Category: Thoughts from Kids

Posted in Thoughts from Kids

Giving Life

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m struggling to find words. Not ideas. Just the words to share those ideas in a way that is kind and loving and not grumpy or angry. I’ve written and rewritten. Edited and tweaked. Debated.

You see, I have a component to my personality that can sometimes be beneficial, but other times it’s a bit of a nuisance. I can easily see multiple perspectives of a story. I can understand, and even empathize with, two sides of an argument — yes, even when my own opinions fall heavily on one side or the other. While I can’t always envision how our actions and words will ripple into the future (my husband is a genius at that!), I can see multiple responses to situations happening in the moment. And in this moment, that vision is breaking my heart. And I want to share it so other people can understand. But can I? Here’s my attempt, feeble though it may be.

We’re heading into the time of year when stories of generosity will flood our media. We’ll be drawn to the heartwarming tales of people whose lives were impacted by extravagant gifts as well as to the people or organizations that make those gifts happen.

We as Christians love to not only hear these stories but to also find a way to be a part of these stories. We want to show how we are being the generous hands and feet of Jesus. On the one hand, it’s not a bad thing to be active participants in these stories. But there’s another side to this tale that we also need to consider, and that’s the side of the everyday people who are watching as we broadly and boldly declare our generous acts for all to see.

We need to consider the grocery store cashier or restaurant server who is hoping and begging for enough hours to simply pay their bills. They have no clue how they’ll go beyond that and be able to give gifts to their loved ones. But, they watch as the church crowd floods their workplaces, still dressed in our Sunday best and talking about the sweet time we had blessing gifts to be sent out to the uttermost parts of the world. But, even as we talk about our own generosity, we’ve already turned off our Christ-like attitudes to the people serving us. We are rude. We are demanding. And we are the opposite of generous. They watch as we come into their stores or to their teller windows harried and grumpy. They deliver our packages or take our customer service complaints. We end up taking out our frustration on them because they are…there. They’re just faces waiting to meet our needs or voices on the other end of the phone call to hear our complaints. It’s not that we’d ever admit to seeing them as sub-human. It’s just that we don’t stop and think of them as individuals with their own joys and hurts and struggles and passions. They’re just there to take care of our immediate needs, and then we move on and they keep on. As a result, we’re not careful with how we handle their hearts.

The thing is, they see us. They hear our conversations and see the news flashes about how we’ve delivered Thanksgiving meals to the poor, packed Christmas shoe boxes, fulfilled Angel Tree wishes, and more. They see how we broadcast our giving. They see the pretties we put on picture-perfect social media. The stories that go up in shining lights because they make us feel good. (Matthew 6 kind of punches me in the gut right here.) But then they feel the brunt of our reality. Our harried lives. Our stresses and strains. Our hurts that twist our actions. All of which we end up taking out on them.

It’s may not be intentional on our part. It’s just…life.

But maybe that’s my point. My heart is aching because of the way we live life. It’s aching because we are so concerned that other people know we’re participating in the socially acceptable modes of alms-giving that it distracts us from the act of giving life to others. Because what better gift could there be?

And yet, in many cases, we’re giving the opposite. We’re giving hopelessness. We’re removing the chance for so many people to see the goodness of God because we’re focused on our heartwarming stories instead of on speaking love into their everyday stories of hurt. They don’t see God’s goodness lavished on them. They just see that they’re not worthy of it. They perceive that God only wants to give when it makes for a good story, and they’ll never be a good enough story.

Ouch.

I’m not saying that we should stop our generosity. When we are able to give gifts this time of year, they do make a difference, as they do when we help meet needs of teachers and students at the beginning of a school year or take action to help alleviate the massive food insecurity that exists right around us.

But I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we would put more energy into daily life-giving than into making sure our community knows what kind of gift-giving we’ve chosen this year. What would happen if we were to bestow kindness upon the store clerk who rings up the gifts we’re purchasing? What would happen if we were able to deliver a Thanksgiving meal without making the recipient feel the shame that comes from needing it in the first place?

What if instead of trying to engage in elaborate, life-changing events, we were to change the way we live our daily lives? Could it be that we wouldn’t need the elaborate because the daily, mundane activities would make the difference? It would be without fanfare. It might not even make for a feel-good story to share. But it could give life. What better gift exists?

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Life

Not Overwhelmed…Focused

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I was skimming through old posts this morning and noticed this one. It was a good reminder for me, and I hope it’s encouraging for you, too.

Years ago, our family ended up with a pile of yard work that consumed at least half of every Saturday for several weeks.

It started when Doug was able to borrow a pole saw and deal with some of the limbs that had been hanging over our house and yard. We wanted to get it done before winter, knowing that an ice storm could wreak havoc on the trees and our roof.

I really didn’t think it would be that big of a job. I mean, I knew there were quite a few branches hanging over the house, but I didn’t think there were that many.

For the record, it’s amazing how much bigger and more numerous they seemed when piled on the ground!

The first Saturday, we dove into the pile of what Doug had cut earlier in the week. But when we were only about halfway through the front yard pile (there was another pile on the side of the house and yet another in the back yard), Doug climbed up on the roof and cut out a few more branches.

Have I mentioned there were a LOT of branches?

The next week, we left the front yard and worked on the back yard, chopping, burning, and salvaging logs for the fireplace. We even roasted hot dogs and made s’mores, just to make it a bit more fun.

But it was still overwhelming. And we still had the side yard. And Doug cut down a few more branches in the backyard.

Yes, there were a lot of branches.

On that second Saturday, my oldest was manning the fire. We had a huge pile of branches beside the fire, waiting to be burned. But for two solid hours, that pile didn’t seem to shrink any. We kept cutting and piling, adding branches to the pile and to the fire itself. Finally, we had the back yard cleared – well, except for the huge ever-growing pile still waiting beside the fire.

My daughter, tired and hot from standing near the fire, looked at the huge pile with dread. “That will take forever to burn through, Mom!” she sighed.

Wrapping my arm around her, I turned her toward the rest of the back yard. Her eyes grew wide as she saw bare ground where branches had been piled not long before.

Life has a way of doing this to us. We see only what is right in front of us. Sometimes it is because what is right in front of us requires all of our energy and attention, leaving us no choice. Other times, we choose to keep our attention close, ignoring the broader picture.

Still other times, God closes our eyes to what is beyond the immediate. He knows that seeing it all would be like seeing all of those branches lying in the yard at the same time: overwhelming. The task before us would be too great. All we can handle is what is right in front of us.

But God knows that we can, in truth, handle it all. He knows He can walk us through each step until the job is done. We just need to keep our focus on Him and the little bit right in front of us.

God does choose on occasion to open our eyes to the bigger picture, letting us see how He is working beyond our tight, little world. Often, though, He simply wants us to obey in what He has placed before us right here, right now, simply walking in obedience and trusting Him to handle the rest.

Posted in Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Life

The Smallest Acts

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

It was the summer of 2017, my son’s first experience with summer camp.

So many details of that summer were chaotic. My husband was heading to Peru at the same time we were heading to camp. I was the only adult taking several girls to PraiseWorks, the youth version of the camp, and there wasn’t an adult available to accompany my son Steven to JoyWorks, the children’s side. We finagled the details so he could hang out with another church, knowing that I was staying on the same campus and could be available to help when needed. But, it was still a bit crazy sending my 10-year-old son to navigate the campus and make sure he was on time to all of his activities.

My amazing kid rose to the challenge without fear or hesitation, and he enjoyed the week. But if you ask him about it these days, a very short 45-minute track session is all that matters to him. That 45 minutes completely changed my son’s life.

Children who go to JoyWorks spend a week participating in choir rehearsals, enjoying times of worship, and attending six track sessions that introduce them to different worship arts skills. One of those track sessions is an introduction to guitar. Campers walk in to find three-quarter sized, nylon stringed beginner guitars specially designed to introduce children to the instrument. The track leader then walks them through guitar basics, including naming the parts of a guitar, describing a chord, and teaching them a few chords.

When it was Steven’s turn for guitar track, he was the last child in his group to walk into the room — and all the guitars were taken. Quick on the uptake, the track leader, Caleb, didn’t miss a beat. He handed my son his own guitar and began to lead the track, borrowing the guitar back from my son when needed to demonstrate a skill.

On the surface, there was nothing truly unique or special about the track. Caleb, a regular at the camp, was a young man who was passionate about guitar, worship, ministry, and children. He encountered a brief problem, saw a quick solution, and handed a 10-year-old boy a guitar to make sure he could participate. I have a feeling he never dreamed that brief action, followed by a quick 45-minute group lesson, would completely and totally change that little boy’s life.

But it did.

Steven came home after that week and picked up his grandfather’s guitar, a dreadnought far too big for him. But he didn’t care. He wanted to play. The next couple of years saw several starts and stops before he truly committed to learning how to play guitar. But, over time, guitar became his “thing.” Others started to notice, and someone gave him a hand-me-down electric guitar to play around with. Then he inherited his greatest treasure, his great-grandfather’s Gibson. Other guitars have been added to his collection over the years (including a second treasured 50+ year-old Gibson!), and he has become quite an accomplished guitarist.

And he attributes it all to the investment of one young man in a 45-minute guitar class seven years ago.

This year, my son went to his last camp, this time as a senior at PraiseWorks. On the last day, he got to see Caleb and tell him thank you one more time. I’m thankful my son recognizes the impact. I’m glad he’s been able to say thank you.

It’s a powerful reminder that we have absolutely no idea how our normal, everyday actions can completely change a life.

The glorious truth is that when we walk in obedience, doing what God has put right in front of us and responding even to the smallest nudges of the Spirit, He can use us in extraordinary ways. Sometimes we get to see the results of those small actions, but often we may never know what our actions and words accomplish. Let’s invest anyway.

May our lives be so in tune with the Spirit that He can impact others this way at any time, in any situation, even in the smallest acts — whether we are aware of it or not.

Posted in Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Others

Beautiful Ages

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

A picture popped up in my Facebook memories. One of my all-time favorites, actually. It pops up every year and I think I reshare it every year, even though it’s now well over a decade old.

The setting is a small town where we used to live. We lived on one edge of town and the post office was at the other end, but the town was small enough that even our littlest could make the trek with us.

On this particular spring day, he didn’t have to. His sisters decided that they wanted to give him and our life-sized stuffed emperor penguin Napoleon a ride in our son’s beloved little red wagon.

In the picture, my precious girls, aged 9 and 7 at the time, face away from the camera, one pulling the wagon and one pushing. (The joint effort wasn’t necessary, but that’s where they wanted to be.) Their 4-year-old brother sits in the wagon facing the camera, proudly holding Napoleon and grinning from ear to ear.

The picture is a beautiful representation of those days. My children fought and argued like any siblings, but they also adored each other. And the girls absolutely loved doing things for their brother. The image didn’t capture a rare sweet moment like some pictures do. Instead, it captured that season of our family’s life. Each year it pops back up in my Facebook feed and reminds me of the beauty of that season.

And yes, some days I miss it. It was not always easy. It was not always glorious, and there were days I wanted to move forward or move on or just be in a different place. But it was still good, and I loved my children being that age.

Here’s the thing, though. I love my children now, too. They are grown. That littlest one in the wagon is now the tallest and is joining his sisters in the adventure of adulthood.

All three of my children have hit some really, really hard days, and my heart grieves the pain they’ve had to journey through. But even though I wish I could protect them from the pain, I still cherish what they’ve learned to make them who they are today. And even though I sometimes miss the baby days or the wagon-pulling days or the lap-snuggling days or the read aloud on the couch days, I wouldn’t give up the grown-up days I’m enjoying now just to go back to the old times.

They are all beautiful ages.

Interestingly, there are some other posts that have popped up in my social media feeds that have also shared the glory and beauty of past ages. They are the posts that talk about how wonderful and beautiful childhood was for this generation or that. They accomplish this by declaring the current age to be ugly. They declare that children today will never be good enough or fulfilled enough or healthy enough or happy enough or whatever enough because they live in the wrong age.

Here’s the sad part about this perspective. It would be just like saying that my children are not good enough because they aren’t still 9, 7, and 4. They aren’t still pulling, pushing, and riding a little red wagon through a town they haven’t lived in for years.

This mindset declares that, because of things outside of their control, my children aren’t enough.

As parents, we tend to verbally mourn the loss of the “little” years without celebrating what we’ve gained in the “big” years.

As generations, we talk about how wonderful we had it when we were kids without celebrating the wonderful things that the new generation has that we didn’t.

Yes, I had a freedom to be outside and unrestricted. But I also lost connection with some potentially lifelong friends because I moved and they moved and we lost track of physical mailing addresses. My kids have more restrictions in some ways, but they have friends all around the globe that they interact with every single day.

They will never truly grasp the beauty of my childhood, but I will honestly never experience the beauty of theirs. And it’s okay. Good even. Because there are positives and negatives in every generation. There is beauty in every single age.

Infancy. Childhood. Teen years. Adulthood.

The 50s, the 80s, the 2020s.

Instead of bemoaning what is gone and belittling what is present, what if we were to extol the beauty of it all? What if we were to spend as much time exploring the good as slamming the bad?

We might just find that there’s a whole lot more beauty than we ever imagined possible. Yes, even today.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Scripture

More

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I recently had a conversation with my girls about books they are reading during their quiet times.

First, let me back up and say that Scripture reading is the number one most critical portion of our morning devotional times. We have daily Bible readings (many years all five of us go through the same plan) and we all copy a portion of Scripture every day, just to help us slow down and truly meditate. But, we all also enjoy adding other thought-provoking books into the mix. We usually pick a devotional to read, then often have another book or two going as well.

My oldest decided to move slowly through James with me this year, and we are using two books to help us work through them: James: A Devotional Commentary and The Book of James: A New Perspective: A Linguistic Commentary Applying Discourse Analysis, both by Dr. William Varner. The second of these two books is highly academic. And here we are, a high school junior (a smart high school junior, but still just a junior) and homeschool mom a long way from her academic pursuits trying to push our way through a very academic look at the book of James.

Needless to say, we frequently feel like we’re in a bit over our heads.

Meanwhile, my nerdy middle child is always searching the bookshelves for something new to stretch and challenge her. Her current attempt is Knowing the Character of God by George MacDonald.

As we discussed the books, both girls admitted to sometimes staring at the page with no real understanding of what they are reading. And, if I’m honest, there are days I do the same. I have to go back and read and reread to try to process and let the concepts sink in. All three of us confess that, sometimes, it doesn’t feel worth the effort when we could focus our full attention on books more on our level.

But, about the time we had this discussion, my youngest unwittingly contributed to the contemplation. His Sunday school lesson that week had been about Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. You can read the whole story in Acts 8, but there are two verses that really rang in my memory as I listened to my son.

Philip ran up and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet, and said, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And he said, “Well, how could I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to come up and sit with him. Acts 8:30-31

The key was this: if the man had not been reading something he didn’t understand, there would not have been an avenue through which he could learn about Christ.

Don’t get me wrong. We can – and do – very often grow through books (and tasks as well) that are closer to our level of understanding. They stretch us in different ways. But, there are also many ways in which we need to push ourselves beyond our apparent capabilities. If we never reach – if we always just stay right where we are doing what we’ve always done – will there ever be an avenue of growth in our lives? Will we ever learn more, experience more, grow more, or be capable of more?

I can’t help but picture a baby taking those first tentative steps, a child choosing to give no training wheels a try, or a teenager first sitting behind the wheel of a car. From birth, we learn and grow because we stretch ourselves. Why should we not do the same as adults?

What more do you need to do this year? Where do you need to step up and challenge yourself to dig into something you don’t understand or don’t really feel capable of in this moment?