If you reach the heart of the children, you can win a nation. During the triumphant entry of Jesus the children were crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” Matthew 21:15 Hosanna means “He saves”. Jesus had won the hearts of the children. The children realized that Jesus was their Messiah and Savior. Many people were shouting ‘Hosanna” that day, but it caught the attention of the religious leaders that children were on board. “Do you hear what these (children) are saying?” they angrily asked Jesus. They became keenly aware that their religious rule and reign was coming to an end because Jesus had won the hearts of the children.
I have experienced this same reaction from government authorities in Communist countries. In most Communist countries you can share the Gospel with adults and you will probably not suffer persecution. I am not talking about open preaching but casually sharing to inquisitive individuals. If you get caught sharing the Gospel to children and youth under 18 years of age, you are in trouble. The Communists and other oppressive governments know that once the children and youth of a nation realize truth, their oppressive rule is a generation away from ending.
During the late nineties and into the early part of this millennium I took numerous trips to Viet Nam. Viet Nam has the fastest growing children’s ministry in the world. The under ground church became ultimately aware about the importance to reaching the children and youth. Thousands of children were coming to Christ during this time. I once spoke to a pastor who estimated that he pastored 12,000 adults and over 100,000 children throughout Vietnam. I visited hidden places where hundreds of street children were given food and clothes while at the same time had the love of Jesus presented to them in fun and relevant ways.
The children’s workers in Vietnam were desperate to be trained by the ministry teams that I was a part of. We would find secluded places and teach and train from morning until night. They hung on every word we taught. They reminded me of baby birds when the mother arrives at the nest with a juicy worm. In order to be relevant in children’s ministry you have to be able to learn to use puppets, sculpture with balloons, teach using flannel graphs, and other visuals that will help you communicate to children. Using flannel graph figures in the US churches is considered old fashion and out of date. In Viet Nam the flannel graphs are priceless as it gives Sunday School teachers a way to visually make the Bible stories come alive. The flannel graphs that we used were purchased at a missionaries’ discount from Betty Lukens. They came as large flannel sheets with the the Bible characters and scenes needing to be cut out. Cutting them out was very laborious but carrying in the uncut sheets made it very convenient to get through the tight security at the Viet Nam airports. Going through the Xray machines the flannel graphs just appear as folded cloth.
The church workers in Viet Nam would get so excited to open our suitcases filled with these flannel Bible stories. The children in Viet Nam loved them and they also provided a way to teach the illiterate tribal people!
In my years of ministry from the inner cities of America to third world village churches I have been blessed to see whole families come to the Lord as the result of reaching one child. During my first year serving as an intern children’s pastor in Singapore we would receive children into our kids church while their Buddhist parents would go shopping. They thought we were the best deal in town for child care! Those same parents today are serving the Lord and we have seen salvation extend to their brother, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, nieces and nephews.
Drug addicts in the rough inner city communities of America would bring their younger brothers, sisters and their own children and make them sit and listen to our program. They knew the hopelessness of their situations and desperately wanted a different life for these children. We would visit the children in their homes only to hear a voice crying out somewhere in the house begging, “Pastor Tim, pray for me. I’m hooked on drugs!” Some found the deliverance they so desperately needed through those prayers and visits.
Studies have shown and I am convinced that most parents will choose a church based on the quality of the children’s ministry. The current Barna Group study indicates that nearly half of all Americans who accept Jesus Christ as their Savior do so before reaching the age of 13 (43%), and that two out of three born again Christians (64%) made that commitment to Christ before their 18th birthday. People who become Christian before their teen years are more likely than those who are converted when older to remain "absolutely committed" to Christianity.
Most churches spend most of their resources trying to evangelize adults while their greatest return on that investment happens with youth and children. If the church was judged on its stewardship like corporations are, church decision makers would start losing their jobs. How can you continue to invest where there are less returns and survive. We can’t! 3500 to 4000 churches are closing their doors each year in America! I am not saying to give up reaching the adults but we need to take more of our church budgets and invest them in reaching children and youth.
Jesus taught us in Matthew 18: 5-6 about the importance of embracing the children and the severity of causing them to stumble:
“And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” Matthew 18:5-6
One chapter later the disciples seem to have forgotten what Jesus had just taught them. People were bringing their children to Jesus and the disciples are trying to chase them away!
“Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there.“ Matthew 19:13-14
The church once again needs to hear these words and commands from Jesus concerning children. I have shuttered at hearing churches say that the reason they do not do more to reach children is because the children do not pay tithes! My experience has shown me that Jesus pours out the resources of heaven upon those who compassionately endeavor to reach children with His love. Shame on every church board member and decision maker for denying the children’s ministry the resources necessary to effectively do the work of the ministry of evangelizing and discipling children.
I have watched churches that have had great growth over the years. A vast majority of those churches had two major focuses, missions and children’s ministry. I believe these two areas of concentration within a church will touch the heart of God. I once heard a song called ‘Who Will Reach The Children?” I am so glad that years ago I said, “Lord, send me!”
Showing posts with label children's ministry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children's ministry. Show all posts
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Friday, October 15, 2010
CHAPTER 4 TRIED AND TESTED
I believe that every person who is called to serve the Lord will have that call tested and tried. Often the Lord allows these trials to seal that call. Like Abraham in Genesis 22, He can prove our faith in Him to Himself, others and ourselves. Abraham’s faith was strengthened through the struggle and obedience of offering up his son, Isaac.
There are other times when the devil will throw his trials at us seeking to murder God’s purpose for us. The Word of God tells in John 10:10 that He seeks to kill, steal and destroy. If he cannot physically cut our life short he will seek to murder and destroy our God given call and purpose.
I was enjoying the ministry of Royal Rangers at our church. Royal Rangers is a ministry to boys that is much like Boy Scouts except it is very purposeful in developing the boy’s spiritual life while teaching outdoor and camping skills. After making sure that each boy had personally accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior, the ministry also taught each boy how to share their faith and lead others to Christ. While teaching they boys I was also learning scriptures and values of leading others to Jesus. I love the outdoors and this was a great way for me to serve Jesus by serving in this wonderful ministry.
It was during this time that I met my wife, Debra. She was also involved in children’s ministry. She was the four year old Sunday School teacher. Our church was large so although I noticed her at a Christmas party for the children’s workers, I did not get to know her until later. We met at a Realtor’s early morning prayer time. It was all over from that point. After a short engagement we were married.
Debra asked me to help her teach the four year olds on Sunday mornings. I agreed to help her but only as a helper. I was the one who handed out the snacks and made sure the rowdy boys would behave. I was still involved with the Royal Rangers but I also took a back seat as far as teaching. I did not have confidence to stand up in front of the children and teach or lead. I was comfortable in an assistant role.
One day Debra approached me and said that she believed that a man should be teaching the children. I resisted but her persistence paid off and I agreed to try teaching the little ones. She passed her Sunday School teaching manual to me and I nervously prepared. Sunday was here and it was time to embark in this new role. My wife led the children in songs. Now, it was my time to teach. I was so nervous that I felt like throwing up and I had to go the bathroom every five minutes. It was time for the lesson. The teaching manual trembled in my hands. I fearfully stuttered and stammered through the lesson. It was so terrible but the children were naïve to it all. They seemed to enjoy a man teaching, especially the boys. They seemed to be more behaved during the teaching. I appreciate all the women Sunday School teachers over the years but something is special about a man teaching children the Word of God. Maybe it is because the lack of so many fathers in the homes due to rise of divorce, even in Christian homes.
The children’s pastor who invited me into the ministry moved on. I remember something he said very vividly before he left. He was going on to pastor a church in another town in Virginia. I approached him and commented to him, “So, you are moving up in the ministry to pastor adults?” With all sincerity he corrected me, “No I am actually stepping down. Pastoring children is the greatest call but I have to be obedient and move on.” I have since realized that he was absolutely right. According to statistics by the Barna Group, a child's spiritual identity is largely set by age 13. Eighty-five% of those who make profession of faith do so within the age range of 4 to 14. About 30% of the world's population is age 14 or younger. My heart was dramatically impacted every time I saw a little child pray to receive Jesus into their hearts.
A new Children’s Pastor, Tim White, was hired. We immediately built a relationship. He was an excellent trainer and administrator. He helped organize the children’s ministry and was excellent at empowering leaders. Debra and I started teaching the fourth grade and soon became the Children’s Sunday School Superintendents.
I had really admired Pastor Tim White. The Lord was speaking to my heart about answering the call for full time ministry. I wanted to be like Pastor Tim White. I was feeling the desire to be a children’s pastor. I wanted to be like him and pastor children in a large church. I started telling people that I was called but I was not doing anything to pursue that call.
We are a blended family. My wife had been a single mom for eight years with our two oldest daughters, Elizabeth and Christin. When we married Elizabeth, was nine years old and Christin was fifteen years old. After seventeen months we were blessed with our third daughter, Abigail. She was and is still treasured by all of us as she became the glue that joined all of us as a family.
When Abigail was just over a year old, I was watching Gloria Copeland preach on the television. I was in our living room alone. As Gloria was preaching away she pointed her finger at the camera and proclaimed, “There is someone out there who is telling everyone that you are called to full time ministry but you have not answered the call! You need to get down on your knees and tell the Lord you are answering that call!” I knew immediately that this was me! I got down beside the couch and told the Lord, “Jesus, I am answering the call you have for me, but I have a family. I have bills. If you can take care of all this and make provision I will pursue that call.” I knew when I said this that I would need to go to a Bible School.
As I was getting up off my knees I could hear my wife coming down the stairs. She met me in the living room. She had a very serious look on her face as she informed me that she had just finished praying upstairs and that the Lord told her that I needed to answer His call on my life! With tears in my eyes I told her what had just happened with me, Gloria and the Lord.
The testing was about to begin. I had answered the call on Friday and now it was Sunday evening. The children were doing a special presentation in our evening service. I had to arrive early to help prepare them. Debra’s sister was staying with us and she was driving a sleek and powerful Jaguar car. Debra drove it to church in the morning and she attracted many comments. I drove our car early to church and I neglected to transfer the baby’s car seat into the Jaguar for her to bring Abigail. Church started at seven. It was just a few minutes before and Debra, my children and her sister had not arrived yet. This was unusual especially because Debra was excited to see the children perform in the adult service that evening. I stood at the glass doors of the church as it began to pour down rain. A friend who saw Debra drivng the Jaguar in the morning came out of the rain and asked if Debra was driving the same car that evening. We lived only a half mile from the church. He said that there was an accident by our apartments and the car involved looked like the Jaguar! I began to say to myself, “It’s not her! It’s not her! It’s not her!” The Holy Spirit interrupted me and said “It is her!” I ran into the rain and jumped into my car to drive home. As I got close I saw two ambulances with lights flashing blocking the other side of the road. As I passed them I saw a car had crashed into a telephone pole and shocked out of my mind realized it was the Jaguar!
I jumped out of the car and ran towards the first ambulance. The police and fireman were screaming at me saying that I could not leave my car on the road. They grabbed me but with adrenaline flooding my body I threw them off and pulled open the door of the ambulance. My baby girl was strapped down on a board! My sister-in-law was also in the ambulance with a bloody cloth held to her face. My oldest daughters, Elizabeth and Christin, were also there but they apparently were not hurt. I cried out, “How bad is Abigail hurt and where is mom?” They informed me that they did not know if Abigail was hurt. They thought she was okay but she had been strapped down for precaution. I ran to the other ambulance. Once again police and fireman tried to subdue me to no avail. I threw open the ambulance door and there was Debra with a bloody and fearful face. I informed her that they thought Abigail wasn't hurt badly and then asked which ambulance she wanted me to ride in?
She said she felt like the spirit of death was trying to overcome her and would I please come with her and pray. The EMT’s invited me in and off we went. I held her hand and desperately prayed as the EMT’s worked on her. I bound the spirit of death and began speaking life to my wife. It was at that moment I heard the voice of the devil, “So, you answered the call of God? I am going to take your wife and your daughter! How are you going to serve your God now?” Immediately I thought of the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abnego that we just taught in our Sunday School class. With every bit of faith I could gather up I declared to that thief, “You can take my wife and you can take my daughter but I am still going to serve the Lord my God with everything that is within me!”
I was full of faith and full of fear at the same time. The evil voice left and peace filled the ambulance. The ambulance radio came on at that precise moment and informed the hospital that they were coming in with one woman with leg and head injuries, another with facial injuries and a baby that had no apparent injuries but was restrained for precaution. It was like an angel sent that message to Debra and me. She said that the spirit of death had left.
We arrived at the hospital. Abigail was in one room and Debra in the other. Elizabeth and I were with Abigail. We sang, “Jesus Loves Me” to Abigail. She fought through the fear and tears and barely moved her tiny lips to sing with us. The doctor arrived and started to examine her. She was strapped down from head to toe. He felt her head and although she was crying she did not wince in any pain as he checked her head and neck area. He unstrapped her head and neck. He did the same as he worked down to her feet. Removing all the straps he picked her up and told her to walk to me. She ran to me as the doctor said the most comforting words I ever heard, "Nothing is wrong with your daughter.You can take her home!"
We all joined Debra in her room. Debra was not as blessed. She had a broken knee, cuts and minor head injuries. She asked for Abigail and I lifted her into the hospital bed with her. Because I neglected to transfer the Abigail’s car seat, Debra held Abigail in the passenger seat when the car hit the pole. My sister-in-law was driving. It was apparent that Debra, with Abigail in her arms, went into the front window of the car. Miraculously Abigail was not harmed.
This incident sealed the call of God in my life. He later worked out the issues of family, bills and provision. Bible School was in my near future and a life serving Him and reaching hearts of children with love of God around the world.
There are other times when the devil will throw his trials at us seeking to murder God’s purpose for us. The Word of God tells in John 10:10 that He seeks to kill, steal and destroy. If he cannot physically cut our life short he will seek to murder and destroy our God given call and purpose.
I was enjoying the ministry of Royal Rangers at our church. Royal Rangers is a ministry to boys that is much like Boy Scouts except it is very purposeful in developing the boy’s spiritual life while teaching outdoor and camping skills. After making sure that each boy had personally accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior, the ministry also taught each boy how to share their faith and lead others to Christ. While teaching they boys I was also learning scriptures and values of leading others to Jesus. I love the outdoors and this was a great way for me to serve Jesus by serving in this wonderful ministry.
It was during this time that I met my wife, Debra. She was also involved in children’s ministry. She was the four year old Sunday School teacher. Our church was large so although I noticed her at a Christmas party for the children’s workers, I did not get to know her until later. We met at a Realtor’s early morning prayer time. It was all over from that point. After a short engagement we were married.
Debra asked me to help her teach the four year olds on Sunday mornings. I agreed to help her but only as a helper. I was the one who handed out the snacks and made sure the rowdy boys would behave. I was still involved with the Royal Rangers but I also took a back seat as far as teaching. I did not have confidence to stand up in front of the children and teach or lead. I was comfortable in an assistant role.
One day Debra approached me and said that she believed that a man should be teaching the children. I resisted but her persistence paid off and I agreed to try teaching the little ones. She passed her Sunday School teaching manual to me and I nervously prepared. Sunday was here and it was time to embark in this new role. My wife led the children in songs. Now, it was my time to teach. I was so nervous that I felt like throwing up and I had to go the bathroom every five minutes. It was time for the lesson. The teaching manual trembled in my hands. I fearfully stuttered and stammered through the lesson. It was so terrible but the children were naïve to it all. They seemed to enjoy a man teaching, especially the boys. They seemed to be more behaved during the teaching. I appreciate all the women Sunday School teachers over the years but something is special about a man teaching children the Word of God. Maybe it is because the lack of so many fathers in the homes due to rise of divorce, even in Christian homes.
The children’s pastor who invited me into the ministry moved on. I remember something he said very vividly before he left. He was going on to pastor a church in another town in Virginia. I approached him and commented to him, “So, you are moving up in the ministry to pastor adults?” With all sincerity he corrected me, “No I am actually stepping down. Pastoring children is the greatest call but I have to be obedient and move on.” I have since realized that he was absolutely right. According to statistics by the Barna Group, a child's spiritual identity is largely set by age 13. Eighty-five% of those who make profession of faith do so within the age range of 4 to 14. About 30% of the world's population is age 14 or younger. My heart was dramatically impacted every time I saw a little child pray to receive Jesus into their hearts.
A new Children’s Pastor, Tim White, was hired. We immediately built a relationship. He was an excellent trainer and administrator. He helped organize the children’s ministry and was excellent at empowering leaders. Debra and I started teaching the fourth grade and soon became the Children’s Sunday School Superintendents.
I had really admired Pastor Tim White. The Lord was speaking to my heart about answering the call for full time ministry. I wanted to be like Pastor Tim White. I was feeling the desire to be a children’s pastor. I wanted to be like him and pastor children in a large church. I started telling people that I was called but I was not doing anything to pursue that call.
We are a blended family. My wife had been a single mom for eight years with our two oldest daughters, Elizabeth and Christin. When we married Elizabeth, was nine years old and Christin was fifteen years old. After seventeen months we were blessed with our third daughter, Abigail. She was and is still treasured by all of us as she became the glue that joined all of us as a family.
When Abigail was just over a year old, I was watching Gloria Copeland preach on the television. I was in our living room alone. As Gloria was preaching away she pointed her finger at the camera and proclaimed, “There is someone out there who is telling everyone that you are called to full time ministry but you have not answered the call! You need to get down on your knees and tell the Lord you are answering that call!” I knew immediately that this was me! I got down beside the couch and told the Lord, “Jesus, I am answering the call you have for me, but I have a family. I have bills. If you can take care of all this and make provision I will pursue that call.” I knew when I said this that I would need to go to a Bible School.
As I was getting up off my knees I could hear my wife coming down the stairs. She met me in the living room. She had a very serious look on her face as she informed me that she had just finished praying upstairs and that the Lord told her that I needed to answer His call on my life! With tears in my eyes I told her what had just happened with me, Gloria and the Lord.
The testing was about to begin. I had answered the call on Friday and now it was Sunday evening. The children were doing a special presentation in our evening service. I had to arrive early to help prepare them. Debra’s sister was staying with us and she was driving a sleek and powerful Jaguar car. Debra drove it to church in the morning and she attracted many comments. I drove our car early to church and I neglected to transfer the baby’s car seat into the Jaguar for her to bring Abigail. Church started at seven. It was just a few minutes before and Debra, my children and her sister had not arrived yet. This was unusual especially because Debra was excited to see the children perform in the adult service that evening. I stood at the glass doors of the church as it began to pour down rain. A friend who saw Debra drivng the Jaguar in the morning came out of the rain and asked if Debra was driving the same car that evening. We lived only a half mile from the church. He said that there was an accident by our apartments and the car involved looked like the Jaguar! I began to say to myself, “It’s not her! It’s not her! It’s not her!” The Holy Spirit interrupted me and said “It is her!” I ran into the rain and jumped into my car to drive home. As I got close I saw two ambulances with lights flashing blocking the other side of the road. As I passed them I saw a car had crashed into a telephone pole and shocked out of my mind realized it was the Jaguar!
I jumped out of the car and ran towards the first ambulance. The police and fireman were screaming at me saying that I could not leave my car on the road. They grabbed me but with adrenaline flooding my body I threw them off and pulled open the door of the ambulance. My baby girl was strapped down on a board! My sister-in-law was also in the ambulance with a bloody cloth held to her face. My oldest daughters, Elizabeth and Christin, were also there but they apparently were not hurt. I cried out, “How bad is Abigail hurt and where is mom?” They informed me that they did not know if Abigail was hurt. They thought she was okay but she had been strapped down for precaution. I ran to the other ambulance. Once again police and fireman tried to subdue me to no avail. I threw open the ambulance door and there was Debra with a bloody and fearful face. I informed her that they thought Abigail wasn't hurt badly and then asked which ambulance she wanted me to ride in?
She said she felt like the spirit of death was trying to overcome her and would I please come with her and pray. The EMT’s invited me in and off we went. I held her hand and desperately prayed as the EMT’s worked on her. I bound the spirit of death and began speaking life to my wife. It was at that moment I heard the voice of the devil, “So, you answered the call of God? I am going to take your wife and your daughter! How are you going to serve your God now?” Immediately I thought of the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abnego that we just taught in our Sunday School class. With every bit of faith I could gather up I declared to that thief, “You can take my wife and you can take my daughter but I am still going to serve the Lord my God with everything that is within me!”
I was full of faith and full of fear at the same time. The evil voice left and peace filled the ambulance. The ambulance radio came on at that precise moment and informed the hospital that they were coming in with one woman with leg and head injuries, another with facial injuries and a baby that had no apparent injuries but was restrained for precaution. It was like an angel sent that message to Debra and me. She said that the spirit of death had left.
We arrived at the hospital. Abigail was in one room and Debra in the other. Elizabeth and I were with Abigail. We sang, “Jesus Loves Me” to Abigail. She fought through the fear and tears and barely moved her tiny lips to sing with us. The doctor arrived and started to examine her. She was strapped down from head to toe. He felt her head and although she was crying she did not wince in any pain as he checked her head and neck area. He unstrapped her head and neck. He did the same as he worked down to her feet. Removing all the straps he picked her up and told her to walk to me. She ran to me as the doctor said the most comforting words I ever heard, "Nothing is wrong with your daughter.You can take her home!"
We all joined Debra in her room. Debra was not as blessed. She had a broken knee, cuts and minor head injuries. She asked for Abigail and I lifted her into the hospital bed with her. Because I neglected to transfer the Abigail’s car seat, Debra held Abigail in the passenger seat when the car hit the pole. My sister-in-law was driving. It was apparent that Debra, with Abigail in her arms, went into the front window of the car. Miraculously Abigail was not harmed.
This incident sealed the call of God in my life. He later worked out the issues of family, bills and provision. Bible School was in my near future and a life serving Him and reaching hearts of children with love of God around the world.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
CHAPTER 2 BORN AGAIN AGAIN
I got born again beside my bed after just getting done throwing up, after being beaten up, which led me to look up. My life had steadily spun downward until this point. I had been laid off for over a year from working on the railroad. A relationship, in which I was engaged, was heading nowhere. The only good thing happening in my life was a part time janitor’s job working at the local Catholic Church.
My brother got married and started a family while he was still very young. I was a young uncle and I loved spending time with my nieces. I would take them to the zoo and other outings. As a young adult I enjoyed playing with young children. They seemed to really enjoy me too. I am embarrassed to say that I lived with my parents until I was twenty-eight years old. During that time neighborhood children would come knocking at my mom’s door asking if I could play in the yard with them. I guess they saw me as a big brother or maybe a fatherly figure.
Immediately after I prayed to receive Christ I got a stirring to leave home. It was about time! I would still go out with friends and drink but something had changed, it was not fun like it used to be. I felt guilt while sitting at the bars. I sold my hunting rifles and had just enough money to drive to Virginia to start a new life. I packed what little I had into my van and off I went. I was staying at a campground in Virginia Beach. I almost headed back to Pennsylvania when I was filling out a job application and realized that I had no address or phone number to put on the application. It was then that I remembered a friend from high school who was living nearby in Norfolk, Virginia. I called him and told him of my situation. He said I could use his couch until I could secure a job and another place to stay.
One of the priests from the Catholic Church in Pennsylvania referred me to his uncle who had a management position at the Newport News Shipbuilding Company. I met him at his house to fill out the application and within a week I had a job at the Shipyard!
During my time working at the Catholic Church I converted to Catholicism. I did this for two reasons. First, the girl I was engaged to was Catholic. Second, I was feeling a need to know God and the influence of the Capuchin Priests made it a logical choice to convert. They were so kind to me even when I showed up to work hung over. I did not know then what “Charismatic” meant but I now realized that they were “Charismatic Catholics.”
I started attending a Catholic Church in Newport News, Virginia. I had developed many Catholic friends in Pennsylvania and had good fellowship with them. I tried to find the same kind of relationships in Virginia but it was not the same. Western Pennsylvania was predominantly Catholic while Virginia was predominantly Southern Baptist and Pentecostal. The Catholic Church I was attending was not as alive and welcoming as what I had found in Pennsylvania. I was lonely and trying to find Godly friends. The relationship I was in was rocky before I left and trying to keep it going four hundred miles away was not working.
My so-called fiancé in Pennsylvania had left the Catholic church and said she was now “born again” and attending a Christian Assembly Church. This was huge as she was a born and raised Italian Catholic. That just does not happen! When she told me this there was a peace in her spirit that had never been there before. Her dad died of cancer and she was bitter with God until now. Although she was definitely changed by this new experience I thought I was comfortable staying a Catholic.
After about a year I got a realtor’s license. I worked at it part time while working full time at the shipyard. The shipyard was good steady work but the recession was ending and the strong military population in Southwest Virginia made the real estate business start to increase. Being tired from working two jobs I woke up late one Sunday morning and rushed off to attend Catholic mass. On my way to mass I passed a church called Warwick Assembly of God. The word “Assembly” caught my attention. I thought about the new church my fiancé was attending. I was late for mass so I turned around and decided to see what she was in to.
There was a man at the door with a huge smile greeting people as they entered. He extended his hand to me and with a strong southern accent he said “Welcome Brother!” My defensive response was, “I am a Catholic!”
“Never mind, we love Catholics around here.” He exclaimed as he ushered me in and introduced me to the elderly pastor and his wife. They were just as nice as he. What a sweet old couple. The pastor’s wife tried to help me find a seat up front but I quickly took the back seat by the door so I could escape as soon as they would leave me alone.
I said earlier that I had no idea what “Charismatic” meant and I sure did not know what “Pentecostal” was about! For some reason I did not leave. Everything on the outside wanted to but everything on the inside said “stay.. The music started and they clapped with the music. Some of them had their hands raised high in the air and were waving them. The music did not stop but the singing did and they in confusion. When the music did stop one man started shouting like he was the preacher and said, “Thus sayeth the Lord!” I felt like I wanted to get out that door but something or somebody kept me there. This was all kind of strange but I was not afraid. I sensed goodness through all of this confusion. The preacher finally did preach and he sure was a lot longer than the priest’s homilies. Yet it was interesting. At the end he asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. The next thing I knew he was talking to me and about me in front of all those people. Before I knew it, I was standing up front with him, crying my eyes out and praying a prayer with him.
Looking back I know that I asked Jesus in my heart beside my bed in Pennsylvania. The Catholics did not teach about being “born again” so I like to say that in that little Assembly of God church I got born again again.
My brother got married and started a family while he was still very young. I was a young uncle and I loved spending time with my nieces. I would take them to the zoo and other outings. As a young adult I enjoyed playing with young children. They seemed to really enjoy me too. I am embarrassed to say that I lived with my parents until I was twenty-eight years old. During that time neighborhood children would come knocking at my mom’s door asking if I could play in the yard with them. I guess they saw me as a big brother or maybe a fatherly figure.
Immediately after I prayed to receive Christ I got a stirring to leave home. It was about time! I would still go out with friends and drink but something had changed, it was not fun like it used to be. I felt guilt while sitting at the bars. I sold my hunting rifles and had just enough money to drive to Virginia to start a new life. I packed what little I had into my van and off I went. I was staying at a campground in Virginia Beach. I almost headed back to Pennsylvania when I was filling out a job application and realized that I had no address or phone number to put on the application. It was then that I remembered a friend from high school who was living nearby in Norfolk, Virginia. I called him and told him of my situation. He said I could use his couch until I could secure a job and another place to stay.
One of the priests from the Catholic Church in Pennsylvania referred me to his uncle who had a management position at the Newport News Shipbuilding Company. I met him at his house to fill out the application and within a week I had a job at the Shipyard!
During my time working at the Catholic Church I converted to Catholicism. I did this for two reasons. First, the girl I was engaged to was Catholic. Second, I was feeling a need to know God and the influence of the Capuchin Priests made it a logical choice to convert. They were so kind to me even when I showed up to work hung over. I did not know then what “Charismatic” meant but I now realized that they were “Charismatic Catholics.”
I started attending a Catholic Church in Newport News, Virginia. I had developed many Catholic friends in Pennsylvania and had good fellowship with them. I tried to find the same kind of relationships in Virginia but it was not the same. Western Pennsylvania was predominantly Catholic while Virginia was predominantly Southern Baptist and Pentecostal. The Catholic Church I was attending was not as alive and welcoming as what I had found in Pennsylvania. I was lonely and trying to find Godly friends. The relationship I was in was rocky before I left and trying to keep it going four hundred miles away was not working.
My so-called fiancé in Pennsylvania had left the Catholic church and said she was now “born again” and attending a Christian Assembly Church. This was huge as she was a born and raised Italian Catholic. That just does not happen! When she told me this there was a peace in her spirit that had never been there before. Her dad died of cancer and she was bitter with God until now. Although she was definitely changed by this new experience I thought I was comfortable staying a Catholic.
After about a year I got a realtor’s license. I worked at it part time while working full time at the shipyard. The shipyard was good steady work but the recession was ending and the strong military population in Southwest Virginia made the real estate business start to increase. Being tired from working two jobs I woke up late one Sunday morning and rushed off to attend Catholic mass. On my way to mass I passed a church called Warwick Assembly of God. The word “Assembly” caught my attention. I thought about the new church my fiancé was attending. I was late for mass so I turned around and decided to see what she was in to.
There was a man at the door with a huge smile greeting people as they entered. He extended his hand to me and with a strong southern accent he said “Welcome Brother!” My defensive response was, “I am a Catholic!”
“Never mind, we love Catholics around here.” He exclaimed as he ushered me in and introduced me to the elderly pastor and his wife. They were just as nice as he. What a sweet old couple. The pastor’s wife tried to help me find a seat up front but I quickly took the back seat by the door so I could escape as soon as they would leave me alone.
I said earlier that I had no idea what “Charismatic” meant and I sure did not know what “Pentecostal” was about! For some reason I did not leave. Everything on the outside wanted to but everything on the inside said “stay.. The music started and they clapped with the music. Some of them had their hands raised high in the air and were waving them. The music did not stop but the singing did and they in confusion. When the music did stop one man started shouting like he was the preacher and said, “Thus sayeth the Lord!” I felt like I wanted to get out that door but something or somebody kept me there. This was all kind of strange but I was not afraid. I sensed goodness through all of this confusion. The preacher finally did preach and he sure was a lot longer than the priest’s homilies. Yet it was interesting. At the end he asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. The next thing I knew he was talking to me and about me in front of all those people. Before I knew it, I was standing up front with him, crying my eyes out and praying a prayer with him.
Looking back I know that I asked Jesus in my heart beside my bed in Pennsylvania. The Catholics did not teach about being “born again” so I like to say that in that little Assembly of God church I got born again again.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
CHAPTER 1 "WHAT IF?"
Our family attended the local Methodist church in our small town in western Pennsylvania. We attended regularly until I was ten years old. My parents would go the adult service and my brother, sister and I would go to the Sunday school. I remember my class being incredibly boring! I was a kid who loved to be active and play outside. I did well in public school but I dreaded going to Sunday school.
The Sunday school teacher for my class was the typical teacher of that time. She was probably in her late fifties. She had grey hair that was always in a little bun. She always had a sweater and a long skirt on. Later when I went to Junior High School I was surprised to find out she was our school librarian. I remember her being very nice, probably too nice. The other boys in the class were very mischievous and noisy but she never seemed to get too upset with them. In fact the class was always out of order and the boys made fun of her constantly.
The class was in a multi-purpose area of the church. The rooms were separated by a folding partition that was not sound proof. You could hear all the other classes going on at the same time. Some classes were singing, some were reciting Bible verses and to me it all sounded very confusing. There was an old piano in our section and the teacher would play while she tried to lead us in songs from the adult hymnal. The room was obviously used for other classes and purposes so there was nothing on the painted block walls. I remember even the color of the paint was boring. It was pale and faded green. We did have a window in our class that looked out to the main street of the town. The cars going by was the main thing that kept any of my interest.
The teacher taught from a Sunday school manual. She read directly from the manual and she seemed to follow it exactly. She would have the students read from the King James Version of the Bible. Many of kids read poorly and did even worse with all the “Thee’s and Thou’s .” I remember it being so grueling as each child had to read a section. Afterwards she would ask questions.
Some of the stories did catch my attention but it was not due to any creative ways of teaching or dramatic flare as the other children read. I liked the stories and I felt something special or holy as we read them, especially the ones about Jesus. At the same time it was still very boring to me.
I remember complaining each Sunday morning as my parents would get us out of bed to get ready for church. Obviously, my brother was having the same experience as me. He also complained and being older his complaints were a little louder. My sister was four years younger and I cannot remember if she complained or not? I think she went to church with my parents each week. I am not sure if it was our complaining or if it was the pastor visiting our home and offending my dad by asking for a donation for the building fund, but one day we just quit going to church.
At fifteen years old I stole some of my father’s liquor. I joined some friends who did the same. We gathered down by the creek near our house. I got drunk for the first time. We had fun and we thought we were very cool that we accomplished this without getting caught.
This was the beginning of a young life that was very lost until I found the Lord at twenty-eight years old. I became an alcoholic. For the next thirteen years I was an alcoholic and a drunk. If I had one drink or one beer it always led to more. I started smoking pot very heavily at sixteen years old. I dabbled with some narcotics but mostly it was pot, beer and liquor. I drove many miles while stone drunk. Thank God I did not kill anyone or even myself. At twenty-eight years old I hit bottom. I had quit the drugs but I was a full-fledged alcoholic. I was in a bad relationship. A recession had hit the USA and I was unemployed. It was the mercy of God that got me a part time job as a janitor in a Catholic church. It was there that some kind Capuchin priests befriended me and started to point me to a relationship with Jesus that saved my soul and saved my life.
The big “What if?” What if the nice but boring Sunday school teacher had made a little extra effort to make the class interesting to a bunch of ten year olds. Maybe if the room was more welcoming with some fun pictures or colorful posters. This was the mid sixties so I am sure there had to be some good Sunday school curriculum with visuals. What if we sang some kidsy type Sunday school songs instead of singing out of an adult hymnal? What if we read out of a Bible that was easier to read and understand than the King James Version?
Would have I enjoyed it enough to not complain to my parents every Sunday morning? Did those complaints help my dad make the decision to quit taking us to church?
I do not blame the Sunday school teacher for my lost years. Perhaps I would have complained even if it were fun and interesting. Nobody is to blame for my sinful life but me. I am not a victim and the only thing I can say is thank God that He rescued me and saved me before it was too late.
There is that possibility that if the classes were relevant, fun and interesting that maybe my brother and I would have begged our parents to keep going to church. Perhaps my teenage years and into my twenties might have been different.
This is the reason I have been involved in children’s ministry for over twenty years. This is the reason I am so passionate to develop children’s ministries that are fun, exciting, relevant and a place where they will meet and know Jesus, my Savior.
My mission is to help churches develop a children’s church that the kids run to and bring their friends to because it is everything but boring. Kids church and Sunday school should be one of the most exciting times in a child’s week. My hope is that my efforts to develop this kind of ministry for children has preserved many a children from going through the lost years that I experienced.
I hope that my efforts to make Sunday morning children’s church and Sunday school a place where kids want to be has preserved many a child from living the lost years that I went through. Perhaps by striving to make that hour on Sunday morning special that lives have been changed and saved.
I hope as you read this book you catch my passion. There will be some practical applications that you can learn and duplicate but mostly I hope that you understand the “Why” of what I try to do. Someone once said if you know the “Why” you figure out the “How”.
Today’s world is full of things that will capture the attention of the children. We will never compete with video games and media, but with some extra effort and sincere care we can communicate the love of Jesus in ways that are relevant to the way children receive and learn.
The Sunday school teacher for my class was the typical teacher of that time. She was probably in her late fifties. She had grey hair that was always in a little bun. She always had a sweater and a long skirt on. Later when I went to Junior High School I was surprised to find out she was our school librarian. I remember her being very nice, probably too nice. The other boys in the class were very mischievous and noisy but she never seemed to get too upset with them. In fact the class was always out of order and the boys made fun of her constantly.
The class was in a multi-purpose area of the church. The rooms were separated by a folding partition that was not sound proof. You could hear all the other classes going on at the same time. Some classes were singing, some were reciting Bible verses and to me it all sounded very confusing. There was an old piano in our section and the teacher would play while she tried to lead us in songs from the adult hymnal. The room was obviously used for other classes and purposes so there was nothing on the painted block walls. I remember even the color of the paint was boring. It was pale and faded green. We did have a window in our class that looked out to the main street of the town. The cars going by was the main thing that kept any of my interest.
The teacher taught from a Sunday school manual. She read directly from the manual and she seemed to follow it exactly. She would have the students read from the King James Version of the Bible. Many of kids read poorly and did even worse with all the “Thee’s and Thou’s .” I remember it being so grueling as each child had to read a section. Afterwards she would ask questions.
Some of the stories did catch my attention but it was not due to any creative ways of teaching or dramatic flare as the other children read. I liked the stories and I felt something special or holy as we read them, especially the ones about Jesus. At the same time it was still very boring to me.
I remember complaining each Sunday morning as my parents would get us out of bed to get ready for church. Obviously, my brother was having the same experience as me. He also complained and being older his complaints were a little louder. My sister was four years younger and I cannot remember if she complained or not? I think she went to church with my parents each week. I am not sure if it was our complaining or if it was the pastor visiting our home and offending my dad by asking for a donation for the building fund, but one day we just quit going to church.
At fifteen years old I stole some of my father’s liquor. I joined some friends who did the same. We gathered down by the creek near our house. I got drunk for the first time. We had fun and we thought we were very cool that we accomplished this without getting caught.
This was the beginning of a young life that was very lost until I found the Lord at twenty-eight years old. I became an alcoholic. For the next thirteen years I was an alcoholic and a drunk. If I had one drink or one beer it always led to more. I started smoking pot very heavily at sixteen years old. I dabbled with some narcotics but mostly it was pot, beer and liquor. I drove many miles while stone drunk. Thank God I did not kill anyone or even myself. At twenty-eight years old I hit bottom. I had quit the drugs but I was a full-fledged alcoholic. I was in a bad relationship. A recession had hit the USA and I was unemployed. It was the mercy of God that got me a part time job as a janitor in a Catholic church. It was there that some kind Capuchin priests befriended me and started to point me to a relationship with Jesus that saved my soul and saved my life.
The big “What if?” What if the nice but boring Sunday school teacher had made a little extra effort to make the class interesting to a bunch of ten year olds. Maybe if the room was more welcoming with some fun pictures or colorful posters. This was the mid sixties so I am sure there had to be some good Sunday school curriculum with visuals. What if we sang some kidsy type Sunday school songs instead of singing out of an adult hymnal? What if we read out of a Bible that was easier to read and understand than the King James Version?
Would have I enjoyed it enough to not complain to my parents every Sunday morning? Did those complaints help my dad make the decision to quit taking us to church?
I do not blame the Sunday school teacher for my lost years. Perhaps I would have complained even if it were fun and interesting. Nobody is to blame for my sinful life but me. I am not a victim and the only thing I can say is thank God that He rescued me and saved me before it was too late.
There is that possibility that if the classes were relevant, fun and interesting that maybe my brother and I would have begged our parents to keep going to church. Perhaps my teenage years and into my twenties might have been different.
This is the reason I have been involved in children’s ministry for over twenty years. This is the reason I am so passionate to develop children’s ministries that are fun, exciting, relevant and a place where they will meet and know Jesus, my Savior.
My mission is to help churches develop a children’s church that the kids run to and bring their friends to because it is everything but boring. Kids church and Sunday school should be one of the most exciting times in a child’s week. My hope is that my efforts to develop this kind of ministry for children has preserved many a children from going through the lost years that I experienced.
I hope that my efforts to make Sunday morning children’s church and Sunday school a place where kids want to be has preserved many a child from living the lost years that I went through. Perhaps by striving to make that hour on Sunday morning special that lives have been changed and saved.
I hope as you read this book you catch my passion. There will be some practical applications that you can learn and duplicate but mostly I hope that you understand the “Why” of what I try to do. Someone once said if you know the “Why” you figure out the “How”.
Today’s world is full of things that will capture the attention of the children. We will never compete with video games and media, but with some extra effort and sincere care we can communicate the love of Jesus in ways that are relevant to the way children receive and learn.
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