I would have thought it was a lot funnier if it had happened to someone else. I'm sure our family looked hilarious, gathered outside our green 12-passenger van in the parking lot at the Indianapolis Zoo, trying to find a way to break into it. I had made my oldest son take off his belt and was dangling it through the driver's side window which was opened just an inch. My girls stood opposite me, peering through the passenger window, pointing first right, then left again, as I tried to no avail to loop the buckle around the lock and pull it up. Meanwhile, my husband and son were using their pocketknives and utility tools to try to pry open a window.
Somehow everyone seemed to think it was my fault that the keys were locked inside the van. It was true that I was the one who had them last. After spending the last few hours peering at sleeping tigers, muddy rhinos, and baboons with bare bottoms, we had returned to the van to eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I had packed. All except for my husband, who had gone in search of a fork. He's been on the Atkins diet for over a year now, and PBJs are not exactly low-carb. He'd packed himself a scrumptious-looking salad that made our sandwiches look pitiful in comparison. Unfortunately, though, he had forgotten to pack a fork. I had brillantly suggested that he go to the zoo cafe and find one, and so he had given me his keys, since I had locked my purse in the van so I wouldn't have to carry it. (Bright, eh?)
When we had arrived in the van, I tossed the keys into the cupholder, and then never thought another thing about them. We feasted on PBJs, Kool-Aid Jammers, and granola bars, and then locked everything up tight to keep my purse safe. It wasn't until we returned from strolling through the White River Gardens that Erick asked me, "So, where are my keys?"
I've locked myself out of a car before. Once I'd locked my keys in the car while it was running. My son actually managed to find a spare set I didn't even know existed. Another time I was grocery shopping and had to call my husband to come rescue me. But this time there wasn't anyone to call to bring us a spare set. I know there are companies that we could call to come pop our lock for us, but we're on a budget, for heaven's sakes. We had to find a way to do this cheaply.
We did actually break into our van eventually. I would tell you how, but I don't want to give anyone any ideas. Okay, actually, I'm not entirely sure how he did it. My husband pried some sort of doohicky off that allowed him to open the window and stick his arm in and open the door from the inside. In the process, he managed to cut his hand with a pocketknife.
I did feel a little bad for being the one who left the keys in the van, but really--it wasn't ALL my fault. If Erick had remembered to pack a fork...or had thought about asking for his keys before we locked up the van., none of this would have ever happened.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Rachel and the Kings of the Bible
Rachel's 3rd grade reader from Rod and Staff' is based on the Bible. It started out with stories about King David and King Solomon, but we are starting to get into some of the lesser known stories of subsequent kings after Israel was split into two kingdoms. For a nine-year-old, it's some pretty heavy stuff, full of wicked kings who worshiped idols and practiced all sorts of evil. It's interesting to listen to her commentary as she reads through her lesson.
Today she was reading about one of the few good kings during that time period: Judah's good King Asa who trusted in the Lord and whose heart was perfect for almost his entire reign. Towards the end, however, he called on the Syrians to help him when Israel attacked. The Lord was displeased and sent a prophet to tell him that he had done foolishly and as a result would have wars from then on.
"I think that if a prophet gave me a message that I didn't like," commented Rachel, "that I would just tell him, 'Geez, you could have at least said it nicelier.'"
She continued reading. "'Asa did not like this message of the prophet.' She paused and gave me a 'told-you-so' look. "See? He should have said something like, 'Hey, if you listen to me and don't get mad, I'll give you a free camel or a nice wife or something.'"
"'He was so angry with him that he put him into prison.'" Rachel stopped. "Mom?" she said."What was the name of that one king with the shriveled up hand?"
"Jeroboam?" I replied.
"Yeah. At least when the prophet told him news he didn't like, he just said, 'Get out of here.' He didn't throw him into prison!"
She continued. "'The Lord caused Asa to get a very serious disease in his feet.' Have you ever gotten a serious disease in your feet, Mom?"
"No, I never have."
'"Instead of going to the Lord for help, Asa went to doctors.' Wait--they had doctors back then?"
"Yes, they had doctors."
"Oh, let me guess. They were probably the kind of doctors that didn't do any good and just used a lot of spices, right?"
"Well, they had some treatments that worked, but they didn't have all the things they do nowadays. But still, only God can truly heal. Doctors can help, too, but we should always remember to pray and ask God to heal us," I explained.
"The doctors can do things like cut bad parts out of our bodies that don't work right, but God has to heal our skin back together. So it's kind of like God and the doctors work together," Rachel added.
"Exactly!"
Rachel returned to her story. "'But the doctors could not cure his disease. Two years after Asa got the disease, he died. He had been king for nearly forty-one years.' Is that as long as David was king?"
"Well, I think David was king for forty years, actually. So they were king for just about the same amount of time."
"How come there's a whole lot of chapters about David and only one about Asa, then?"
"I don't know--I guess they thought David was more important. Keep going."
"'He was buried in the grave that he had made for himself in the city of David.' That's kind of selfish, making a grave for yourself. He should have made a grave for his father and someone else should have made his grave."
"Like who?"
"Like his wife or his kids." Rachel tried to read the next name. "'Je..Je...'"
"Jehoshaphat."
"'Jehoshaphat his son reigned as king in his place.' Who would name their kid Jehoshaphat! What a stupid name."
And it went on like this, all the way to the end of the chapter. The next chapter is about Ahab and Jezebel. That ought to be interesting. By the time she's finished 3rd grade, I think she'll have a better grasp on Bible history than most Jeopardy contestants I've seen.
Today she was reading about one of the few good kings during that time period: Judah's good King Asa who trusted in the Lord and whose heart was perfect for almost his entire reign. Towards the end, however, he called on the Syrians to help him when Israel attacked. The Lord was displeased and sent a prophet to tell him that he had done foolishly and as a result would have wars from then on.
"I think that if a prophet gave me a message that I didn't like," commented Rachel, "that I would just tell him, 'Geez, you could have at least said it nicelier.'"
She continued reading. "'Asa did not like this message of the prophet.' She paused and gave me a 'told-you-so' look. "See? He should have said something like, 'Hey, if you listen to me and don't get mad, I'll give you a free camel or a nice wife or something.'"
"'He was so angry with him that he put him into prison.'" Rachel stopped. "Mom?" she said."What was the name of that one king with the shriveled up hand?"
"Jeroboam?" I replied.
"Yeah. At least when the prophet told him news he didn't like, he just said, 'Get out of here.' He didn't throw him into prison!"
She continued. "'The Lord caused Asa to get a very serious disease in his feet.' Have you ever gotten a serious disease in your feet, Mom?"
"No, I never have."
'"Instead of going to the Lord for help, Asa went to doctors.' Wait--they had doctors back then?"
"Yes, they had doctors."
"Oh, let me guess. They were probably the kind of doctors that didn't do any good and just used a lot of spices, right?"
"Well, they had some treatments that worked, but they didn't have all the things they do nowadays. But still, only God can truly heal. Doctors can help, too, but we should always remember to pray and ask God to heal us," I explained.
"The doctors can do things like cut bad parts out of our bodies that don't work right, but God has to heal our skin back together. So it's kind of like God and the doctors work together," Rachel added.
"Exactly!"
Rachel returned to her story. "'But the doctors could not cure his disease. Two years after Asa got the disease, he died. He had been king for nearly forty-one years.' Is that as long as David was king?"
"Well, I think David was king for forty years, actually. So they were king for just about the same amount of time."
"How come there's a whole lot of chapters about David and only one about Asa, then?"
"I don't know--I guess they thought David was more important. Keep going."
"'He was buried in the grave that he had made for himself in the city of David.' That's kind of selfish, making a grave for yourself. He should have made a grave for his father and someone else should have made his grave."
"Like who?"
"Like his wife or his kids." Rachel tried to read the next name. "'Je..Je...'"
"Jehoshaphat."
"'Jehoshaphat his son reigned as king in his place.' Who would name their kid Jehoshaphat! What a stupid name."
And it went on like this, all the way to the end of the chapter. The next chapter is about Ahab and Jezebel. That ought to be interesting. By the time she's finished 3rd grade, I think she'll have a better grasp on Bible history than most Jeopardy contestants I've seen.
Monday, April 09, 2012
Easter service humor
I'll be honest--I'm not a morning person. But yesterday was Easter, and our family always attends the Sunrise Service. In Clay City, where my husband pastors, many of the churches get together each year for a community Sunrise Service. It's always a beautiful event and well-attended.
Since we live in Jasonville, we have a twenty minute drive to Clay City. We intended on leaving at 6:30 to arrive a few minutes before 7:00. I figured my husband, the early riser of the family, would wake us all up in time to get ready. He did not. I actually woke up on my own at about ten after six. None of the kids were up. We had to leave in twenty minutes, and I barely had time to throw on some clothes and brush my teeth.
Erick and I scurried around, placing the gift bags of chocolate and other goodies on the table in the kids' places, as we do every year. Then we woke them up so they could see their gifts, and told them to hurry up and get dressed because by that time we had to leave in about five minutes.
We actually did make it to church on time. It was at the Methodist church this year, and they had just started playing the organ as we walked in. Of course, with our size of family, we needed a whole pew to ourselves, and there weren't many empty pews. I found one up near the front that was still empty. For some reason, the front seats in church seem to be reserved for those who are late. So our bedraggled kids who had just crawled out of bed trailed after us into the pew, looking like bunch of orphans. Some of them hadn't even combed their hair.
It was a beautiful service. Each pastor in the community played a part. My husband's part was the prayer. We were all standing at that point in the service, having just finished singing a hymn. The floor in the sanctuary was sloped, and I was wearing high heels. I was also starting to feel a little bit woozy. I had eaten nothing but two marshmallow peeps that morning, and my sugar high was wearing off. As my husband went forward to pray, I decided I had better sit down.
When I sat, so did the rest of my kids. When our whole pew sat, so did the people behind us. Within seconds, the entire church had followed our lead and sat down with a great swoosh. It was kind of funny, actually, because everyone was looking at each other like, "Are we supposed to sit?" In the end, those who seemed to think that it was proper to remain standing for the prayer succumbed to the pressure to do what everyone else was doing. And to think I started it all.
Despite this somewhat humourous beginning to our Easter, we had a wonderful day, probably one of the best we've had. God is so good to us and we just spent the day enjoying Him and thanking Him for His gifts to us. I hope you all had a blessed Easter as well.
Since we live in Jasonville, we have a twenty minute drive to Clay City. We intended on leaving at 6:30 to arrive a few minutes before 7:00. I figured my husband, the early riser of the family, would wake us all up in time to get ready. He did not. I actually woke up on my own at about ten after six. None of the kids were up. We had to leave in twenty minutes, and I barely had time to throw on some clothes and brush my teeth.
Erick and I scurried around, placing the gift bags of chocolate and other goodies on the table in the kids' places, as we do every year. Then we woke them up so they could see their gifts, and told them to hurry up and get dressed because by that time we had to leave in about five minutes.
We actually did make it to church on time. It was at the Methodist church this year, and they had just started playing the organ as we walked in. Of course, with our size of family, we needed a whole pew to ourselves, and there weren't many empty pews. I found one up near the front that was still empty. For some reason, the front seats in church seem to be reserved for those who are late. So our bedraggled kids who had just crawled out of bed trailed after us into the pew, looking like bunch of orphans. Some of them hadn't even combed their hair.
It was a beautiful service. Each pastor in the community played a part. My husband's part was the prayer. We were all standing at that point in the service, having just finished singing a hymn. The floor in the sanctuary was sloped, and I was wearing high heels. I was also starting to feel a little bit woozy. I had eaten nothing but two marshmallow peeps that morning, and my sugar high was wearing off. As my husband went forward to pray, I decided I had better sit down.
When I sat, so did the rest of my kids. When our whole pew sat, so did the people behind us. Within seconds, the entire church had followed our lead and sat down with a great swoosh. It was kind of funny, actually, because everyone was looking at each other like, "Are we supposed to sit?" In the end, those who seemed to think that it was proper to remain standing for the prayer succumbed to the pressure to do what everyone else was doing. And to think I started it all.
Despite this somewhat humourous beginning to our Easter, we had a wonderful day, probably one of the best we've had. God is so good to us and we just spent the day enjoying Him and thanking Him for His gifts to us. I hope you all had a blessed Easter as well.
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