Just kidding, I love Fall. I love all the pictures of cute children with their cute backpacks and their Euphoric Parents leaving them off on bright sunny mornings with nice looking teachers. But the official total start of school signals the beginning of Regular Sunday School and that means getting my mind and my life in order enough to let life go on smoothly for others. And that means actually writing all the lessons in my head for which I've made materials, and also actually writing down all the edits I've made in my own mind but which cannot be known to any mind other than mine (and God's) if I don't take the trouble write them down. It all comes, said Eeyore or someone very like him, of taking a theologically coherent (but unfortunately erring) program that's nevertheless lovely and wonderful for children and trying to make it theologically "better", although that is not the word for which I am flailing about.
Which is worse, writing out new lessons from scratch or coloring over in heavy marker the existing offending lines and scribbling in the margins, I do not know. I'm suffering under a heavy dose of both. My new teachers will hopefully let me know forthwith. But it exasperates me that so many things for children, and I'll just go ahead and say that here I mean Godly Play, can on one hand be so well made (the actual materials are beautiful) and on the other hand be so horrifically heretical. And along side that, because, you are asking yourself 'why is she messing around with Godly Play?' why can't Sophia Cavaletti be just a touch less catholic? I'm just kidding. She may go along being herself, and I will go along struggling to use her beautiful work as best I can as a devotedly Reformed Protestant.
Enough with all the kidding. All you Anglicans out there, you who love a little of the Catholic and a little of the Protestant and are tired of the stupid coloring pages, if you take up the strange brew of Godly Play and Catechesis, come complain here and say how you are making it work. Or commission me with some cash on hand, or prayer or candy or something, to write up the beautiful lines I can say with no problem as I adjust on the fly, but which if they were written down, might be more helpful. Just kidding, I don't have time. But wouldn't it be wonderful if I did? Oh the dream.