When thinking about planning for 125 (see previous entries if you don’t know what that is), I try to combine creativity and interactiveness (I think I might have just made that word up) with Bible lessons that the kids will remember for at least a day after we teach them. So, awhile ago, when we talked about Joseph being in prison, we cut out/colored paper bars to put on the window. This was hilarious to me until the next day when a 6-year-old told her mom that it was because, “all we did was learn about what it’s like to be in jail.” Clearly that was not as good of an idea as I originally thought…
People are funny.
Whenever a new person/family checks in, I try to assess how their stay here is going to be. After almost 6 months, I am still only occasionally really good at this. One of those times was last week, when a woman and her enormous fur coat showed up at midnight. When the policeman dropping her off described her as being “preachy”, that didn’t register in my half-asleep brain. But within seconds of meeting her, I knew I was in for a real treat. She began telling me all about how she was pregnant with twins because she was “the chosen one” and how she wouldn’t be able to sleep in a room near other women because they would try to steal “him” away from her.
Based on other things she said, I’m pretty sure she was talking about Jesus, but I didn’t know how to reasonably explain to her that Jesus is shareable (again, a word I possibly just invented). She tried to convince me to let her sleep in the office beneath the Christmas tree because “He would like that. He loves Christmas, and trees. Everything I say can be backed up by Scripture.” At this point, I figured I could either ask her to show me where in the Bible it says that, or just give her a blanket and explain that I’d be unable to accommodate her wishes. I chose the latter, at which point she said, “You’re lucky I don’t have my flaming sword right now.”
I’m not sure it was luck I was feeling at that moment…but I do know that I was real careful not to have my back to her from that point on.
A few days later, a woman staying here told me repeatedly that I’m “the nicest skinny person” she’s ever met. I am never quite sure how to respond to comments like that, so I usually just laugh nervously and thank them questioningly (thanks…?).
But I mean, between that and not being hacked into bits by fiery weapons, I’d say I had a pretty darn good week.