Two weeks ago…kids night at our church. They were talking aboot Goliath, I was drafted to act out the part while our interns told the story. I hammed it up, stomping, knocking over a chair, making faces, scowling… Evidently our Pastor was so impressed by my acting that she mentioned it Sunday in church. My childrens gave me proud smiles when they heard my name.

Last  week the children heard the story of Baby Moses.

tonight, once again I was lucky enough to play with the praise band. Srsly don’t know why they invite me to play my djembey, they are good, I am not. But, I try to be quiet, pay attention, and maybe learn something.  I got a bit too excited during “Blessed be Your Name” and “Everlasting God” and bruised my hand!

The sermon was on Jochebed. How the childrens version of the story leaves out the death squads sent to kill Hebrew boys, how difficult it is to keep a baby from crying, how a mother was weeping sending her baby down the crocodile infested Nile. And today, parents in Central America are sending their children away, on a very dangerous journey, hoping they will have a better life. The children clutching a paper with name and address of relative in America that might be able to help. (I can’t trust my kids to carry clean socks to their room amend put them away!)

after, I thanked our pastor…she was inspired and disturbed about modern Jochebeds by someone that constantly challenges her. I said I haven’t thought much of the news story because it’s depressing. She agreed. But everyday, parents are telling their children “you must leave me. For if you stay it is certain death.”




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