Grace Across Borders: Biblical Lessons and Global Legends

🎧 Prefer to listen? Click play below to hear this week’s reflection and follow along.

Hi, I’m Tameka, and thank you for being here at Grace Across Borders.

I had a whole different blog written.

A whole different idea.

Last night, I sat in my car fine-tuning it while my daughter was taking her driving test. I even had my laptop with me because my whole plan was to get some work done.

Which now reminds me that I left my laptop in the car.

Anyway.

Instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing, I got stuck watching videos.

So that other blog?

It may or may not still make an appearance for those who subscribe.

Because while I was sitting there scrolling, a little girl came across my screen doing sign language to a praise song.

And just like that, my whole blog changed.

Immediately, I was taken back to my teenage years at Kingston Seventh Day Baptist Church in Jamaica.

The older youths were teaching us younger ones how to sign Lord, I Lift Your Name on High.

And all these years later, I remembered.

My hands remembered.

Something that had been poured into me as a teenager was still there.

And the funny thing is, I protested at the time.

I remember thinking, I’m not deaf or dumb. Why do I need to learn sign language? Why are we doing this?

Teenage me could not understand why it was necessary.

Adult me, sitting in a car decades later, understood.

Something I did not understand the value of while it was being taught had stayed with me all these years.

And immediately, one Scripture came to mind:

“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

So apparently, we are not talking about what I had planned to talk about this week.

Let’s dive into it.

Scripture

Proverbs is a book of wisdom.

It teaches us how to live, how to make decisions, how to handle relationships, how to speak, how to work, and how to walk wisely before God.

And tucked into that wisdom is this instruction:

“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

That verse is familiar.

Maybe too familiar.

Because sometimes we hear a Scripture so often that we stop hearing what it is actually saying.

Train up a child.

Training is intentional.

You do not accidentally train someone.

Training requires teaching.

Repetition.

Correction.

Modeling.

And sometimes saying the same thing so many times that you begin to wonder whether anybody is listening.

But Proverbs 22:6 should not be treated as a guarantee that if you do everything right, your child will never wander, question, struggle, or make choices you wish they would not make.

Proverbs is wisdom literature.

It teaches us something about formation.

What we put into children matters.

What they hear matters.

What they see matters.

What we model matters.

And sometimes those things remain tucked away inside of them long after we think they have forgotten.

Jesus also showed us how important children are to God.

In Matthew 19, people brought children to Jesus so that He could place His hands on them and pray for them.

The disciples tried to stop them.

But Jesus said:

“Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 19:14

That old word suffer simply means to allow them.

Let them come.

Do not stand in their way.

Bring them near.

There is something powerful about giving children access to God before they fully understand everything being poured into them.

Understanding may come later.

But the seed can be planted now.

Folklore

There is a Caribbean saying:

“Plantain sucker follow de root.”

If you have ever seen a plantain tree, you understand the picture.

New suckers spring up around the older plant.

They grow beside what came before them.

And isn’t that how children learn so much of life?

Before they understand our lectures, they are watching us.

Before they can explain our values, they are observing them.

Before they know all the words to our prayers, they hear us praying.

Before they completely understand faith, they are watching what we do when life becomes difficult.

The next generation is watching the one before it.

Training a child is not only about what we tell them.

It is also about what we show them.

Reflection

Growing up in Jamaica, it felt like we had a church every square mile.

Whatever denomination your family belonged to, whatever day you worshipped, there was probably somewhere nearby for you to go.

And one thing I remember about growing up was that even when some parents did not go to church themselves, they made sure the children went.

Saturday or Sunday, you were going somewhere.

There was something about putting children in the presence of God that people seemed to understand.

There was no separation of church and state that I have come to know in the US.

Church was not completely separate from the rest of community life either.

The people teaching us during the week were often some of the same people we saw serving God.

One of my teachers, Mrs. Chambers, was also the pastor’s wife at my church.

Before that, I attended a basic school connected to a church that was run by the father of the man I am married to today. We called it Father Gooden Basic School.

Then I went on to what I thought of as a regular government school, and even there, faith and music found their way into our lives.

We had choirs in school.

We had choirs in church.

We sang.

We learned.

And the songs stayed.

There was a principal at my primary school who taught us songs that I still remember today.

She died before I even graduated from primary school.

I never forgot her.

And I never forgot the songs she taught us.

Think about that.

She left this earth before I even finished primary school, but something she poured into me as a child lived on.

There is also a song I learned in children’s church that I can still sing today.

It talked about loving other children, caring enough to know your neighbor, noticing when someone did not have enough to eat, helping meet another person’s needs, and refusing to let the color of someone’s skin determine how we love them.

It imagined what the world might look like if children led with that kind of innocence and love instead of growing into adults who hurt one another.

And there we were.

Children.

Singing a song.

But somebody was teaching us theology.

Somebody was teaching us that loving Jesus should affect how we love people.

To see our neighbor.

To notice hunger.

To care about need.

To look beyond skin color.

To value peace.

At the time, it was just a song.

Now I understand that somebody was planting something.

And it stayed.

Were there times I did not want to go to church?

Absolutely.

Were there things they taught me that I did not understand the purpose of at the time?

Clearly.

I was the teenager asking why I needed to learn sign language when I could hear just fine.

But somebody kept teaching anyway.

An older youth.

A teacher.

A principal.

A pastor’s wife.

A church auntie.

At the time, none of them knew which lesson would stick.

Which Scripture would come back.

Which song we would still be singing decades later.

Which movement our hands would somehow remember while sitting alone in a car.

But some of it stayed.

And that means even more to me now because I struggle with brain fog.

I have been very transparent with you all through this blog, and for me, brain fog is more than simply walking into a room and forgetting why I went in there.

I can wake up at four in the morning and think, I need to call the doctor and make that appointment for my daughter today.

I know I need to do it.

And then six o’clock that evening comes, and suddenly I am thinking, Wasn’t there something I was supposed to do today?

Gone.

Completely wiped from my mind.

I do not know exactly what causes that for me.

I do not know whether it is medication, everything my body has been through, or something else.

But here is what amazes me.

I can forget something I needed to do this morning and remember a song somebody taught me when I was a child.

I can struggle to hold on to something new, yet remember something that was poured into me decades ago.

Maybe that is part of the reason God led me to start this blog.

Maybe part of it is preservation.

Preserving memories.

Preserving lessons.

Preserving the songs.

Preserving the stories.

Because what people poured into me mattered.

And so much of it stayed.

That is also one of the reasons I incorporated folklore into this blog.

Before everybody had access to books, before everybody could read, and long before we could pull out a phone and search for whatever we wanted to know, people told stories.

Families gathered.

Communities gathered.

Stories were passed down from one generation to the next.

Some people say Anansi stories are foolishness.

I don’t.

How many times have we used an Anansi story right here and discovered that hidden inside that funny little story was a lesson about greed, pride, honesty, accountability, wisdom, patience, consequences, or grace?

Our ancestors were geniuses.

I don’t think we give them enough credit.

They understood something about teaching.

Sometimes a person may forget your lecture.

But they remember the story.

They remember the song.

They remember what Grandma used to say.

They remember the Scripture they learned as a child.

And then one day, life happens.

And it comes back.

So much has changed since I was that child growing up in Jamaica.

The world has changed.

Schools have changed.

Churches have changed.

The way we communicate has changed.

The way children learn has changed.

Technology has changed almost everything about how we live.

But the Word of God still stands.

It has been our rock through the ages.

And we cannot become so caught up in everything that is new that we forget to pass on what has sustained generations before us.

Scripture says:

“The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.” Isaiah 40:8

The world may change.

God’s Word does not.

And that is worth passing on.

There is another song I learned as a child called Pass It On.

Even the title means something different to me now.

Pass it on.

Do not let it stop with you.

Somebody taught you.

Somebody prayed for you.

Somebody brought you to church.

Somebody taught you Scripture.

Somebody gave you a song.

Somebody told you a story.

Now it is our turn.

Because if we do not teach our children these things, what exactly are we expecting them to grow up knowing?

We cannot neglect to teach them love, compassion, generosity, faith, and concern for their neighbor, then be shocked when those things are missing later.

Children eventually become adults.

They become parents.

Teachers.

Pastors.

Leaders.

They become people making decisions that affect somebody else’s life.

One day, they will be the ones running the world.

So here is the question:

Would we want a generation of children running the world after we never trained them how to love the people in it?

We cannot expect them to value their neighbor if we never taught them to see their neighbor.

We cannot expect them to care about the hungry if we never taught them to notice hunger.

We cannot expect them to look beyond the color of someone’s skin if prejudice is what they watched being modeled.

We cannot expect them to choose compassion if compassion was never poured into them.

And we cannot expect them to know Jesus if nobody ever introduces them to Him.

That is why train up a child is not just a cute little verse for a nursery wall.

It is responsibility.

It is stewardship.

They are going to grow up.

The question is:

What are we sending into the world when they do?

So teach them.

Model it.

Tell the stories.

Sing the songs.

Teach them to pray.

Let them see you pray.

Let them see you apologize.

Let them see you forgive.

Let them see you serve.

Let them see what faith looks like when life is good.

But please, let them also see what faith looks like when life hurts.

Give them love.

Give them compassion.

Give them truth.

And above all, give them Jesus.

Recently, I told one of my mentors that I was getting ready to bring a message.

His advice to me was simple:

“Give them Jesus.”

I never forgot it.

Somebody poured those words into me.

And now I am passing them on to you.

Give your children Jesus.

Give your grandchildren Jesus.

Give your nieces and nephews Jesus.

Give the children in your church Jesus.

Give the next generation Jesus.

You may not see the fruit immediately.

You may even wonder whether anything you taught them stuck.

But some lessons sit quietly for years before we realize they are still there.

And by the way…

My daughter passed her driving test.

As happy as I was for her, I found myself thinking about everything I had just been writing.

I pray that somewhere along the way I modeled enough good driving habits for her to stay safe when I am no longer sitting beside her telling her what to do.

And isn’t that parenting in so many ways?

Eventually, they have to take the wheel for themselves.

We cannot steer for them forever.

We teach.

We correct.

We model.

We remind.

We pray.

We give them Jesus.

And then one day, they take the wheel.

We just pray that what we poured into them stays.

Because long after they have forgotten where they first heard it…

long after they have forgotten who taught the lesson…

long after they have grown up and gone their own way…

we might be surprised by what their hands, their mouths, their hearts, and their spirits still remember.

Somebody passed it on to us.

Now let’s make sure we pass it on to them.

Prayer

Holy, righteous, and eternal Father God, we just want to thank You.

I want to thank You for Your presences here with us today.

I want to present every single person who is reading or listening to this blog before You. Father God, we pray that You will continue to attend to their needs. Attend to the aches and pains, Father, and the situations they are dealing with, especially the unspoken requests, Lord God. We place them all before You.

Lord, we pray that You will continue to minister unto them in a special way. Let Your will be done in their lives, Lord God. If they have not already come to know You as Lord and Savior, we pray that they will come to know You for themselves.

Help them to recognize You, Father, in the different areas of their lives. Let this be a season of celebrating You and acknowledging You, for what You are doing, both in secret and in the open.

We thank You, Jesus. We cherish You, and we give You all of us, today and always.

In Jesus’ name, we pray, amen.

Bonus on the recording