Well, I did it. I agreed to serve as the Storyteller for the month of March for the children of our church.
I dressed up like Abraham (ancient robe and a burgundy sash to match my glasses and lipstick–hey, I had to have some fashion sense) and told the story of Abraham parting ways with Lot. I carried a walking stick that confused the children into thinking I was Moses. Some called out, “It’s Moses! It’s Moses!”
I corrected them and told my story: Abraham gave Lot the good land to make peace. My “good land” props included a bean bag and restful pillow along with a picnic basket of random plastic food that would have never been available: pancake mix, sushi, and even some plastic bottled milk. The good land would have a giant stuffed Dalmatian dog, too, for reasons I cannot explain to you.
My land to the west was a pile of rocks on the stage. One child was Abraham and sat on the rocks. This must not have been comfortable. Another child was Lot and lounged in the bean bag.
I tried my best.
The lesson was all about what Abraham must have known about God in order to give up the “good land” and trust in God’s provision.
I carried the giant stuffed dog to help me tell my story, and I let the kindergarten children pet the dog. The dog had nothing to do with my story, but his presence somehow made the children listen. What I lacked in historical accuracy, I made up for in the truth that Abraham trusted God to love him, care for him, and lead him. And God could see ahead to what Abraham and Lot could not see.
One older child called out, “Lot was living near Sodom!”
I had failed to bring props for Sodom.
In the end, I learned that I loved the children as they filed past me to pet the stuffed dog. I loved how they all agreed that it was OK to give the good land away because God would take care of Abraham. The “good land” of more toys, less chores, and all the prizes that everyone else gets in life? Well, maybe the real good land is wherever God’s presence is. I hope they learned this.
I did.
(Maybe they’re just thinking about the dog. I’m not sure.)
Next week, I’m introducing them to Isaac. Whatever shall I wear?