Seeds Planted in Ruts
If you want to skip the poetic-waxing to get to the details about what’s happening in the Atrium this season, scroll down to the section title “In the Atrium.”
I got burned out.
I’m probably the only one surprised by this. I realized it (with help) after I’d been in the midst of it for a couple of months. Over the month of January, I have been exploring how to rest and heal.
Burnout is truly silly if you think about it. I have this image of wheels just spinning and spinning, making ruts rather than progress. Sometimes we even keep our foot on the gas to the point of irreparability. But if we will just stop…!
We were designed (by God, if you believe in that sort of thing) to require rest. In fact, science has shown that we are only able to fully take that mental, emotional, and physical work that we’re so keen on and turn it into growth when we are resting. But we love our labor, don’t we? Rest feels like death to us—but we forget (or choose not to remember) that growth in the natural world requires death (“unless a seed…” John 12:24).
Last year was truly a whirlwind in terms of the Montpelier Atrium: from expedited Level II training to rearranging our entire house to filling all possible hours with building materials to hosting children twice a week in the atrium: most Fridays I was teaching 8 in Level II, and Sunday afternoons, 6 Level I children.
I’ve been really insecure about this work over the past several months, and have spent fruitless time worrying about kids getting bored with the materials. In fact, the opposite happened.
We all kept showing up. Despite the fact that material making had ground to a halt and we were “stuck” “only” with what we managed to make before the holidays—the kids kept coming each week and they kept working. As I fretted in the space, they stayed busy. Only very recently, I finally opened my eyes and saw what was happening: the kids were moving around the atrium like they owned the place. They were no longer visitors flitting on the surface, lingering on the edges, waiting to be shown some new work by me. The atrium finally and fully belonged to them, and they were tunneling deeper and deeper into the material, uncovering new treasures from familiar ground.
As I was gouging earth into ruts trying to get somewhere new (and fast!), the kids were planting seeds in the holes I had made and waiting to see what would grow.
Children are so good at staying in one place. They are experts at “staying.” It doesn’t often look still and disciplined, as our “staying” does, but it’s a dynamic and purposeful lingering nonetheless. Sometimes it’s physical but often it’s mental and spiritual: we could recognize it if we looked for it. We have all seen kids obsessing for months or years over trains, or drawing rainbows and hearts 1 million times without tiring. They ask constantly for the same games (“throw me again!”) and stories. Their “stay-ness” values the place they are.
Thank God that the atrium was made for kids through observation of their work. Atria were designed for them, so when I was showing up each week, I was on their turf, subject to their rules of operation. Even passively, I ended up absorbing their methods until I could finally see things sprouting through the season of hidden-ness (known as “germination” to a plant!).
Those empty spaces from before are filling up now. The kids needed time to plant, water, and watch. Now, as I have rested and am ready, we are all together prepared for a new challenge: making new space for new growth. Ready, now, to be stretched and begin the growing cycle anew.
In the Atrium: Lent & Easter 2024
The liturgical calendar helps us live into the story of Jesus’ physical life on our planet, and right now, the chapter of his life we’re living through is observed by the name Lent. It takes us from his temptation in the desert, through his ministry to the events of Holy Week that lead to Easter.
The works used in the atrium to contemplate Lent and Easter are specifically
The Mystery of Life and Death (grain of wheat)
The Cenacle (the Last Supper)
The City of Jerusalem (topographical map)
The Empty Tomb (the Resurrection)
The liturgy of Light
Apart from the first and last, which do not require many physical items, we have not built these materials for our space yet. In order to provide them for the children, I have calculated needed items and/or amount of donations needed to our Go Fund Me.
In the interest of time and funds, we are focusing our energies over the next month towards finishing the Infancy Dioramas, making the topographical Jerusalem Map, and assembling The Gifts (an extension work of the History of the Kingdom of God). Here, you can see a breakdown of what materials we need either by purchase or donation, with links where possible:
The Infancy Dioramas
spray paint in white, brown, tan, gold
green felt
.5X4” molding
1” brass hinges x 4
unfinished dollhouse furniture (a few tables, benches, bed, chairs)
very small hinged boxes
The topographical Jerusalem Map
.5 to .75” thick plywood (24 x 36)
spackling paste (lots of it!)
wood glue
sand paper
table legs and hardware
acrylic paints
small risen Christ crucifix
The Gifts
blue, tan, yellow and white poster board/large card stock
treasure chest for storage (about this size)
Bible stand
Parousia symbol, $19.95
To be able to complete these works, we calculate needing $350 in donations. If you feel willing and able to contribute to this amount, please give via our Go Fund Me, or contact me for other ways to give. If you have any of these materials to help cut down costs, please contact me at lauraellenfissel@gmail.com (or via phone/text if you have my number!).
Here are links and prices to other Lent/Easter works that we would love to be able to provide for the children:
The Cenacle (The Last Supper):
Diorama with table and figures, $90.80 (with storage drawer, $225.80)
Miniature chalice and paten, $9.95 (can be wooden if found elsewhere)
Miniature candle sticks, $14.95 (can also be wooden; should hold the size of a birthday candle)
The Empty Tomb (The Resurrection):
Diorama and figures, $65
That would be an additional $180-315, not counting painting/furniture for the stations.
All of the time and money given to the Montpelier Atrium is not for profit and returns 100% to the children. It is donated by me, parents and volunteers using the space, and named and nameless others that God is drawing to the work, sometimes across great distances.
In Conclusion…
All of this continues to feel totally wild—hosting the atrium, teaching CGS, asking people for money, building atrium materials. But every step of the way, it’s been surprisingly confirmed as much as I’m able to understand it in this limited frame of mine. I see the results in the kids, and I feel the transformation of the Holy Spirit in my own heart and mind.
Thank you, as always, for continuing to join in this incredible work. The last few months have reminded me that we are invited to participate in God’s work, but it will always continue to happen (and is happening) despite/in spite of us. What a humbling and freeing reality.
Let’s rejoice together, giving thanks for the beautiful, inviting, powerful, hopeful work we are all drawn to as Kingdom-building co-laborers with the Three in One. In accepting God’s invitation to work alongside him, we bring transformation as we ourselves are transformed—what a mysterious, cyclical thing this life is.
“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.” Amen
