A Wise Dummy

Recently I was challenged by a devotional on Colossians 2:6 which says, “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him.” He talked about the ways in which we come to faith, that moment when we receive the free gift of salvation and by extension an eternity with our Maker. I started thinking about that moment for me, many years ago, when I first received Christ. The exact moment that I chose, even as a very young child, that all this Jesus stuff was for me. It happened one summer, in a very appropriate place, with a very unusual twist.

As a kid, we get taken to lots of daytime activities in the summer, since our parents seemed to have forgotten what it meant to have a kid around full time. As if the first years of no sleep, constant feeding and dependency were thousands of years before we hit school. But no matter, I loved Vacation Bible School. We had crafts, canoe rides in a lake, zip lines, weird songs that as an adult make no sense whatsoever, and poor high school counselors trying to figure out how to wrangle a bunch of squirmy, loud kids around all day. Being much more social as a child, I loved making new friends. Seemed to be pretty good at it too. So during the summer of 1988, I headed off to a new week at day camp, excited and ready.

Every day camp/VBS has a theme. Some kind of guiding idea that gets infused into every part of the week and into the curriculum. But this time, I was saddened to discover that there wasn’t a theme at this particular camp, but a special guest. I realize that at age 5 I really was not able to process many of my emotions too much, but this particular week has been burned in my memory for all time. The special guest was a ventriloquist with giant, fuzzy red hair that would make Reba McIntire’s hair from the 80’s look tame. This woman’s hair terrified me, and if it weren’t for the dummy she controlled that absolutely fascinated me (I really just wanted to know what the trick was), I probably would have asked not to go back the next day.

But, each day I went back. I made crafts in a small, stone room that was too cold considering it was summer. I sang crazy songs with hand motions and bizarre words. I shouted with kids of all ages about loving Jesus. I played the only song I knew on an old piano – Chopsticks. And, if I avoided looking at the crazy haired ventriloquist during the big large group sessions I was fine. Every day, the ventriloquist would put her ‘assistant’ aside and give us the Jesus speech. I didn’t listen to a word she said. I just wanted her to bring that wooden guy with the funny mouth back. I just knew I’d figure out how she did it.

During the final day of the camp, we finished our crafts and sang our last songs in the small chapel. There was a girl that I had met early in the week that had become my little buddy, and we clapped and danced and sang every word to all the songs. Then, she came out again. It was speech time, and I started to turn my face away when I saw her bring the dummy out! Finally, I’d find her secret to making that doll talk. But, to my surprise, when the dummy began to talk, I listened. He talked about giving my heart to Jesus and living a life that said I loved Him. Well, that made sense to me! I was singing all week about that, making crafts and hearing Bible lessons that said He loved me, so why wouldn’t I tell Him I loved Him back?

When the talk was over, this completely non-real creature did a traditional alter call. Now, I know what you’re thinking. And yes, I did.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth to come up to the front of the chapel and ask Jesus to come into my heart and live with me forever, I stood up. After days of this frightening woman begging all the kids to say a prayer of salvation, I finally heard the message. My little friend tugged at my shirt and gave me a strange look, shook her head and begged me not to leave her. But without any reservation, without any regret, I made my way down the carpeted pew and to the aisle. In my heart and in my head, it was the easiest and most basic decision of my life. No one would stop me from doing something that made absolute sense, and no one would keep me from acting on my conviction. It was a joyful, trusting and honest choice, and from how vivid my memories are of that day, I know it was a true and real moment. I only looked back once at my friend, hoping she would come with, but when she shook her head no again, I went on, skipping down the aisle.

While not many people brag about ‘getting saved by a dummy’, I love that it took something that spoke to me and interested me to get through to me. It shows me that when God speaks to us, He clearly knows us and will use whatever means necessary to get through to us. As a small child, my barriers weren’t that high. Psychotic fire hair was apparently my toughest one, and all it took was a clever creation to break my wall. But as an adult, the barriers I have are much more intense, much more difficult to see past and push through. The realities of a fallen world cripple the innocence of our youth, and soon it takes much more than a funny wooden doll to get the smile back. Broken people with no hope can tear us apart with their words. Disregard for where we come from or where we’ve been can dig deeper holes of insecurity and self-doubt. Poor planning or lack of judgment can leave even the best intentions in a heap of failure. But, if we look at Colossians, all we have to do is walk in the same way in which we found our faith.

For me, that means not letting someone tell me no. If I want to do something and I know it’s what God has asked of me, no one will keep me from doing it. If a broken person tries to break my spirit with a harsh tongue, I remember the basics of choosing to follow Jesus because He always has and always will love me. If the world pushes against me with disregard and carelessness, I cling to the joy of knowing that since that summer of 1988 I decided to serve a God much bigger than anyone or anything on the planet He created. I don’t think there’s a quick fix to get back to the days when my worst problem was a lady in need of a hair stylist, but reminding myself of that moment that I decided I would skip down the aisles of a chapel and tell Jesus I loved Him is a pretty big help.