Church Activities

We used to make up bad words - words that would hurt the target and satisfy the shooter. Being in a church setting, we had to keep it PG not because we had a choice, but because that was all our elementary minds knew. We bullied 4th graders because we were 5th graders. We bullied 8th graders because two 5th graders made one 10th grader. Our created words were the funniest things to us, and we would ping pong back and forth to see who got the smash hit that would irresistibly cause the ball to, well, have a ball and laugh to tears with us.

"You have a wrinkle-butt!"

"Your face is a butt-crunch!"

Any time the word 'butt' came up, it was automatically too funny to be an insult. But words were only the beginning. We would run around the church and start wars, using old dolls, stuffed animals, and children's books as weapons and chairs and tables as forts. All this would be happening while the adults were eating lunch in the kitchen.

"Yah! needul bahp muguh!" (Hey! You guys food eat!)

We would eat as quickly as possible and then take a box of matches up the hills into the back lot where we would light any animate object (usually insects) on fire. We used to stomp on bees and see their guts spill out (which was usually white and not yellow like honey) and explore the tropical deserts as we endured the pines that pierced through our socks. Then it was time for fireworks. I would buy these tiny tnt looking firecrackers, which were probably illegal, from the Mexican ice cream truck, place it on the playground swings and then light them on fire. "Just like looney tunes!" One time we lit one string and ran to a safe distance, but when the cracker didn't go off for awhile I boldly but cautiously crept up to check ifBOOOM! ... and my face blew up. or at least I thought so because it stung like a bumble bee, or a hornet.

Speaking of Hornets, we used to play basketball on top of the parking lot hill that doubled as a full court with only one basket. Playing ball was tricky because there was a steep 47 degree hill right behind the hoop, as in the pole was cemented into the very edge of the cliff. This made airballs deathballs. If you made an airball then you would have to climb all the way down the weed infested hill (which was waist high) to retrieve the ball as everyone stared you down and let you know how bad you are. That's why I never make airballs now. Three words. Magic Mountain baby.

After all that we, or now I, would get into fights and throw handfuls of rocks high in the air, first as a scare tactic, and then... never again after one of my bullets decided to hit the pastor's son square on his head - instant fruit punch fountain from the think tank. Ohhhh yeaaahh noooo! I got yelled at and then ran out to play again like nothing happened. I did feel bad though. Like bada~~!

But running and playing wasn't all fun and games. We were avid readers as well. There was one Sunday in particular when my friend brought to church Dragonball Volume 42, the last and final and most epic and gg pwnage and long-awaited manga in the history of saiyankind. We hid in the backseat of a car and read through as much as we could before the evil androids caught us saving the world one panel at a time.

When church was over we would walk to each others' houses and play N64 all day long and then watch a video. Sadly, I was rarely allowed to sleep over friends' places (but allowed to have friends sleep over my place. weird. my parents love me.) so the 4 or 5 times that I did, I. was. so. excited! while everyone else was thinking 'eh another sleepover.'

Then I would count down to next Sunday.

Oh and of course I remember the people too, especially the ones we were a nuisance to. I remember Mimi and Gina teacher in particular, the twins who did body worship and bible studies and everything in between. I thought that was how all churches did it - hire twins as ushers, or body worshipers, or offering basketers, or anything that's good in pairs. I heard that back in the days before the internet was in the average household, the twins would listen to Christian radio stations and whenever they heard a new song they would write down the lyrics, learn the piano part, create the body worship, make the transparency for the overhead, and introduce the final product to us on Sunday mornings. Now that I think about the dedication and effort they put into teaching us God's Word I can't help but thank God because I still remember not specific words they said (except 'Oh my peanut!' sorry another story), but their love in their actions and their sacrifice.

When all the "church activities" are done and all the discussions settle down the only thing that's left is His perfect LOVE for me in His Action and His Sacrifice. So take heart my heart. Dedicate once again and even more so to making disciples of all nations. Laugh, but this time give Words of Life. Make war, but this time in the spiritual battlefield. Set a fire, but this time fire up a passion for Jesus name. Read, but this time read and meditate on God's Word. Fight and throw rocks! No, don't fight, pursue after peace. Play, but this time spell check and pray. Visit, but this time go over to each others' spiritual houses. Count down, but this time wait for the Lord and take heart.

Begin to ACT in Love.