Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Lincoln Journal Star

Bible in the Bathroom

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I call it Bible in the Bathroom.

When I heard a well-known Christian speaker mention that she writes a verse or two on a three-by-five card and tapes it over the bathroom sink, I thought I’d give it a try. I admit, I was desperate. Every one of my previous attempts to introduce regular Bible study into our family’s routine had flopped. Badly.

At dinnertime I’d tried reading a verse or two with a brief commentary geared toward children. The kids pronounced it boring after a week.

I’d experimented with various Advent and Lent devotional booklets, even some that included games and other gimmicks, but their eyes glazed over by the third day.

I’d tried scripture straight-up — an Old Testament story or one of the more interesting parables — but the boys preferred to discuss Minecraft over their macaroni and cheese.

My husband Brad wasn’t keen on the idea of Bible in the Bathroom. He suggested I might want to peel the scotch-taped index card off the tile and stash it in the cabinet when we had guests over for dinner.

“I’m not taking it down just because we have guests,” I announced, all high and mighty, standing in the living room with my hands on my hips.

“But think how you would have reacted just a few years ago if you’d spotted a Bible verse taped over someone’s bathroom sink,” he reminded me.

True. I would have deemed the person a creepy, freaky Bible banger, remembered suddenly that I had a “dentist appointment” and made a beeline for the front door.

Honestly, I’m no good at evangelizing. I’m about as likely to inquire if you’ve accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior as I am to ask what size pants you wear. Still, I decided to try Bible in the Bathroom for one reason: I want to introduce my kids to the Bible in a way that didn’t feel like a burden or punishment to them.

I didn’t talk about the verses with the boys, except to suggest they might want to read the card while they brushed their teeth. I didn’t expound on the scripture or explain why I chose the particular verses. I simply taped a card to the tile and changed it out once a week. At the very least, I figured, it gave me something to ponder while I flossed my teeth and plucked my eyebrows.

One morning a few weeks into the project, my son Noah turned to me, toothbrush in hand, as I gathered towels for the wash. “You know,” he said, leaning to spit into the sink, “sometimes I think about these Bible verses when I’m at school. Sometimes they help me worry less.” A couple of weeks later, Rowan began to remind me when it was time to change out the verse.

Clearly a softer, subtler approach to Bible study is the best option for my kids right now. As much as I want to dig into the parables and discuss deep questions with them over dinner, they aren’t ready for or interested in that. They may grow into it…they may not. Right now, though, I’m glad that a few words from the Bible occasionally offer them a little light to see by as they walk through their days.

What about you? Do you have any tips for doing Bible study with kids?

*This post ran last Saturday in the Lincoln Journal Star. 

Right God, Wrong God

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“Mommy, who’s the right God and who’s the wrong God?”

My son Rowan and I are eating lunch on the back patio. As usual, he blurts his question out of nowhere. As usual he asks me, instead of the one person in our home who holds an actual theology degree.

Turns out, Rowan and a friend had been talking about God. Initially the friend had asked Rowan if he believed in God. When Rowan answered yes, his friend then asked if he believed in “the right God or the wrong God.”

“I didn’t really know what he meant, but I told him I believed in the right God,” Rowan admitted. “But Mommy,” he added, “who is the wrong God?”.

...Leave it to Rowan to ask the tricky questions … the rest of our conversation is over at the Lincoln Journal Star — join me there?

Cherish the Extraordinary Ordinary

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A few years ago, as we flew home from a five-day trip to Disney World, I remember asking the boys what their favorite part of the vacation had been. “The goldfish,” my son Noah answered without hesitating. His younger brother Rowan agreed.

I had expected them to say Big Thunder Mountain, Pirates of the Caribbean or the Haunted Mansion – one of the more dramatic, popular rides at the park.

“The goldfish? What goldfish?” I didn’t remember a goldfish-themed ride.

“You know, the goldfish at the hotel,” Noah said. “The ones we fed that night after dinner.” I vaguely recalled a fish pond outside the hotel restaurant. My husband and the boys had scattered a few handfuls of fish food across the lily pads while my parents and I had finished our dinners and paid the bill.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Meme and Pepe your favorite part of Disney World was the goldfish pond at the hotel,” I warned the boys. My parents had spent a boatload of cash to take our whole family on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Disney World. Turns out, we could have walked to the Sunken Garden koi fish pond a mile from our house. For free.

… I’m over at the Journal Star talking about vacations and ordinary moments. Join me over there? {and if you’re a follower of my monthly column over there, you know Frankenstein, the atheist commenter. Check out his comment this month – his FIRST positive comment in almost four years of columns! Of course, it’s because I don’t mention God in this one … but I’ll take what I can get!}

It Is Not Finished: Why I Read the Bible

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“I thought you finished the Bible. Why are you reading it again?” he asks. I’m sprawled the length of the couch, my head propped on a pillow, reading glasses on my nose, the black New Living Translation in my hands. “Oh honey,” I say, craning to look at my son, Noah, “I’ll never be finished with the Bible. Just because I read it all the way through one time doesn’t mean I’m done. Every single time I read the Bible I find something new.”

I completed my first cover-to-cover read-through of the Bible, including all the begets and the endless lists of laws, just a few days before Christmas. I was definitely not on the “Bible-in-90-days” plan. More like the Bible in 690 days. It took me far longer than a year to read the Old and New Testaments, and truth be told, Revelation nearly did me in. About halfway through I said to my husband, “I may not finish. I don’t think I’m going to make it through Revelation.” But I did. I don’t claim to have understood a word of that last book, but I read it. I may need to take a class.

…Will you hop over to the Lincoln Journal Star to read about why I’m not nearly finished with the Bible…I’ll see you over there…

Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: He Dreamed Dreams

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This past summer I wrote a story for the Lincoln Journal Star about my dad’s volunteer work at Gray House, a neighborhood assistance center in a downtrodden part of Springfield, Massachusetts. He organizes the used clothing in the basement thrift store and works upstairs in the food pantry from time to time, too.

When my dad first started to volunteer for Gray House, he simply dropped off clothing donations outside the basement door. But one day, the pile of trash bags outside the basement door was so high, my dad decided to go one step further – he opened the door, and he carried the bags downstairs.

Here’s the part that didn’t make it into the Journal Star story. Here’s what my dad told me about that moment. “That was the Holy Spirit at work, right there,” he said. “The fact that I opened that basement door and brought the bags downstairs was the Holy Spirit at work.”

What happened amid the dank mustiness was that my dad saw dozens of trash bags piled high from the back of the basement to where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. Gray House had been collecting donations for months, but they didn’t have the staff to organize and display the clothes. The thrift shop was in utter disarray.

That was the week my dad started working in the basement of Gray House. He bought portable clothes racks, hangers and a shop-vac and organized the space like only a man who’d spent 37 years in the military could.

 “…I will pour out my Spirit upon all people,” God says in the book of Joel. “Your sons and daughters will prophesy. Your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.” (Joel 3:28)

Now. My dad is not going to love the fact that I am referring to him as an “old man,” yet I can’t help but marvel over that particular phrase, “your old men will dream dreams.” The fact is, when my 70-year-old dad walked down those stairs and glimpsed the mess in that basement, he saw the potential, he dreamed the dream of an efficiently organized thrift shop where men, women and children could find exactly what they needed, from winter coats to shoes to infant onesies .

As my dad stood at the foot of those basement stairs, the Holy Spirit planted a dream in him that day, and he continues to see it through, one pair of donated shoes at a time.

Can you think of a time in your life in which the Holy Spirit prompted you to dream a dream or a vision? How did you react to that prompt?

{portions of this story are excerpted from the Journal Star article}

 

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