Dearest Rachel –
For all the mornings I talk to you about meaningless things like my dreams from the previous night, you’d think I’d take the time now and again to fill you in on the more important things that are actually happening in and around my life. Monday nights would be a particular source of interest, as it regularly winds up being the busiest part of an average week for me. But that’s sort of the problem; Daniel and I keep so busy, and we’re so drained by the time we get home from the evening, there’s little more we want to – or can, for that matter – do save for piling into a comfortable chair (or even bed), turning on one television or another, and vegging out until we lose consciousness.
Well, that’s how my Monday nights end; Daniel may somehow manage to stay awake, but even he admitted to me last night how tired he was. Granted, he made a distinction between that and being sleepy, insisting that he was only the former, and not the latter, but still, the point stands; doing our part in helping Sparks run smoothly is a draining job. But it’s a need that has to be filled, and with God’s strength (since it’s for His purpose, after all – more on that as we go on), we’re going to do what we can.
Just don’t expect a letter from me about it all that often.
Even today, I don’t see the need to go into details about specific things that happened last night as opposed to any other. You most likely recall what a typical night in Sparks was like, in any event; the kids check in, meet in the auditorium with the rest of the clubs for games and singing, go upstairs for games (which is more Daniel’s thing than mine), return to the lower level to memorize verses and complete sections in their handbooks (which is where I come in, preparing awards for various milestones passed by each kid), followed by a brief lesson by Miz Joan or one of the other leaders, at which point, the parents arrive to collect their kids. Some of this has been modified since the pandemic, and quite often the order is adjusted for the sake of traffic flow, but those are the general elements that every Monday night contains.
And you would know all this almost better than I would, since you had volunteered to work with these kids years before I did. I think it was originally to keep an eye on Daniel, and to encourage him to participate in the Cubbies program once he turned three, and you followed him to Sparks once he moved up to kindergarten. At that time, I was often hard-pressed to even get home from work by the time you were required to be at club between six and six-thirty, so you granted me permission to stay home. I admit, I was also getting into this new online world at the time, and it was hard to do so any other time than when the house was empty; it was hard to be part of a chat room conversation when there were real-life distractions to deal with.
Eventually, however, you persuaded me to join up, if for no other reason than to make the whole experience a family thing. I tried my hand at leading a team of Sparks, only to discover that I couldn’t even keep a group of four second-grade boys from running amuck. I’m not proud of myself to say that I lost my temper at them several times in futile efforts to get them to calm down, but they somehow sensed that I was powerless to get them to obey, and so they didn’t.
The breaking point came when one of the boys in my group passed away suddenly from some undiagnosed heart ailment a few months later. I wonder if you’ve happened to meet Matthew up there, come to think of it. In any event, there was this realization that I had not been the best representative of Jesus that I could have been for him, and this whole ‘leading kids’ thing was just not for me.
But you persuaded me to stay on, and find a new, more administrative position, assisting Diana in registering kids at the beginning of the night, and preparing awards to hand out to various deserving clubbers by the end of each meeting. It’s worked out well for the better part of a decade and a half. Meanwhile, you were a prominent face among the leaders, always getting into the theme of each night as it came up. I still have these photos of you from the Crazy Hair Night in February of 2020:
And of course, you would often dress up to demonstrate the next week’s theme as well before the kids were dismissed at the end of the night. These days, it takes two leaders (well, two junior leaders, twins, who essentially do everything together – you’d get a kick out of them) to fill your role.
You’d probably also get a kick out of the fact that the number of kids has nearly doubled from the days you might remember being a part of club (which is really part of the reason why I’m telling you about it – along with an explanation as to why we’re so drained at the end of each night; doing twice as much for twice as many kids, no matter what it is, will take it out of you). I’m not sure why; it might be that, after the pandemic, everybody wants to get out and do things. It might be that we’re not charging as much – if at all – for various necessary club paraphernalia – after all, we want to get His word into as many minds and hearts as we can, and sometimes, the expense might just be the prohibitive part of it all. I’m not sure, but it’s reaching them, and I’m sure you would be pleased to know about it.
In fact, probably the only thing that you might not be happy about would be the fact that you no longer get to be a part of filling this need. I recall it being said that the one good thing we can do in our earthly life that we can’t do in heaven is to bring others there, so we have to do as much as we can while we’re here. You’ve been allowed to retire early, for whatever reason, but I wonder if you miss being a part of the process. I’d like to hope you’re looking forward to meeting each of these kids when their time comes to join us (and I say ‘us’ because I assume I’ll be there with you by that time, but you never know), and while I haven’t really talked about any of them specifically (and honestly, given who I am, and who they are, it would be strange if I did), I’d like to think you’d recognize them for who they are and that they’ve been through this learning process that you were a part of, once upon a time.
For now, though, keep an eye on Daniel and me, honey, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 