The Blind Man
Last week was my turn to teach Sunday School to the 3-5 years olds. I seem to walk away from these classes feeling like a huge failure of a teacher. I doubt I can bring myself to volunteer for the next season.
Our story was the blind man that Jesus healed. The lesson was about Jesus caring for us. I asked the kids if they knew how Jesus healed the man. I gave them a hint that it was something gross. The first kid said, "Did he touch his head?" I told him that it isn't gross to touch someone's head. So the next kid said, "Did he lick his head?" I love the answers they give. I explained how Jesus spit in the dirt and then put the dirt on the man's eyes.
Then we played a game. I put a blindfold on a kid and handed them a toy or something. They guessed what it was and I would ask, "Can a blind person play with this car?" or "Can a blind person read this book?" They would respond, "NO!" Even when the thing was a comb, and I asked if a blind person could come their hair, they still said, "NO!"
Review time is always good. I asked them what they will tell their parents when their parents ask them what they learned today. One kid answered, "God!" Always the right answer.
Church was going extra long on that Sunday, which I had told the pastor before hand that I didn't want him to go long because I was teaching the kids, but he apparently forgot. So I asked the kids if they wanted to play outside in the courtyard. I made them promise me that they wouldn't run away. Of course they promised. So we went out and played Duck, Duck, Goose. They sat in a group (not a circle) and one kid went around saying "duck". When I told him to say "goose" he did and all the kids got up and ran in all different directions, no one knowing what to do. So of course they ran into each other. We did it again and the one who was goose started crying and went to his dad who was my helper. Then a parent came to pick up her kid. That is when three other kids ran down the hall, escaping. So my helper had his hands full with his crying goose and I was holding back a few others who thought they should all just run to the church to find their parents. I got them ushered back into the classroom and asked the helper to see if he could find the escapees, because the parent that picked up her kid said that the service wasn't over yet, she just had to leave.
Well we never did find those kids. I guess they went back to their parents. They can't run away since there is a guard out front, so I wasn't too worried. And no parents came looking for their kids later so I assume they found them. But I felt like a dufus for not being able to control my class. My only hope is that they somehow learned that Jesus cares for them.
Our story was the blind man that Jesus healed. The lesson was about Jesus caring for us. I asked the kids if they knew how Jesus healed the man. I gave them a hint that it was something gross. The first kid said, "Did he touch his head?" I told him that it isn't gross to touch someone's head. So the next kid said, "Did he lick his head?" I love the answers they give. I explained how Jesus spit in the dirt and then put the dirt on the man's eyes.
Then we played a game. I put a blindfold on a kid and handed them a toy or something. They guessed what it was and I would ask, "Can a blind person play with this car?" or "Can a blind person read this book?" They would respond, "NO!" Even when the thing was a comb, and I asked if a blind person could come their hair, they still said, "NO!"
Review time is always good. I asked them what they will tell their parents when their parents ask them what they learned today. One kid answered, "God!" Always the right answer.
Church was going extra long on that Sunday, which I had told the pastor before hand that I didn't want him to go long because I was teaching the kids, but he apparently forgot. So I asked the kids if they wanted to play outside in the courtyard. I made them promise me that they wouldn't run away. Of course they promised. So we went out and played Duck, Duck, Goose. They sat in a group (not a circle) and one kid went around saying "duck". When I told him to say "goose" he did and all the kids got up and ran in all different directions, no one knowing what to do. So of course they ran into each other. We did it again and the one who was goose started crying and went to his dad who was my helper. Then a parent came to pick up her kid. That is when three other kids ran down the hall, escaping. So my helper had his hands full with his crying goose and I was holding back a few others who thought they should all just run to the church to find their parents. I got them ushered back into the classroom and asked the helper to see if he could find the escapees, because the parent that picked up her kid said that the service wasn't over yet, she just had to leave.
Well we never did find those kids. I guess they went back to their parents. They can't run away since there is a guard out front, so I wasn't too worried. And no parents came looking for their kids later so I assume they found them. But I felt like a dufus for not being able to control my class. My only hope is that they somehow learned that Jesus cares for them.
Comments
And I haven't heard the word dufus in quite awhile. Nice.