Flannelgraph Faith

It was a day like every other day, a night like every Wednesday night, yet heaven reached down to earth that day – January 19, 1994. 

I was a giddy eight year old attending my local AWANA club with my Bible memory book in hand and my little red Sparky vest ironed and buttoned neatly, bedecked with all the crowns and jewels that I had earned over the previous two years.  In fact, I had just turned eight two weeks before, and my dad was to turn thirty-seven the very next day.  Even so, the evening had been like many others.  I arrived just before 6 o’clock and played with my friends until the whistle blew.  I had recited the Bible verses to my leader, Mrs. Campbell, which I had memorized the previous week.  Now I sat eagerly, awaiting the beginning of “Council Time," as we called it.

Mrs. Peggy, as she insisted on being called, rather than Mrs. Berry, was like a grandmother to all of us.  She was our favorite leader, and it was her time to share the lesson tonight.  We cheerfully heard the news and quieted down, sitting up straight with our legs crossed.  We were arranged on colored strips of Velcro by on our color team.  I sat on the blue line, hands folded, as Mrs. Peggy approached the front of room.  She smiled and greeted us, encouraging us to jump up and join her in singing “Father Abraham.”  The entire room echoed, as we sang as loudly as we could, then as softly as we could, left arm and right foot in, turning around, and finally sitting down, laughing and smiling.  That’s when she retrieved the felt board from behind the podium and propped it up beside her stool.

My class and I loved flannelgraph stories.  It was so fun to watch the teacher put up the felt people and move them around to illustrate the story.  Compared to a static poster, the flannelgraph seemed revolutionary.  The felt pieces that she pulled out, however, were not the typical Jesus and his disciples.  Instead, they were words and symbols.  She placed up a piece of felt that read “John 3:16.”

“Who can tell me John 3:16?” Mrs. Peggy asked, as she placed the felt on the board.  Immediately wiggling hands shot into the air all around the room, seeking to gain her attention. 

John 3:16 – it was the first verse that I had memorized over two years earlier when a neighborhood friend had invited my sister and I to attend AWANA.  I was only in kindergarten at the time and could not read on my own, so my mom had practiced saying the verse to me, and I repeated it back to her every day until I could say the Scripture perfectly on my own.  I had heard the verse for years in Sunday school, and I had seen it on posters and t-shirts and bumper stickers, but it never spoke to me the way that it did in the next few moments of that wintry night.

“Wow!  So many eager volunteers!  How about we all say it together?” she smiled.  “John 3: 16.”  We all joined in, “For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Phrase by phrase Mrs. Peggy began to put the words of the verse onto the board with their corresponding symbol – a cloud for the word God, a heart for loved, and a little globe for world.  I had never seen the verse illustrated, and frankly, I had never really thought about what it all meant.  For the past two years I had just parroted the words, simply an arrangement of letters and sounds in my head, but as Mrs. Peggy put those felt words on the board, my heart was pierced.

“Do you know that God loves you?” she asked us, looking into our eyes, each in turn.  “That he loves you, and you, and you?” she continued, pointing at a few of us.  I nodded in affirmation.

I was a good girl, jovial in spirit and generous.  I knew that Jesus loved me and it made me happy, but it was nothing new.  I had heard it many times before.

“Do you know that he loves you so very, very much that he was willing to give up his own son for you?  You see, we each have done bad things.  Can you think of something that you did this week, some time when you disobeyed your parents and did something that you knew was wrong?”

I nervously recalled a time when I had been mean to my sister that week.  I was her big sister, but sometimes I got a bit pushy and bossy when I felt that she was in the way or if things were not fair.  I tried to justify it and excuse the behavior, but deep down, I knew that it was wrong.  A sinking feeling entered my stomach.  I did not want Mrs. Peggy to know about that time.

“We have all done bad things.  We have all disobeyed God’s rules for our lives.  I have too, and for this we deserve punishment.”  

My slight relief at her confession was met with instant fear at the thought of God’s punishment.

“We all deserve to ‘perish,’” she said, placing the fiery image on the board.  “Based on our actions, we deserve to be separated from God forever and to suffer in great pain.” 

Panic entered my little soul.  ‘Separated from God forever and ever?’ I thought.  The idea was unbearable, not to mention the thought of pain for the rest of my life after life.

“But Jesus came.  He offers us a free gift – everlasting life – an eternity of joy and peace, of forgiveness and love.  If you ask Jesus to come into your heart and to save you from your sin, then he will set you free.”

Jesus could save me from this terrible fate?  I knew that I was in trouble and that I needed this salvation from my sins right now, before the night was up!  I had to act quickly.  A fire was burning inside me.  God was calling me to himself.

As Mrs. Peggy dismissed the group, I approached my leader.  She seemed in a rush, so I was a bit hesitant, but I knew that the need was dire.  “Can we talk about the lesson, Mrs. Campbell?  I need Jesus to save me from my sin.  I don’t want to be separated from him forever,” I asked.

She thought through her evening schedule and realized that did not have time to talk after games, since she needed to take her children home after club and put them to bed.  “What about right now, during Game Time?” she asked.

Game Time was absolutely my favorite time of the night.  I had always been fast and I loved the thrill of competition.  I loved winning.  If I did not compete, then I could probably not have any candy at the end of the night either.  I thought about it for a moment, counting the cost, but quickly agreed that this could not wait.  Jesus was knocking.

Mrs. Campbell led me down to the storage room, filled with stacks of chairs and choir robes.  In the corner by the book shelf we pulled two chairs together and she read through a tract.  It was filled with verses from Romans that I had previously memorized, but now they came to life.  Now I understood!  The truth leapt off the page, as she told of how my sin separated me from God, but that God, rich in mercy and abounding in love, offered me the free gift of salvation.  The fire burned in my soul, as I prayed the sinner’s prayer, asking for him to come into my life and to be my Savior and Lord.

I left the room that evening overjoyed at the love of God and eagerly telling my friends and family about Jesus!  It might have seemed like an ordinary night to most of my fellow Sparkies, but it was truly a life-changing moment for me – the night when God first spoke to me, and yes, through Mrs. Peggy and her flannelgraph!