story of the resurrection come to life through art and drama.
• Talk to a 4th grader who really wanted to know about Pentecost about where to find the story in his Bible.
• Hear from a young friend about his trip to Disney world.

And trust me, those things were really awesome. I came home in a great mood from having served all morning. I love serving at Christ Church, mostly because I love all of you so much.

But service is just not enough. In fact, service without worship, prayer, and scripture study can be empty at best and frighteningly misguided at worst. So if you are not able to regularly attend worship because of your ministry responsibilities, maybe you should do some cheating too!

As the leader of a ministry, it is my responsibility to set an example of how to live a Christian life. I take it really seriously. And worship is an essential, if not the most essential, component of living as a faithful Christian in the world.

But more than all of that, I need to worship. As our music ministry’s logo goes, I was made to worship. I love to worship. I love that in worship, I can bring my sorrows, my fears, and my joys; my whole self, the parts that are beautiful, the parts that are ugly, and everything in between to meet Jesus, and that he will find me no matter where I am. Because before I am anything else in this world, I am a child of God.

And you are too.

Blessings, Rebecca

Why Being in the Band Was Good: Or, Mediocre is OK

Da da da da da da da HONK da da da da da HONK da. “Darn!” That’s what my clarinet practicing often sounded like. I started playing the clarinet in 6th grade, and with 4 years of piano behind me, one would have thought that I would have an advantage over my peers who had never been exposed to music. One would have thought so quite incorrectly.

 

 

It’s not that I was awful, but I definitely wasn’t what one would have called good. In high school, when we started playing for seats, I (except for one year when I had to try out while battling mononucleosis and ended up at the bottom) always landed in the middle, often right in the very middle.

It wasn’t a comfortable place for me to be. I was that kid who brought home a 97 upset about the 3 points that I had missed. I liked to be good at things, and I wasn’t good at this. No matter how much time and effort I put into it, I was never going to be a great clarinet player. I could see that the kids who were at the top had a way of playing that seemed as effortless as breathing. I know they spent a lot of time working on their skill, but I could tell that there was a natural talent there that I just didn’t possess.

 

But I stuck with it, mostly because my parents wouldn’t let me quit. I played that thing until my graduation from high school.

 

And I’m glad I did. I learned a lot of things from being in the band, like: showing up early is almost always the right thing to do

being overdressed is better than being underdressed

winning with a team is more fun than winning by yourself

if you don’t want to be stressed, become a short order cook

 

But even more than all of those little life lessons, I learned this one really big important one: being mediocre at something is alright. I didn’t have to be great at everything. I could still choose to do something, even if I wasn’t the best.

 

It’s served me well. I have to do all sorts of things that I am not really that good at all the time! I am notorious (at least with my husband) for forgetting one ingredient but buying everything else for a meal. I am a runner with asthma (read: slow and inconsistent). I have a really awful memory about events (give me numbers!), but I plan them. I am an introvert with a public ministry.

 

To be sure, I am very blessed to spend most of my time doing things for which I have a natural talent: being in relationship with and teaching kids, communicating ideas and information, providing a listening ear for parents, organizing people and things, etc.

But I’m not ashamed of being really mediocre at those other things that I have to do, and I don’t put a lot of pressure on myself to get really good at them, because I think that that is mostly a waste of time.

 

And I know that from experience, but I also know it because of the first two questions in the Westminster Shorter Catechism, which are posted on my desk, and which I see every day:

 

Who are you? I am a child of God.

 

What is the chief end of humankind? To glorify God and enjoy him forever.

 

And because of these two truths, I am allowed to be mediocre at some things and great at others. Because we are all naturally gifted to glorify God, whether we do it by playing the clarinet or loving on little ones.

 

Blessings, Rebecca

My Calling: Part 2

This is the second in a series about my calling.  Read part 1 here.

I think that actually figuring out what I was called to do was the hard part. Everything that happened after that was much, much easier.

The first thing that happened was that we clarified that call just a little bit.

My heart had been, has been, and always will be with the children and youth. I am eternally grateful for the many opportunties that I had to serve as a volunteer when I was young.  Who lets an 18 year old teach three-year-old Sunday School class? Better, who sends one on a retreat with a small church to run an entire children’s program? Who sends a 21-year-old as a youth mission trip chaperone 3 states away? People who are grooming future ministry leaders, that’s who!

Because of these opportunities, I knew what I wanted to do. So, John contacted some churches who were looking for staff people in those areas.

It could not have been more than 48 hours before I received a call from Beth at First Presbyterian Church in Orangeburg, SC. Now, having been an Orangeburger, I believe I can say that it has a reputation for being the armpit of the state. I think that’s wholly exxaggerated, but let’s just say that it is less than the bustling metropolis where most graduating college seniors are looking to relocate. But as soon as I stepped foot on that campus, I knew.

This was it. There was not even a moment of doubt in my mind. The people were great, the interview was fun, we were on the same page, but more than that, I had this feeling of peace that I had not had in… well… ever.

It’s not my practice to spend a lot of time talking about my time at another church, mostly because I don’t want people to think I’m comparing the places I have served with one another, so I won’t do that here. I will say that First Presbyterian is a place full of grace and spirit, truth and love. I made a lot of mistakes, many of them from inexperience and some from stubborness. They forgave me every one, and I grew in ways that I probably could have never imagined. My first place of service will always hold a special place in my heart.

But after three years, it became clear that some of my mistakes weren’t just from inexperience; they were from lack of education. I had soaked up every continuing education opportunity that I could. There was always a minstry book on my nightstand, and I went to every conference or workshop that I could afford, but there was something else missing. It was time to get that missing piece, so in the Fall of 2007, I headed to Union Presbyterian Seminary here in Richmond to work on a degree in Christian Education. While there, I had the tremendous blessing of living out my vocation (part-time) at two churches that were not only completely different from one another, but were also completely different from anywhere I had ever attended. Especially during my second year, I enjoyed being at The Gayton Kirk, because that congregation is so open to new things! I could try out all sorts of stuff that I was learning with them, and they were supportive. It was another awesome place to be.

As graduation approached, I knew it was time to be on the move again. I applied for positions in several different places, praying always, “God, let your will be done…. but if you wanted us to stay in Richmond since Rafael has a job here, I could work with that, or maybe we could move closer to our parents, too.” Just kidding; I didn’t really add that last part, and I was really careful not to try to put my call in a box. So it happened that Christ Church had posted a Children’s Minister position on the seminary placement office website, and I applied. I went to intervews at a few other churches, but it happened again when I came here.

I just knew.

After my first interview here, I called my husband and told him that if I knew God as well as I thought I did, that we would probably be staying in town. I had such a great time with the search committee, sensing even then that the women in the room would become some of the people with whom I would work so closely, and that I would love being here. My interview with Paul was a little more intimidating, but even then, I could sense that we had a shared vision and that I would fit in here just fine. I’m not going to lie; I was totally terrified by coming onto staff at a church this size, but I knew that this is where I should be, and I had that peace, just as I have always had wherever I have served.

And that is how I came to be at Christ Church. What about you?

My Calling: Part 1

I had a plan, you know. If you know me, you shouldn’t be surprised that I had a plan. When I was 22, and college graduation was a few months away, I knew that I was going to graduate school to get a degree in higher education and student affairs. I had applied to three different programs and been accepted to all of them. The next step was to get a graduate assistantship; this would pay my tuition and give me some stipend money for living expenses.

Only I didn’t get one, which left me with two options: student loans or no school.

I think we’ve talked about my feelings on debt before, and this was no exception. I had heart palpitations at the idea of student loans, so that was not really an option for me.

With no plan, I despaired. My dad drove up to take me out for ice cream and assure me that I was not going to be homeless, which made me feel a little bit better. My mom said she knew what I was going to end up doing but that she couldn’t tell me because I wouldn’t listen to her. 

“Well,” I said, you really can’t leave me hanging like that.  I’m desperate!”

“I think you’re going to work in the church,” she said.

She was right. About the not listening to her part, that is. We had been over this at least a thousand times. I was going to be a super involved parishioner. Look at me go! I had already volunteered as a chaperone for youth mission trips, taught 3 year old Sunday School, been on a weekend retreat with a small church to do their children’s program, volunteered with the kids at the homeless shelter, and been a tutor at an inner city school on a regular basis. See, mom? Really passionate parishioner! 

I wanted to keep my passion for Jesus and the church separate from my work because I never wanted to resent it the way some people end up resenting their jobs. I didn’t want to be disillusioned and burned out on the church because it was my safe place, and I was scared that making it my job would risk all of that.

“Silly girl,” my mom said, “Don’t you know that the happiest people are the ones who are passionate about their work? Separating your passion and your work will only ensure that your job in unfulfilling.”

Hmph. That made me feel kind of dumb. But since it was coming from my mom, I brushed it off.

The next day I received a phone call from my campus minister.  He wondered if I was coming to dinner the following night.

“What dinner?”

“The one for people I think should consider going into ministry. Didn’t you get the invitation in your campus mailbox?”

I couldn’t go to the whole dinner because I had a housing department banquet, but I went for long enough to get this book.

Well no, I did not want to be a pastor. But I was interested in ministry with youth and children.

The next week was kind of a blur.  There was a lot of running (literally, not figuratively), a lot of sitting on the state house steps (my prayer place at that time), and a lot of conversations. Finally, I called my campus minister back. 

“Something weird is going on.” I told him about my week.  He said these words I will never forget.  “I think you are experiencing a call to ministry.  Let’s have lunch.”

And that is how, over an STP sandwich at Groucho’s, I decided to meld my passion and my work. 

But that is just the beginning. More next week on how I actually got a job, and then more later on how I came to be in this place with you wonderful people.

P.S. I got offered a graduate assistantship the next week. I guess God had a plan too.

Advent Idea: Chrismons

http://www.uccmedford.org/worship.html

Back in November, the 4th and 5th graders made Chrismons for the Chrismon tree in the Education Building.  A Chrismon is a “Christ monogram,” and the purpose of the Chrismon tree is to ensure that the focus of the decorations is on the birth of the Christ child.

I intended to take a picture of our little Chrismon tree, but the weather has prevented that.  Anyway, even if you don’t do a whole extra tree, why not consider making some Chrismons together for your tree?  The kids really enjoyed learning the meaning behind the symbols, and it could be a great way for them to teach your friends and family who come to visit about this really awesome Christmas tradition.

So, here’s a link about how to make Chrismons, including some patterns.

And here’s a link about the history of Chrismons. 

What do I think is the coolest thing about Chrismons?  They can’t be bought!  You have to make them yourself or receive them as a gift, which means at least this part of Christmas can’t be about buy, buy, buy.

Prayer Workshop

So, about a month ago now, our congregation had an event to replace our fall retreat.  Brother Geoffrey Tristam, from the Society of St. John the Evangelist, came to be with the adults to talk about prayer.  When the committee came to me and asked me to put together a program for the children to coincide with it, I was beyond thrilled.  Prayer practices (or any kind of spiritual practices) for kids is one of those things that makes me totally geek out.  When I emailed Sybil Macbeth to find out if I could use one of her drawings in the booklet for kids, and SHE herself actually emailed me back THAT DAY I felt like a preteen girl being invited onstage at a Justin Bieber concert.  Groupie.  Anyway, all that is to say that I get really excited about kids and spiritual practices, which is why it was even more awesome that this day with the kids went so very well.  It was like a little piece of heaven.

Before we get into the day, I would be remiss if I didn’t thank the four women (three seminary students and one graduate) who came in and taught.  Thank you Andrea, Caryn, Cathy, and Kim.  You did marvelous work!  It was a special joy to just take pictures and participate knowing that everything was in excellent hands.

So, first things first, I want to give you links to the materials I designed for the event:

The Leader Guide

The Older Child Booklet

The Younger Child Booklet

I invite you to use them all you want!  If you would like Word documents so that you can adapt them, just shoot me an email (r.guzman@christchurchrichmond.com).  Fair warning, I’m really fond of using my own fonts, so they might come out a little funky on your computer.

Now, onto the prayer practices.  The younger kids (ages 4 through second grade) did six: Drawing, Music, Centering, Labyrinth, Counting, Dancing, and Rhythm.  The older kids also did six: Drawing, Music, Centering, Labyrinth, Walking, and Casting.

Photo Caveat: As you can imagine, older kids have a different kind of holy than younger kids.  Because the younger kids holy time was still kind of loud and messy, there are many more photos of them.  Most of the time, taking pictures of the older kids would have interrupted the amazing quiet and sacredness that came over their time together.  You can’t catch that in an image, anyway….

Drawing prayer can be done in several different ways.  We used the previously mentioned Sybil Macbeth’s method for kids.  Incidentally, you can buy the book we used here.

This is what it looked like:

In the center block, you can see where they have written a name for God.  The outer shapes are all people or things for which they are praying.

We also prayed using Taize music.  This went a lot better with the older kids than with the younger ones, but we had one second grader who spent all of her free time in the Taize music room soaking it in:

I didn’t take any pictures during Centering prayer time for either group, but we used this book:

Everyone enjoyed walking the Labyrinth:

The younger kids danced for Jesus:

You can’t tell from this picture, but the older kids have just cast their cares (in the form of a stone) into the woods as a symbol of giving them to God:

And here they are praying for the people who reside in the house in the photo:

While the younger kids were making daisy chains for prayers of intercession and thanksgiving:

Each child was anointed before s/he left.

It was a holy day.

And a happy day.

And all God’s people said Amen!