By Kiera Rich – KRich13@bellsouth.net
Daniela is gone. Last Sunday was supposed to be her last day but because church was cancelled due to weather, she slipped quietly out of town with no formal good-byes, no last hugs, no visible tears. Daniela was the Children’s Director at our church. Now she’s headed west to bless a new church and a lot of little lives of kids she doesn’t even know yet.
I was in Daniela’s shoes in the summer of 2006. No, I wasn’t the Children’s Director at my old church but I was heavily immersed in Children’s Ministry. To other people, they may have just been someone else’s kids but to me, they were MY kids. And saying good-bye to my kids who had literally grown up before my eyes was painful at best; but the worst part was the wondering. As my time at my old church wound down, my thoughts were constantly filled with things like, “Was I really finished with these kids? Did I do what God called me to do?” I knew without a doubt that it was time for me to go. But still…I wondered.
As I look back now, I’m still unsure. But since God’s timing is perfect, I have to believe that I was finished — just as Daniela was finished here. However, there were a lot of sad kids at church this morning that would have said she was anything but finished. Her absence will be felt for a long, long time.
After I made my official announcement to my kids that I was moving to Georgia, like pre-teen town-criers, they ran out of Sunday school to spread the news. One of the parents responded by asking me, “Who’s going to teach my daughter’s Sunday school class next fall?” At first, I was a little annoyed. With planning a wedding, preparing for a cross-country move, and the garage sale to end all garage sales, finding a replacement to teach 5th & 6th graders on Sunday morning was really not a priority for me. But then, as I thought about it, I was touched by the fact that I would obviously be missed.
I think most people assume that the leaving part was easy for me. I was in a very exciting season as I was ready to begin a new life with my soon-to-be husband. But I really wonder if my kids realize that leaving them broke my heart. To this day, 18 months after my last, gut-wrenching Sunday, I still miss those kids. I still have dreams of our time together. I still pray for each one of them. Every day. And I still love them.
They always seemed happy to see me. They always had an event to share with me from their lives. I miss seeing them and hearing those stories. I miss the way they embraced eccentricity and taught me how to view the world in a way that was just a little skewed from the norm. I miss watching them figure out how to deal with people and learn how to be a real friend to someone. I miss praying for the things that mattered to them and I miss sharing in the ups and downs of their lives. I miss hearing them adopt strange accents when we did dramas. The boys sounded a little like Orson Wells meets “Pirates of the Caribbean.” And the girls? One day it was Hillary Duff. The next it was pseudo-ValleyGirl and the next it was Minnie Mouse with goat sounds added, just to spice things up.
I miss their logic. Although it often made me dizzy, it was always entertaining. I miss how they kept me on my toes. To survive class, I was forced to think like a tween again. Otherwise, I would sink faster than a comedian on the Titanic. “But seriously, folks! Doesn’t the band sound terrific?”
Lessons had to be researched. And yet they still managed to ask me questions that I wasn’t prepared for and had no clue how to answer. Games had to be well-thought out and planned. If there was ANY loophole in the rules, someone would find it and exploit it. And sometimes, I learned, the best plan was no plan at all.
I remember chucking my lesson plan one day in favor of simply enjoying each other’s company. We played games and we talked but I can’t say the kids learned anything that day. As we were cleaning up, I apologized to my co-teacher about the lack of lesson. Her reply? ”You did something more valuable. You built relationships.”
I miss the laughter we shared. My kids would come up with the strangest phraseology. I don’t remember what Scripture we were studying when the phrase “East Genesis” was born. It still makes me laugh every time I think about it. In my mind, it sounds like the ghetto where Adam & Eve chilled out. We laughed a lot in my class.
I think what I miss the most is watching my kids grow in Christ. I loved listening to their questions progress as they began to understand more about Scripture. I loved watching them discover how God created them individually and how it was ok to be different from their friends. I loved watching them learn about their talents and abilities and how to use them to further God’s Kingdom.
A friend of mine told me once, “The moods of pre-teens cannot be charted on ordinary graph paper.” She was absolutely right, of course. There were ups and downs and the headaches were numerous. It was an extremely wild ride at times. Nevertheless, it is a ride that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
I am so thankful for Daniela and for all the lives she changed. She may never know what an impact she had. I hope she does, if for no other reason than to answer any lingering, “Did I do what God wanted me to do?” questions she may have.
I’m also thankful for the kids here and all they taught Daniela to prepare her for this next season in her life and in her ministry.
And I’m thankful for everything that I learned and to the wonderful kids who taught me: Courtney & Courtney, Jessica, Sarah, Abby, Ashley, & Kenna. Luke, Mike, Matt, Zac, Ben, & Joshua. Thank you for teaching me, for allowing me into your lives and for sharing your hearts with me.
In twenty years, you may not remember me; but, I’ll never forget you. You will always be a few of the kids who blessed my life and left indelible fingerprints on my heart. I am incredibly grateful that God gave me a season in your path. Thank you for changing my life.
1 Comment
January 27, 2008 at 2:54 pm
beautiful homily … thank you!