Sundayschool

I’d
be willing to bet that from time to time all of us have
volunteered for some job or another and then had buyers’
remorse set in shortly thereafter. You know what I mean, you
get all fired up about something or another, some good cause
or program and you think to yourself….’that’s neat, I
believe I can do that.’



Then once you see what’s involved you start kicking yourself
in the pants for having opened your mouth and sticking your
foot into it. Look in the dictionary under the word, mullet
and you’ll find a picture of me beside the definition.



To illustrate my point, several weeks ago a good well
meaning member of our church asked me if I would lead a
class of 3rd grade boys for a couple of hours for five
Sunday nights. The topic was to be missionary activities in
Brazil. They would provide the materials and teaching tools.
All I would have to do is to implement the lesson plan and
oversee the class.



Sounded simple to me, I mean how tough can this be? I’ve
raised 3 boys. I’ve taught 1st graders; in my mind I thought
3rd grade boys would be more mature and well behaved than
1st graders. 7 little boys can’t be all that much trouble,
could they?



Was I wrong.



My first Sunday evening was a total disaster, it was like
herding cats. No, worse than that. You know that game at the
carnival where you have a little hammer and you hit these
popup things and as soon as you hit one …another pops up and
you try to hit it? That’s how these boys were. I had another
grown man helping out. As soon as each of us would get 2
under control, the other 3 would pop up. We’d get those 3
under control and the previous 4 would be up and running
around like little wild whirling dervishes. About 15 minutes
before the session was over some they were starting to wind
down into a sort of rational behavior mode and then some
other kindly volunteer came into the room and
announced…’Snack Time’…then they refueled on the sugar in
the drinks and cookies and were wound up and going again at
full speed. Haven’t these people ever heard of chamomile
tea? This was the longest hour and a half I’ve spent since
waiting for my last surgery. I was a mental and physical
wreck. How could this have happened? I cried all the way
home.



There was no way; I was going to go back. I called and tried
to get my doctor to think of some elective surgery I might
need, but he said nothing came to mind at the time. I didn’t
need a new nose and nothing on my body was broken, so he
wasn’t much help. I need to look for someone who is more
understanding. Where have all the imaginative physicians
gone off to?



Last night, I was planning on calling in sick or making up
some other bizarre excuse such as I might have to go to
Washington or China, I’m not certain which one and so can’t
help out with the class tonight, sorry. Might be gone for
the next couple of months, you know how bad the planes are,
might want to find someone else to help teach this class.



My loving wife steps in and shames me with the following
facts.



“You were in Korea, you were a tank commander, you’ve been a
policeman and had people shoot at you…you’ve been in
business with grownups for over 30 years….and you’re going
to let 7 little boys intimidate you?”



“Yes, honey, but you don’t understand…..these little boys…”



She doesn’t give me a chance to finish…flashes those eyes at
me…and walks out to the car. She grabs my stuff and
announces that she is going to help me get this under
control.



She is a force to be reckoned with.



I am mentally smirking all the way to the church…just wait
until she sees what I have to go through. We’ll see who has
the last laugh on this one.



Let me tell you what happened. My 7 little lads came in,
took one look at her, sat down, shut up and announced they
were ready to learn. It was one of the most amazing things
I’ve ever seen in my life. It was like pouring oil on
troubled seas. They came, they listened, they spoke and they
learned.



I was totally in awe of how she had them in her grasp and
control from the first minute to the last. No back talk, no
smart remarks, no running around, and no foolishness. Just 7
little boys sitting down and listening and learning.



I came away feeling like we got something done. The day was
gained, not lost. I’m going back next week and do it again.
Just goes to show me that none of us are ever too old to
learn.