When I took the Teenage Girls to Europe

I graduated in 3 ½ years from college, well, actually 4 ½ because I took off a year and went to Israel to work with Sherut La’am, a service organization after my sophomore year.  I graduated in January and got a job the following September at the age of 22  teaching French to 9^th graders. I saw a brochure about taking a group to Europe for 6 weeks so I went for it. My superintendent called me in; NOT the principal—the superintendent! He said, “Cheryl I think you’re a little young and inexperienced for this.” What’s wrong with this next sentence. “Dr. Smith I really respect you but I’m going to do what I want to. I’m going to take a group to Europe.”

               CHUTZPA!  I ended up with a group of six young ladies who were all fifteen years old. They were to spend four weeks studying French in St. Malo and the rest of the time touring France, Switzerland and Italy.  Five of the girls could pay their way, but one could not.  Arla was what we used to call, ‘fast’. She smoked, used fake ID’s and wore way too much black smudgy make up on her eyes. To further complicate matters Arla’s mother had married a man only 7 years older than Arla. Arla was derided and I was ridiculed in the teachers’ lounge.

 “Why would you even THINK of taking Arla! She’s no good. She’s going to amount to nothing! She’s a waste of time and money.” But I saw something in Arla. I saw something worth saving. The parents gave her permission to go, paid a little   money and I set to raising  the rest. I put on a school-wide dance where all the money went to her ticket. We had a car wash and popcorn sales. We got it! We got all the money so Arla could go.

               I was determined to be absolutely responsible and show Dr. Smith that I could  do a fine job. I wanted to bring home 6 healthy, intact, enriched young ladies. My first concern was not to lose any girls. None of these girls had traveled. What a goofy thing I did. I had them all wear yellow dresses so they would  stick out in the airport. They received major eye-rolls from all the sophisticated travelers from all over the US when we joined the other students-- all dressed in jeans of course.

               We got to our destination and it seemed that I was the only chaperone  taking my job seriously. No girl got out of my sight! I was a mother hen, an eagle eye, an elephant mom. Now, I was 22 years old.  The other chaperones were older, some much older. The average was about 45 which I thought was ANCIENT. Those chaperones were there for a GOOD TIME!  They  let their kids go wild! They had huge groups---some 30 students in a group (very lucrative because for every student over 20 they received money)---while I had only six girls.

               I am a kid-magnet. One by one the neglected teens from the free-at-last-forties chaperones found their way to my room. My room was PACKED! I had girls sleeping everywhere. Some wanted to smoke which was totally forbidden in their dorm so I said, “You’ll get in trouble in there. If you’re going to smoke, smoke in my room.” One by one I heard the stories of their lives. Molly’s father was a dentist. She had a dental problem and her dad had given her a douche bag to hook up to the door and run water and antibiotics into her mouth!  Madeline was from a very wealthy family. She said, “My parents sent me here just to get away from them. They dump me somewhere each summer.”

               The organization had made all the arrangements for our activities. One activity that horrified me was to be a visit to the Moulin Rouge where the girls were to see a show and each get a half  bottle of champagne. I told the leaders that I felt it was totally inappropriate and that in the US these girls weren’t old enough to drink. My concern was ignored…like an annoying gnat; we went.

               We arrived at the Moulin rouge and sat down. The sets were amazing. There was a huge water tanks with large fish..maybe porpoises that rose out from the stage floor It was grand. The girls were given their champagne. My eagle eyes were in every direction. The other students from the east and west coasts seemed to be seasoned drinkers. My girls from Indiana were naive.  The women who were dancing all had things in common. They were exactly the same height, their wigs which varied with every number were the same color. They were all topless. TOPLESS. Even their breasts were the same size and shape.  I was aghast. It was worst than I thought. I had no idea that the women were going to be topless! Oh! The stories these girls were going to take home....along with their full-color programs!  We left the Moulin Rouge very late and walked toward the subway. Oh no!  Two of my girls (not Arla) were totally drunk! They were stumbling and could barely walk.  The others seemed to be able to  hold their liquor but not mine. They were sick as dogs. And on top of that they were punished by the organization. Tell me this is fair: because they got drunk they were told they weren’t allowed to go on a side trip to Italy! I argued with the leaders. They were inebriated because they were innocent! They were naive. The rest of the students had  tossed down their champagne with gusto and no symptoms of drunkenness!  Oh! This was ridiculous! I think I managed to talk them into letting my girls go on the tour.

               After the tour to the Italian Alps we went on to the study leg of the journey: St. Malo where we stayed in a monastery. Did you know that in monasteries the pillows are attached to the beds?  The bathtubs were immense. I could easily float in one.  The only thing I remember about the meals in the monastery-converted-to-dorms were café au lait in huge mugs in the mornings, and endless meals of mussels which had tiny little bitty spiders in the shells with the fleshy, squishy mussel.

               I made a couple of young women close to my age among the chaperones.  One is even a friend of mine on FB to this day! She is an amazing artist and I have a piece of her work on my wall that she gave us when we got married. She and I were given the opportunity to study along with the kids but oh PULEEEEZ. We were in France! So while our studets were working away, we would wander around the stone paths, sit down, have delicious, strong coffee and pastries.  We found an amazing creperie! Tiny little place with every possible crepe.

 One evening the artist and I decided to hitchhike into town. A man picked us up and asked, “Would you two like to go to a bar?”  We were all for it and he took us to a bar. We sat down and after while I noticed something very strange. Men were kissing men, and women were kissing women and they were touching each other intimately and…..where was that guy who brought us? NO WHERE to be found. He dumped us at a gay bar!  We must have looked a little bewildered because someone else asked us if we needed a ride somewhere and they took us back to the dorm.

                              My girls all got back in one piece. All names have been changed except for Dr. A.K. Smith, Superintendent of Michigan City Area School.  Oh! Arla! After Arla returned from Europe suddenly  all the teachers wanted to be her best friend. She went on to college and got a double masters’ degree: French and international business.

Things that go Clop in the NIght

While ministering in Scotland we would stay in bed and breakfasts we passed. There was one we loved that was owned by Davy and Ella who breed Clydesdales. It was delightful seeing Star, the colt, every day. The little guy was kept by himself because the females were all foaling and Mr. Frisky would have driven them nuts.

Davy and Ella owned several Border Collies, and one of the jobs of their son was to comb them. He took mounds of hair off each dog and placed it next to him so that each mound seemed bigger than the dog itself. We had such a lovely time. Relaxing and gorgeous. Scotland!

One evening after dark my friend and I decided to take a walk.  We went out the door and walked through the country lanes.   Since it was so late we decided not to go back the way we came, but rather to pass through the fields to return to the house. We were walking, comfortable in the silence between us when suddenly I heard a sound. Clop. Clop. Clop. Then clopclopclopclopclopclop. The clops multiplied in number.

We were being followed…by a herd of Clydesdales!  Now—I like horses when they are on one side of the fence and I’m on the other.  But—it’s night! There are no streetlamps in rural Scotland…and we can see nothing. We can only hear the louder and louder and faster and faster clopclopclopclops behind us.  Have you SEEN the size of Clydesdale’s hooves?

“Just keep walking but don’t run. Just go. GO!”

Somehow I got out of the enclosure and into the yard of the house. How in the world we got in the horse yard, I don’t know. Why weren’t they sleeping in their stable?

Fortunately for every one of my crazy stories I have a witness! This one is my traveling companion and driver, Ms. Dorothe Kauffmann, of Edinburgh.

Does the Heart Draw Whom It Loves?

I don’t know which came first: my love of people of color or the awareness of how much they were despised by some. It was in the 1950s. My family was visiting in Louisiana and another young girl and I were taking the bus back toward her house. We got on the bus, me first, and I went running  down the aisle. “Let’s sit in back!” I yelled over my shoulder.

“No! That’s where the niggers sit.” I stopped, shocked, horrified.

“What! How can you say that word! They are just as good as we are.”

“They may be as good as you, but they’re not as good as me.” And my friend took a seat.

 I don’t remember the ride back.  All I know is that a pain in my heart that traveled to my gut was making me sick. I ran off the bus when we got to her house, ran inside where my mother was waiting, flung myself into the bathroom, leaned against the toilet and retched.

I don’t remember whether my mother spoke to me about it, whether the girl said anything. I remember nothing but horror that people, PEOPLE were treated in such  a way, disrespected, despised, ignored.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to become a FLAG WAVER (an indictment against me that brought the  teaching agency from Indiana's capital  to confront me years later when I was accused of caring too much about the black students).

I just developed such a love in my heart for people who are black. I don’t know why. I love them.

Incidentally, we started our Forty Days of the Word as a small group in our mega-church this past Wednesday evening. The church members were handed a list of 100 names of people hosting meetings. No one who signed up to be in our group knew us.  But at 7:00 the people who had chosen to join our small group walked in the door. They were all black. Did my heart draw them? 

The Redemptive Cleansing of Repentance

The Redemptive Cleansing of Repentance

A Psalm 51 Bible Study

Written by Cheryl Samelson Skid

Psalm 51:3-5

3 For I acknowledge my transgression and my sin is ever before me.

4 Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speaketh and be clear when thou judgest.

5 Behold I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me.

Opening our Hearts to Each Other and to God

1.               Can you remember the first time you were aware that you had done something wrong? What were the circumstances? What did you think? How was it resolved?

2.               Can you remember the first time you thought about God and how He related to you? Tell about that.

3.               Do you know anything about the circumstances of your conception, birth, and how your parents related to you? 

Original Language

Shapen  חול   (khool)  to twist, whirl, dance, writhe, fear, tremble, travail, be in anguish, be pained

            Conceive יָחַם  (yacham) to become hot and mate

 Let’s look at those words a little more closely and relate it to nature around us. I was watching a nature program seeing the  rarely viewed mating dance of the bird of paradise in Papua   New Guinea. The male would call to a female and then prance, twirl, twist, flutter, and cause an amazing display of feathers as he pranced, producing interesting sounds of quills clicking together! The female was passively there.  The male, all the while cavorting in a mating dance,  could tell by looking at the female when she was ready to receive him.

But God! No matter how ready your mother was to receive the seed that formed you, God wanted you. He planned for your birth and welcomed you in the world. Sometimes we feel unwanted by parents.  Perhaps you were the product of a one night stand, a drunken party, or a violent rape. None of that changes the fact that you were wanted and desired by God.  Know this: your life was planned by God. You have inherent value because He, the God of heaven and earth, WANTED YOU ON THIS EARTH AT THIS TIME.

Cross Examination

Let’s look at the circumstances surrounding the writing of Psalm 51

For this lesson we must read two chapters of the Bible. 2 Samuel 11 and 12.

2 Samuel 11:1  David sent the men to war but where was he? ____________________

11:2 Where was David and what was he doing? _________________________________

11:3 How do we know that David was very much aware of the woman’s identity and that of her husband? __________________________________________________________________

11: 4-6  Bathsheba and David have intercourse, and she tells David the news.   Why do you think David sent for her husband from the front lines of the war? ____________________________________________________________________

11:7, 8 David acts really friendly to Uriah, says (in essence) go home and sleep with your wife; after all, you deserve it. For what reason is he being so magnanimous? _______________________________________________________________________

11:9 Uriah surely is a mighty man. He refuses to sleep with his wife, and instead does what? ____________________________________________________________________________

11:11 What reason did Uriah give for not sleeping with his wife?____________________________

11:13 David’s plot did not work. Uriah didn’t sleep with his wife. He was too noble. He put loyalty to David and his fellow soldiers above his own desires. So David goes to his next plan.

Which is?__________________________________________________________________

11:14-17 How did David finally get what he wanted? _________________________________

David apparently had no twinge of conscience on his own. Instead God sent a prophet to David to show him the heinousness of his actions.

2 Samuel 12:1-13 How did the prophet Nathan get David to see the reality of his own sin? __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We come to the place where Psalm 51 begins.

Discussion

1.     Instead of allowing David to sin, hurt Bathsheba, and kill a man, couldn’t God have just stopped David before he even started this cycle of destruction? _____________  Why do you think God allow David to act is such a way with such painful repercussions? ___________________________________________________________________

2.     Has there been a Nathan in your life? ___________________________

3.     Have you been a Nathan to another? ____________________________

4.     Are you holding onto anguish or pain of an unconfessed sin? _________________________________________________________________

5.     Did God forgive David? _________________________________________________

6.     Can He forgive you? ___________________________________________________

Do Work

If you are struggling with an unconfessed sin, or if you can’t forgive yourself find a Nathan to walk you through forgiveness. He whom the Son sets free is free indeed!

I’d love to hear from you! Cheryl Skid cherylskid@gmail.com  (314) 603-5687

Contributions may be sent to Women with a Vision P.O. Box 693 Florissant MO 63032 USA to help ministries around the world.

The Power of Music

Curious, how children coming from the same womb and raised in the same home can be so different. Mine each walked and talked at different ages.  They each had a favorite thing to carry, favorite book favorite past time.. One thing, however, was the same with all my children. I seemed to lost my authority and influence over them once they got their own 'boom boxes' Now it is i-pod; then it was the boom-box, a great big ungainly black machine that plugged into the wall and  out of which came the offerings or lures of various radio stations.

I had been careful with what my children ate (no sugary cereals, plenty of fruit, no soda with meals). I chose their friends by befriending their parents. TV was carefully screened. I was a stay-at- home mom so I had control over what they ate, saw, read.

However, each of them at one time or other requested and received a boom box. That meant that in their rooms they could turn on whatever stations they wanted.

And what they wanted was unacceptable to me. But I had lost them. Nothing was the same after each one got his or her own music. It was as if SUDDENLY their brains were reprogrammed. Their countenances changed as did their vocabulary and posture.

I just started reading a book called Why I Left the Contemporary Christian Music Movement by Dan Lucarini. At first I thought, "Oh come on. Everything was contemporary once. Even who we now call classical composers often scandalized their first audiences with their creations to the point that some walked out in mass.

But then I started to feel Dan's heart. And I started to remember the boom box and the effect it had on each of my children. As I am typing this I'm listening to Hillsong. It's contemporary. But as I am listening to it, I am worshipful on the inside.

However what my children heard did not make them worshipful on the inside. It turned them ito creatures I didn't recognize.

 I had worship music in the house, plenty of it and played it in the car so often they memorized the words to entire tapes! Is the answer to keep children from access to a free choice of music?   I do know this: music is mysterious in its lure, its ability to transcend and transform. It invades hearts and moves feelings.

A click on PLAY and a room changes from a cave of loneliness  to an oasis of peace; it changes from NOW  to memories of being with my father as he held me as a child; it changes from light to dark, from dark to light, from complacency to determination, from smugness to remorse. 

When my son was an older teen and was listening to 'his' music in his car I made a decision to listen to it. What I found out was that there was a message in it, and it was thought-provoking. I decided I liked his music. My liking his music opened his heart toward me. My older daughter has become a huge fan of country music.  My younger daughter loves The Grateful Dead. I had to smile when I saw her sticking her prayer request into the wailing wall in Jerusalem. I could just see the back of her t-shirt which read "Ask Someone Who Cares".

So does music change us? or do we choose music that reflects our present feelings? It was a question asked by a literature professor at Indiana University: does literature influence our opinions or do we write literature to reflect what society feels?

Music. Is there anything else with such a strong influence?

Passing the Test

I am passing the test. As I started this Facebook Fast I was GRIPPED that I need to eliminate from my heart, personality, character, words, countenance, body posture three things: Complaining, Correcting , and Criticizing. As I started the fast and began eliminating the three C's I realized how much time, energy, stress they cost me.  Since I am pruning them I am experiencing  less anxiety and more peace. It's amazing how exhausting it is to try to rule the world!

Last night was a mid-term exam! Oh it hurt! Anguish. On second thought I think it was a pop quiz, not a mid-term because I am only on day (am I counting?) 9 of a 31 day fast. Here is what happened. As I mentioned yesterday Neil said Florida was out---not enough money and not enough reason to go..useless, fruitless, nope!

I did none of the three C's! I held my peace. Huge victory.

 After all, God doesn't need programs and conferences to equip His people. I have victory in choosing the best thing: unity with my husband. I think that is MUCH more important than attending any conference.

As I sit before the Lord daily, function within my local church, stay in right fellowship with other believers, I have to trust that God will withhold nothing I need to increase in the abilities, skills, and giftings that are important to Him.

After all Joseph didn't attend a conference. He was thrown in jail. Daniel didn't attend a conference. He was tossed into a lion's den. Esther didn't attend a conference. She was you might say 'trafficked'. Ezekiel didn't attend a conference. He was exiled.

Whose bright idea was the 'CONFERENCE'?
Thanks for listening!

Dealing with Disappointment

Well, here is the story. I have enough teaching money so that Neil and I could have a room in Florida and pay for plane tickets, but Neil said it is way too much money and I agree. I have done LOTS of traveling all over the world that has been very expensive, but the difference is that when I went to those places I was going to bless the nations, speak to the people, and leave a sweet fragrance of the Lord because I was giving out the Word.

This trip to Florida would be just to attend a conference by the organization that licensed us in ministry. That would basically  be $1000 to be pumped up.

If  I truly felt STRONGLY about the need to go I would take a  stand and say, "I'm going." But it's not worth it. Not for strife or pulling away from my husband.

You see, I'm supposed to go to Guatemala this summer and minister to very poor women who live in the jungle. Now THAT is my idea of $$ well spent. Then in the fall I WANT to go to India to Garden of Life orphanage to bring a word of encouragement to the widows and to bring some cheer to the orphans.


II'm a woman's minister.  That's $1000 I'd rather spend it on an INVESTMENT in lives than in a  'feel-good' conference that would only benefit me.

Now--on the flip side of that I can say this: if it benefits me it benefits others because what is poured into me pours out into others. If I am dry as a bone I can give out nothing. But I'm not dry. I'm a well-watered garden because I am in the Word every day. There are plenty of events close by that can serve to refresh me so that I can be ready for what comes.

I'm hosting a woman from Africa for two weeks. She and her husband have an orphanage in Kenya and oversee several churches there.  It will be an honor and blessing to host her in my home. I was so delighted to go to Kenya and minister to women who had walked for hours...or even days to come..with their babies and bedrolls on their backs, then slept on the FLOOR!  Talk about pressure! When you know that ladies have walked for days and slept on the floor to hear you, you really know you have to step up to the plate.

. Therefore $1000 to go to Florida for just a time of refreshing and iron sharpens iron and being equipped for the next season....

I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I trust God that whatever I was going to get in Florida He can give me another way. "No good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly."