Humbled (part 2)

My second most recent humbling experience took place at church. At our church, parents of children birth through 5^th grade must check their children in at one of the new computerized kiosks located in the children’s wing. Parents give the volunteer the name of their family and child, and the volunteer locates their names on the computer screen and prints computerized name tags with bar codes. Only the parent with the matching bar code may pick their child up after Bible class.

Since this is a fairly new system, only the two children’s ministers have been trained to use it. Their efforts to elicit volunteers to man these kiosks have been unsuccessful so my daughter, who is the technology minister, volunteered to help out. Computers are her business. She is a fast learner and simply walked up, asked if she could help, and in minutes took over the booth. After her first Sunday to help out, she told me about it. I asked if she thought it was something I could do, and she eagerly replied, “Sure, it’s easy. I can show you how real fast.”

“It’s easy.” That simple sentence should have been my first clue that I was in big trouble. The next Sunday, I marched up to the kiosk, ready for my on-the-job training. As the children’s minister saw me coming, her face broke out in a huge grin. She backed away from the kiosk she was working, grabbed her keys, thanked me for coming and over her shoulder said, “It’s easy. Just follow the yellow brick road. That’s really all you need to know. Follow the yellow brick road.”

What does she mean by that? As the line to my kiosk began to stack with one frazzled parent after another, each holding the hand of a restless child, I’m staring at my computer screen with color coded buttons that I am supposed to touch in a certain order to indicate the age and class of each child. My daughter leans over and says, “When in doubt, push the yellow button.” Fairly certain that I might be able to execute this registration I look up at the first parent.

I smile a little uncertainly. “Good morning. Name please?” “Schneider.” “Could you spell that please?” “S-c-h-n” “That’s all I need. I’ve found you. Who are you checking in today?” I navigate through each of the steps to check their child in, stopping my daughter at the next kiosk each time I hit the wrong button so she can get me back on track. As she stops checking in her family to correct my errors, I look sheepishly at her family and mine. “I’m sorry for the delay. This is my first time.”

After checking in a few families and needing my daughter’s help on each one, I decided to start off on the right foot with those in my line. “Good morning. This is my first time. Please bear with me.” Then the next parent steps up. “Good morning. I’m new and kind of slow. I’ll be just a moment.” “Good morning. How are you today? I’m new at this.”

As the morning progressed, this greeting became my mantra. After one agonizing, slow, fumbling check-in after another, I looked up to find that my line was empty. All the children were checked in. I made it.

I still say that on-the-job training is not my favorite, especially with an audience of restless children and frazzled parents, but every once in a while, a little dose of humility is probably a good thing.

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand,

that he may lift you up in due time."

I Peter 5:6