Donuts and Sundays

I was buying donuts for my class this morning and chatting with the clerk about how much money I’ve spent on donuts.  Her next question sent me down memory lane: “Have you ever made donuts from canned biscuits?”

Have I?!! I haven’t in a very long time, but on occasion I’d make them for my kids.  It is one of my favorite childhood memories–waking up to gospel music and homemade donuts.  I really don’t remember ever buying donuts, but a lot of Sundays we would have fresh hot donuts rolled in powdered sugar or glazed with homemade icing.

I teach 6th graders the Bible on Sundays.  Some might say I “bribe” them, but all it takes is the promise of donuts and these kids are serious about bringing their Bibles to study on Sunday mornings.

Every year when I get a new group of kids, I am surprised at how few of them take ownership of their Bibles.  Some will carry them, but few really know how to use them and understand how important it is.  I start the year off by letting them know that not only do I expect them to bring them, but I reward them the following week if the whole class brings their Bibles.

I don’t just want them to get used to carrying them–I want them to learn to love and discover all that this precious gift has to offer.

I still have my old Bible from the days of growing up and going to Sunday School.


Those years were an important foundation for me, and because of the influence those teachers had on me in my formative years, I have a passion to teach these kids.  I want them to move beyond just knowing the stories of the Bible, to understanding how it all fits together in HIStory… AND what it means for their lives today.  I’ve always been a practical kind of person, and I want to know the “so what?”.

… so what does this say about God?

… so how does this fit in His plan for humanity? … for me?

… so what does it tell me to DO?

… so how will I let this change me?

You get the idea.

My almost 4-year-old grandson is at the age where he is constantly asking questions.  Just the other day we were watching a movie and he started in.  After about 20 questions, he took a breath, leaned back on Nana, and with hands open palms up, said, “I’m sorry, I just ask so many questions because I don’t know the answers to those questions!”  :0)

(Allow me to say here, how incredibly endearing and wonderful I think this little guy is!)


If you’re a parent I know that sometimes you might be tempted to get tired of all the questions, but not this Nana–I said, “Nolan, you don’t have to say you’re sorry–Nana LOVES to answer your questions–that’s how you learn!”

Now I know that a lot of adults have the opinion that they have “grown out of” Sunday School, but I NEVER want to allow that attitude to creep in.  I never want to stop learning and growing.  I love having my questions answered, and the more I learn, it seems the more questions I have.  We will never be able to know/comprehend the vastness of all the Bible is on this side of heaven, but I don’t want to let that thought overwhelm me into thinking that because it’s true, I might as well just not try.

Sunday is still one of my favorite days, and not just because it’s a day of rest.  There is something special about Sundays, and for me it is church and family and focusing on God.

Do you have a favorite Sunday memory?  I’d love to hear it!


6 replies »

  1. I remember my Grandma taking me to church when I visited her as a little girl. As an adult, the thing I loved most was getting to see my church “family.” There was so much love in that church. We have since moved from that city, but that is still one of my fondest memories of church. The love among the people and how we would do anything to help each other really touched my heart and my life.


    • It’s so true! We have served in three churches and each holds a special place in our heart. We truly are a family learning, growing, sharing and experiencing life together. Just wait wait until we get to heaven! “What a day of rejoicing that will be!” ;o)


  2. My first “church” memory is when the minister passed out while preaching and the men carried him out. (No it wasn’t the 7th inning song) I remember my dad being baptized one Sunday night. Oh my so many good, precious memories! The ones that aren’t happy ones even at a young age you can still learn from them. Not many do-nut at church memories so now it’s to the “do-nut store” with the grandkids….Krispy Kreme. Wonderful kick start to memories!!!


  3. Vickie, I never remember Doug or any one of his three brothers asking if he had to go to church. On Sunday morning, it was just a given, no complaining at the Munton house. Sunday morning was usually the only morning I didn’t cook breakfast; we had cereal. Dan, one Sunday morning, saw all the cereal choices on the table, and said, “This must be church day.” He knew! The foundation for this kind of thinking was laid in their mother’s childhood. Sunday was a special day! Your mother-in-law, Zeldean


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