Milo & Zeke: Something Out of Nothing

As of this September, I’m serving as one of the T&T leaders in my church’s Awana club, and we take turns leading group time. When my first turn came up, I gave the lesson my own spin … by introducing our clubbers to Milo and Zeke.

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Section 1.1 – God is Creator

Something Out of Nothing

During Sunday school, Milo said something that made Zeke Pomeroy think.

“Can people make something out of nothing?”

Zeke, who was not a sit-still kind of boy, learned best by doing. And Zeke liked the idea of making something out of nothing. Dreaming stuff up and making it happen was fun! There were so many ideas bouncing around inside his head, he mostly missed the rest of the lesson. But by the end, Zeke had made up his mind.

Milo wrapped up their class by repeating their memory verse, which was found in Revelation 4:11: You are worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created.

After class, Zeke hurried over to his teacher and announced, “I wanna try!”

“Try what, Zeke?”

“I wanna try making something out of nothing.”

Milo’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say no. “Do you have a plan?”

Zeke shook his head but confidently said, “I’ll figure it out.”

“Give it a try, and let me know how it goes.” Milo lifted a finger. “Better yet, I’ll give you six days, just like God had. On Saturday, I’ll drop by after work and see how it’s coming.”

It was the perfect plan. You see, Milo wasn’t just Zeke’s Sunday school teacher. He was a friend of the whole Pomeroy family. And their mailman.

Zeke said, “I’ll meet you by the mailbox!”


During the next week, Zeke tried a bunch of ways to make something out of nothing.

On Monday, he painted a picture, which his mother was happy to display on the refrigerator. But even though Zeke figured it was a good job, he didn’t start with nothing. He’d needed paper, brushes, and paints.

On Tuesday, he wrote a letter to his Grammie Esme, which was closer to starting with nothing … because he never knew what to say. But he wrote a whole page about the time he rode one of their pigs. It was the quickest way to get from one end of their orchard to the other, so long as you were good at ducking under branches.

The story was his, and the words were his, but Zeke wasn’t sure his letter counted either. He’d needed paper, pencil, an eraser, and a couple pieces of tape. And that wasn’t something-from-nothing, either.

On Wednesday it rained, so Zeke and his little brother Jude spent most of the day inventing a cider press for squashing the juice out of apples. That was mostly fun, but messy. Zeke’s big-big-big brother Tad made them stop since you couldn’t drink juice off the floor. Which was a good point.

Inventing something had been a good plan, but Zeke was beginning to see what Milo had meant about God being the only one who could make something from nothing. Because the tools and boards were Grandpa’s, and the heavy rocks and apples were mostly from God.

On Thursday, Zeke got Grandma Nell to teach him knitting. But she laughed when he explained why he wanted to make Milo a hat. Not in a mean way. Grandma Nell was too nice for that. But she was also really smart.

“What are we making his hat out of?” she asked.

“Blue yarn, on account of blue being Milo’s favorite.”

“And what is this yarn made of?”

“Wool.”

“And where does wool come from?”

Zeke made a face because he knew where this was headed. “Sheep.”

“And Who made sheep?” asked his grandmother.

Funny how everything always ended right back at God.

On Friday, Zeke helped his dad batch cookies. Now, Mr. Pomeroy owned Loafing Around, the bakery on Main Street, and he could make up his own recipes. Their Triple Chocolate Macadamia Doozys were crazy good. But flour came from wheat came from God. And eggs came from chickens came from God. And nuts came from trees came from God.

You get the idea.

So Zeke gave up.

On Saturday afternoon, Zeke hung upside down by his knees from the plank fence behind the mailboxes at the end of his driveway. Milo was right on time, and Zeke invited him for milk and cookies.

As they walked up the driveway together, Milo asked, “How’d you do?”

Zeke told him the whole long story. It took them all the way into the kitchen.

Biting into a Triple Chocolate Macadamia Doozy, Milo listened carefully to the things Zeke had tried.

“Guess I messed up,” sighed Zeke. “It was a waste to even try.”

Milo smiled. “You couldn’t make something out of nothing, but I don’t think it was a waste. In fact, you remind me of Someone.”

Zeke didn’t get it. So he said, “I don’t get it.”

“On Monday, you were creative.” Milo pointed to the painting still hanging on the refrigerator. “This world is beautiful because of God’s artistry. And on Tuesday, you wrote a letter to your grandmother. God also uses words to connect with the people loves.”

“Guess so,” said Zeke. Was Milo really comparing him to God?

“On Wednesday, you shared what you learned about God in class with someone else.

Zeke didn’t see the big deal in that. “I had to explain, so Jude would know what we were doing.”

“Because of you, Jude also knows that God is powerful and creative.” Milo reached for a second cookie. “If we don’t tell people, how will they know?”

“I guess.”

“So … do I get to see the hat you made?”

Zeke slipped from his chair and ran to get it.

Milo looked it over with a growing smile. “On Thursday, you made a gift.”

“It’s not a very good one,” Zeke muttered. “And Grandma helped a lot.”

His teacher pulled the hat over his short, blond curls. “God also gives unexpected gifts and encouragement. And sometimes, He wants a little help from us to get them ready.” Choosing a third cookie, Milo held it up. “And on Friday, you made these. Thank you for sharing milk and cookie time with me, Zeke. I appreciate your hospitality.”

Zeke hardly knew what to say. “So the lesson wasn’t about how it’s impossible for me to be like God?”

Milo laughed. “Zeke, were you listening at all in class?”

“Maybe not close enough?”

His teacher shook his head and patiently explained, “It’s true that God is the only one who can create something from nothing. But the second part of our lesson was about how much we’re like Him. He made us in His image.”

“What’s that mean?”

Milo tapped his chest, right over his heart. “We are like our Creator inside. God is love, so we can love. God makes choices, and we make choices. We can talk, think, and feel because God does all those things, too.”

Zeke dunked his cookie in his milk and took a big bite. “Gesh sho,” he mumbled.

“We exist and were created because God wanted company.”

“Was He lonely?”

“He was generous. And His gifts are even better than milk and cookies.” Milo said, “That’s why He’s worthy of glory and honor.”

Zeke recognized the words. “Like in our verse?”

Milo smiled and said, “Like in our verse.”

Revelation 4:11: You are worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created.


This story went over so well with our clubbers, I was invited to share a new installment every week … so expect more Milo & Zeke posts in the near future. For more stories about our favorite mailman and one-boy mischief machine …

8 thoughts on “Milo & Zeke: Something Out of Nothing

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