Meatloaf and Mashed Potatoes

Last night our youth group prepared a meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, green beans and brownies for the folks at our local night shelter. First of all, any idea what kind of task it is to willingly gather 20 or so teenagers into a kitchen with 10lbs of ground beef and a bag of potatoes and hand them knives? I don't have that receptor in my brain that tells me not to.

For some of them I think it was a novel idea to "cook" food. We set up several stations to create the illusion of some sort of order and organization. When I looked in on the potato peeling station I physically winced at the knife skills while I made mental notes of how many fingers were on each hand. I peeked through kids standing shoulder to shoulder staring deep into the stainless steel sink trying to figure out how to wash a dish. When we were done baking, simmering, boiling and foiling, we packed up our spread and loaded the van.

During the course of the week I had asked for a maximum of 10 kids to go with me to serve our meal at the shelter. During the course of the week I had a hand full of mamas signing their kids up to serve ... mostly because "it'll be good for 'em." Mamas always want their kids to do stuff like this to open their eyes, build character, fix what's wrong with 'em. And that's okay. My mama did that too. Before we started in the kitchen, I had 5 kids signed up to go to the shelter to serve. Somewhere between slicing onions and mooshing ground beef, they became invested and 18 of 'em wanted to go serve. What? I'm gonna say no?

It was a little crowded in the small shelter kitchen but we managed to set up an orderly serving area, make drinks and wait for our dinner guests. One by one the residents of the shelter came through the door - taking a breathalizer before they were allowed in. My kids stood ready with slotted spoons hovering over the food they had prepared - would it taste okay? Did we have un-sweetened tea? When would they eat? How many would there be? Are they really homeless?

I offered up a nervous blessing and our guests shuffled through the line. My kids smiled and filled their plates. They got into the groove and pretty soon they were doing it .... they were feeding folks who were hungry. I don't even know if they knew that's what they were doing. But then a few of 'em blew me away. They came out of the kitchen. They sat down at a table and started conversations with some of the guests. Maybe that's what their mamas wanted! I don't know. I don't know if it fixed any of 'em. I don't know if they'll think about it today in school. But maybe they'll tuck it away in the back of their mind .... and maybe, just maybe it planted a tiny, little seed.

Follow Mii ...

I played on a Wii for the first time about a 2 months ago. My husband Tom and I boxed. I found out pretty quickly that I'm one of those Wii players for which the wrist bands on the controller are necessary. I get very "involved" and need to be physically backed up from the TV and constantly reminded that there are small children and breakables in the room. After doing our taxes, looks like we'll be getting a little bit back this year. So despite the economy, better judgment and practicality, we decided it would be fun to get a Wii for our family. (That's one of the great things about having kids ... you can justify wreckless adult decisions by saying, "It's for the family." ) Anywho, we brought the Wii home, got it hooked up and started playing right away.

One of the things you have to do to get started is create a "Mii". A Mii is the identity you use to play games. Once created, your Mii saves and stores your game data. You can make it male or female; choose its body type, hair, coloring, facial structure, birth marks, eyebrows, smile, frown, scowl, etc. It goes on forever. But it's pretty fun to try and create yourself based on physical menu options. Of course you can also create someone who's nothing like you. We all had fun making up our Miis. Tom and I were pretty true to our physical characteristics - give or take a few pounds. Max, our 6 year old, started building this guy with long hair, a beard, sort of lean and lanky ... Tom and I kept commenting on how rough his guy looked. Max never said much while he was thoughtfully choosing a beard and mustache. When you're done creating your Mii you name it by punching in the letters on a keypad. Max slowly searched for each letter ... "J" ..... "E" ....."Z" ..... "U" ...... "S" .... He turned to his dad and I, "Jezus is my guy." I swear the kid's a prophet. Max uses Jezus for snowboarding, cow racing, bowling, boxing and even ping-pong. I look up, there's Jezus delivering an upper cut or slashing through some gnarly snow. Max's Jezus IS in everything he does, no matter how mundane or trivial.

It is just part of the game to build simulated characters, but I believe what Max did was very intentional. Regardless of how well he understands it, Max made Jezus "his guy." And really, that's all Jezus ever asked us to do.

Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths,
but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.
-- Ann Frank