Prayer Chain: Anna Baiocchi 262.673.6071 firstname.lastname@example.org
Family Promise: Dennis & Jean Albrecht (D) 414.254.1606; (J) 414.254.6144
Faith Ed: Linda Kavanaugh 262.224.0832
Rev. Donald Wright 231.884.4497
Rev. Kathy Vandenberg 262.547.5665
Rev. Francis Baiocchi 262.673.6071
It is good to report that Judy Behlen, Eugene Arndt, Madie & Lexi and Dennis Albrecht are all doing better healthwise, and thank you for your prayerful concern... The September foods collected each Sunday will be brought to the Beaver Dam Food Pantry at month's end by Tom & Linda Schmidt... Communion breads this month are being baked in Nancy Wiedmeyer's kitchen... JOS's web manager Paul Albrecht nowlives in Chicago, but will generously continue to post JOS materials.
Did you hear about the Wisconsin teacher who was helping a kindergarten student put on his winter boots? He asked for help and she saw why. Even with her pulling and his pushing, the little boots wouldn't go on. Finally they did! She worked up a sweat getting the second boot on, and then almost cried when the boy said, “Teacher, they're on the wrong feet.” Sure enough, they were! It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. But she kept her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on – this time on the right feet! The boy then solemnly announced, “These aren't my boots!” she bit her tongue rather than scream “Why didn't you tell me?” like she wanted to. So once more, she helped him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet. No sooner were they off when he said, “They're my brother's boots. Mom made me wear them.” She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but mustered up her last ounce of grace and courage to wrestle the boots back on. Then, helping him get into his jacket, she asked, “Now where are your mittens?” He replied, “I stuffed them into the toes of my boots.”
Paul's Letter to the Philippians is called his “letter of joy.” Though he writes from a prison cell, his affection for this community shines brightly despite his concern for his immanent personal danger. He writes candidly about his fate; death means reuniting with the Lord, while life means ongoing service to Christ. Either way, he wins, content with his future.
Now that is a relaxed posture to possess! We modern-day control freaks want a little more input, a little more leverage. We take life-and-death issues with a bit more gravity. (To be completely honest, we take decorating homes with more gravity!) To have our priorities in order like Paul is to have no priorities beyond Christ: “Whether I live or whether I die, Christ will be exalted!” Is this true of us? (adapted from the writings of Alice Camille)
The Power Within Pity the substitute teacher who enters a classroom feeling insecure! Students sense the uncomfortableness, and chaos is most likely to break out. On the other hand, pity students when a teacher is authoritarian, lording it over them simply because he/she can. What students need is someone with knowledge and competence, a teacher with true uthority derived from genuine love both for the subject and for the students. With that kind of authority in hand, you can stand four feet eleven inches and get respect from all in the class, even from burly football players. Jesus spoke with that kind of authority, and even the demons listened and obeyed him. Jesus shares such authority with each of us through prayer and trust in him.
Early one morning several teachers and staffers at a Connecticut grade school were at a meeting. The meeting had been underway for about five minutes when they heard a chilling sound in the hallway. (“We heard pop-pop-pop” said one of the staffers later.) Most of them dove under the table. That is the reasonable thing to do, what they had been trained to do, and that is what they did.
But two of the staffers jumped or lept or lunged from their chairs and ran toward the sound of bullets. Which word you use depends on which news account of that morning you read, but the words all point in the same direction: toward the bullets. One of the staffers was the principal. Her name was Dawn. She had two daughters. Her husband had proposed to her five times before she finally said yes, and they had been married ten years. They had a vacation house on the lake. She liked to get down on her knees to paint with the littlest kids in the school.
The other staffer was a school psychologist named Mary. She had two daughters. She was a football fan and had been married more than thirty years. She and her husband had a cabin on a lake. She loved to go to the theater. She was due to retire in a year. She liked to get down on her knees to work in her garden.
Dawn the principal told the teachers and staffers to lock the door behind them. They ran out to the hall. You and I have been in that hallway. We spent many years of our childhood in that hallway. As they ran, every fiber of their being must have wanted to dive under the table. That's how they were trained. That's how you live to see another day. That's how you stay alive to paint with the littlest kids and work in the garden and hug your daughters. But they lunged at the boy with the rifle.
The next time someone says the word hero to you, you say this: There once were two women, one named Dawn, the other named Mary. They both had two daughters and loved to kneel down to care for small beings. They leapt from their chairs and ran right at the boy with the rifle. If we ever forget what they did and that there is something in us that snarls at death and runs roaring to defend children, if we ever forget that all children are our children, then we are fools. What good are we then? What good are we then? (adapted for space limitation)