Look at Mine

It was Sunday morning. I was the Sunday School Pastor dressed up as Joseph in my paper bag dreamcoat, minus the technicolors, parading into the preschool classroom (Genesis 37:3). Within moments, the children caught on to my game: “Pastor Silly (an affectionate term they call me), your dreamcoat is missing the colors!” 

So every child, one by one, helped embellish my plain, brown coat with many unique lines, shapes, and colors. As they colored, the preschoolers moved from my coat to their own freshly colored coats. “Pastor Silly, look at mine!” Again, “Look at mine!” And, again, “Look at mine!” Of course, I had to get down on my knees and, one by one, investigate and compliment every child’s coat of eclectic colors, shapes, and lines.

I was reminded that even our youngest children have a desire to know that their creations matter and each is respected and valued as they color the world with their unique, God-given spiritual gifts. As parents, it’s our primary job to parade into our children’s lives to share their special discoveries.

Too often we wait until after we’ve cleaned out our email box, finished that final load of laundry, or sent yet another text message. We might miss that special “dreamcoat” opportunity. As often as you can, when they call, “Look at me or look at mine” – get down on your knees alongside them and experience their creations.

Each one of those experiences form a mosaic of wonderful dreams that God has planted in our children. Collect those curiosities and put them in a special journal that you pray over as your child grows deeper into God’s loving ways--almost like “putting on the clothes of Christ” (Galatians 3:27). If you see the color of compassion, pray for a deepening in their heart for others. If you see joy, pray for joy that is never-ceasing. If you see wonder, pray for a continued holy curiosity. Each unique color will surely be blessed by God.

The Sunday School class ended with each child putting on and modeling their colored coats for their parents and saying “Mommy, Daddy, look at mine.” Each left filled with God’s love of many colors. Those colors will surely change the world in God’s name.

Brian Norsman enjoys life abundantly as a father, husband, family Pastor, and systems innovator. He resides in Stillwater, MN.  This article was written for www.vibrantfaithathome.org, where it originally appeared.

From a Hotspot to a Holyspot

Who is really in the driver's seat? I wrote this article for parent's on Vibrant Faith@Home http://vibrantfaithathome.org/index.php/articles/parenting-children/411-from-hotspot-to-holyspot to find holy time in a car ride...

It was the first day of Kindergarten. We left home in a frenzy for the 20 minute car ride to school. The stars aligned as we managed to bathe, dress, and then brush the teeth of our tired 5 year old, George. I buckled him into his car seat, and we sped off.

Within moments he asked me a tough theological question, “Dad, can you turn on your iPhone's hotspot so I can play Ice Age online on your iPad?” Number one, how does a 5 year old know what an internet hotspot is? Number two, why has technology so complicated our human communication?

So, I told George, “No…not until we get to the stoplight. No technology. Just you and me. A new rule… the two of us WILL talk to each other.” To which he responded, “Daaaaaad!” Adolescence can’t be starting already I thought to myself.

I realized that if I didn’t develop a ritual then, I’d miss out on very holy time, in the altar of the car, every day. No distractions, no technology, no talk radio, no ear phones--nothing but the two of us, talking, and singing, and laughing and having fun.

So, for the past 3 weeks, for 10 technology-free minutes, from the driveway to the stoplight, we have an understanding as father and son. During that time, holy time happens; talking happens. We share highs and lows of the previous day. We talk about school. We’ve sung VBS songs, hymns, and rock-n-roll songs together at the top of our lungs. We talk about Bible stories and family memories. And, sometimes we even spend the entire 20 minute ride just talking. When he arrives at school, our kindergartener unbuckles his seatbelt, pulls his forehead forward, and I bless him with the sign of the cross. “Jesus loves you, George. Have a great day.” And, with tears in my eyes I watch my little boy walk away.

I pray that from that car seat until the time he takes over the driver seat, there will always be an expectation. No “hotspot” but a “holy spot,” where burning bushes (Exodus 3:5) take place in the domains of an ordinary car ride.

Take some time to remove your sandals as a parent on your next car ride. You’ll find out Who is really in the driver’s seat each day.
Brian Norsman enjoys life abundantly as a father, husband, family Pastor, and systems innovator. He resides in Stillwater, MN.

Waiting for a Cue

It was mealtime. All five of us were gathered around the dinner table, along with 11 month-old baby George in his high chair. We had been teaching George how to pray for the past month: Fold your hands together, bow your head, and say your prayer first . . . then eat. 

Only this evening, extreme hunger and preoccupation with our favorite meal of grilled burgers, set in. We added the condiments, passed around our side dishes and bit into our juicy burgers.

As we paused to converse some time later, we realized our baby, who was usually chatty, noisy banging dishes, clanking silverware, and dropping food, was completely quiet. There must be something wrong.

We gazed over from our half-eaten plates and saw something that convicted us. George still quietly sat there in his high chair with folded hands ready to pray—waiting for the cue from us.

A little child (Isaiah 11:6) led us that evening. Our hearts were convicted by that child’s innocent understanding on mealtime prayer. First, fold your hands, bow, and pray. Nothing more, nothing less.

Four years later, he is the prayer consultant every mealtime. Which prayer George? Superman, Johnny Appleseed, Love Love, Jaws, Adams Family, or a spontaneous prayer? We fold our hands, bow, and wait for a cue from him. We pray . . . then eat . . . always.

Every child is waiting for a faith cue from us. What’s important in our home becomes important to our children. Student has become teacher. With faith in the home, everyone is the teacher. If you build a foundation of faith early, faith will come back and surprise you, over and over.

Parents fold your hands, bow, and pray today about what you would like your kids to live out in their faith four years from now or forty years from now when they’ll teach their kids. Will it be mealtime prayer, a nightly blessing of the cross, a monthly service project, reading a daily bible verse, or listening to your favorite Christian band? What you model for them now will go with them into the next generation.

They’re waiting for a cue from us.Brian Norsman enjoys life abundantly as a father, husband, family Pastor, and systems innovator. He resides in Stillwater, MN.

Flip the Switch

I wrote this article for Vibrantfaithathome.org for Dad's to step out in faith and "flip the switch: 

“Daddy, play with me!” 

“George, not now . . . just a second”

I was in my man cave, my home office, working on a project that I deemed important. Seconds became minutes . . . minutes became an hour.

“Daddy, where are you?” Timeless words from Genesis 3:8-9 ring out from the Garden of Eden, only reversed. 

“Still in here, George.”

He ran back into my office, jumped on my back, climbed on my shoulders, and jumped up and down demanding my attention. Miraculously, I continued typing out an email. God in heaven was asking me, “Where are you?” And, I still didn’t get it.

My anger stirred. “George, stop that. I’m almost done. I’ll be right there.” 

So, he jumped off my shoulders and ran away dejected. I then realized what I had done, and my heart was convicted. I flipped off the computer switch and ran out to find George.

As dads, our children want our attention. We have a limited window to step in and to be present for them. Yet, somehow work makes its way home, and we retreat into our man caves. Our natural intention is to decompress when we should really fast break on our home court.

Our kids are calling out for our time and our presence. “Come play with me.” “Watch me, Daddy.” “I’m ready to be tucked in.” Much of the time there is only silence. “Where are you Daddy?”

Recently I’ve adopted a tool called “Flip the Switch.” Before I walk in the door at home or the moment a child wakes up, I pray for a renewed attitude and presence. I make myself the most affirming, available, and authentic adult possible for my kids. When I want to retreat, it’s time to shoot hoops, build a fort, or enter into a world of make believe. When I’m tempted to send one more email, it’s time instead to send my child a signal they are the most beloved treasure in the world. When I want to start a project, it’s time to start a pillow fight or a game of four-square. 

Dads, I am cutting to the heart and asking, how can you “flip the switch” this day? Your children are waiting.

Brian Norsman enjoys life abundantly as a father, husband, family Pastor, and systems innovator. He resides in Stillwater, MN.

Hannah's Blessing

This story was recently published as a Parenting Children article in VibrantFaithatHome.org.

She was my five year-old godchild, Hannah. In Hebrew, her name means full of grace. I was living with her family for a few months as I started my first call as a Pastor.

One summer morning, I was running late for work. Anxiously, I skipped breakfast and ran out the door to my car in the driveway. I jumped in, closed the door, and turned on the ignition.

Suddenly, Hannah opened the front door and yelled from the doorstep: “Brian, you forgot something!” I thought to myself, “Ah, not today.”

“Brian, you forgot something!” she repeated. My internal stress started to rise. I was now definitely late to work. So, I rolled down the window, and impatiently yelled back, “What is it Hannah? I’m late. I have to go.”

At that moment, I experienced a bit of heaven on earth through a little girl’s grace-filled heart. Here’s the miracle that occurred: Hannah marked the sign of the cross on her forehead. As if she truly believed there was something real on her forehead, she peeled off that “cross” and threw that blessing in the air towards me. Indeed, she was “full of grace.”

At that point, I wasn’t sure what to do. I could drive away and hide my shame for being impatient or I could play the game. I gratefully chose the latter. So, I reached out the car window and enthusiastically grabbed that blessing out of midair. I took her blessing and marked it “grace-fully” on my forehead. I now felt protected, loved, and filled with God’s Spirit for the day ahead.

Thirteen years ago, little Hannah taught me playfully that I was God’s beloved child. Jesus himself took little ones into his arms, lifted them, and said we have to be like children to enter the kingdom of God. (Mark 10:13-16)

How might you drop the unimportant things in your life, be childlike, and bless others today? At the doorstep as you leave for the day? In the calm darkness of your bedtime ritual? Maybe even at the sacred altar of the dinner table? With God all things are possible. If you open your eyes and your heart, grace might be thrown your way!

This article was written for VibrantFaith@Home.org for Hannah and dedicated proudly to her on her graduation from High School.

The "Early Bird Get's the Word"

I live much of my life by the phrase the "early bird gets the worm."  Early morning is the best time of day.  Many times I have taken that statement and twisted it to the "early bird gets the word."  The early bird has a unique opportunity to witness God's activity in the world first.

My typical regiment is to start my day in God's word through blogs, tweets, email devotions, and yes, in God's word, the Bible.  I try to extract a godly inspired theme that propels me, and carries me, throughout my day.

Very early today, I listened to a sermon when I was working out that reminded me that the "early bird gets the worm."  Even Jesus himself believed that as he continuously found Sabbath time along the road with his disciples.

After working out, I usually cool off by jumping into the pool and swimming laps.  My routine ends in sitting on the shallow end of the pool thanking God for the day being born and letting the waters cleanse me baptismally.  Today, I felt God speaking to me clearly in these waters:  "Brian, you're my beloved child.  I wash you clean of your sin and give you new life."  The pool had turned into a pool of grace.  "You are clean, set free, and I give you new life this very day."

I thanked God for the ways he had forgiven me of my stupidity, my jealousy, my judgmentalism, my sensitivity, my failures, and, instead, washed it all clean.  New life had just begun in those waters, like it always does.  And, the "early bird got the word."  The word from God, today.

His Loving Touch

A few years ago I wrote this sermon called "His Loving Touch." It talks about the power of touch and, ultimately, the desire to experience the loving touch of Jesus. 

I sat in the barber’s chair a few weeks ago. I don’t know about you, but I love getting a haircut. The place I get my haircut isn’t an ordinary haircut. It is an experience. Many of us pay top dollar for an experience. For me, it is almost like therapy. The initial neck massage before the shampoo. The shampoo and conditioning massage. Another neck massage. Hair groomed, cut intricately, and cleaned up. Neck given shaving cream and shaved. Hair blown dry and feeling clean and refreshed. You are feeeeeeeeeeeeeling good! 

But what is even more amazing is that I tell my barber everything. My life, my job, my joy and my pains. Politics, religion—it is all fair game. Last week I told them my about my uncle with cancer, my buying a new house, and so much more. And then I listen around in other chairs and the same thing is happening. Same sharing. Same soul bearing. 

Now, I know this doesn’t happen with you…or does it? Why is this the case? Then I finally realized it. It isn’t necessarily just the person cutting your hair. Not just the soothing music. Not the art or décor in the shop. I finally realized what this phenomenon was all about: It was the touch. 

The touch....   

Read the rest at....  His Loving Touch