I love every day on this island, but a day when I awake to a pristine blue sky without a cloud in sight...that's my favorite. Days like this is what one dreams the Caribbean of being. On days like this, I find myself keeping an eye on the top of Saba's highest point, Mt. Scenery. If the clouds stay away and if we are able to find a couple hours of down time, a hike to the highest point in the Netherlands is a must.
Today I made the trek with the youngest Thomas kid. She had her Saba sidekick, Rashadijn (aka, Shady) along with her. I loved hearing their 7 year old dialogue and seeing their little legs ascend to the top. They tackled all 1064 steps without much complaint at all.
While we hiked with a few of the team members, Nancy Caroline hung out with her friends Natalie and Lauren in Windwardside. Just down by the sea at Torrens Point, Michael and Jackson were experiencing their first dive on Saba.
Two of us on the top, one of us in the middle, and two of us at the base in the waters. The Thomas family had Saba covered it seemed.
Sharing Saba with the three kids is something that I store up in my heart. The memories of hiking with Sadie, the image of the three of them snorkeling side by side, getting to see Jackson become a diver, knowing Nancy Caroline fits in so well here with the kids and loves helping at day camp....things like that make me realize that the island and the three kids are getting along just beautifully.
At day camp today, I spent another day in my old classroom teaching Saban children how to cook. We decided to try a little cultural competition...Saban Pumpkin Fritters vs. Southern Fried Pies. My fellow team member Amie volunteered to lead the children in making the fritters, while I tackled the pies.
We began cooking down the dried fruit and sugaring it up. The markets didn't have peaches or apples, so we used apricots and mangoes. I taught the kids how to take the biscuit dough and roll it out into a good sized little circles. Then it was on to the frying.
This task ended up being pretty tedious, due to the kitchen air conditioner being on the blink. About half way through, the room felt like a sauna. But the children were happy, with or without airco.
The little fella I assigned to help me with the frying is Jamal. He and his brothers and sister are some that have loved Lipscomb from the very beginning pretty much. He has chestnut brown eyes, tanned skin, and his hair is in a single braid down his back. His little bright eyed smile gets me every time.
As we stood and watched as the southern delicacies turned to golden brown, we began to ask each other questions.
I found out he likes to cook at home with his mother. He learned that I sometimes miss being in a classroom cooking with students. He loves soccer. I love American football. We both have an older sister.
I asked him about making Johnny Cakes and fritters. He asked me how much sugar to add to the fried pie filling and where he could find the fruit in the market on the island. He asked why we used a fork to clasp the edges shut.
Then came the question that led to all sorts of stories...
"Mrs. Aletha, where did you learned to make these fried pies?"
Grandmother. I then told Jamal all about my grandmother. I told him how she had coached me for years on frying pies, canning pickles, planting flowers, making biscuits, and living life. I told him all about how she made me laugh and how when I was little I thought she could do no wrong. She has always been kind and has always loved me so well. I told my little friend about how age is now taking it's toll on my sweet grandmother.
Jamal told me he thought she sounded nice and he hoped she felt better soon.
Just as I finished telling him about Grandmother, another boy walked up and asked if he could join us and help fry. "Yes" immediately fell off my lips before I realized the two boys standing on opposite sides of me now had been at odds pretty much the entire day camp. I braced myself for the exchange that was for sure to take place.
Jamal gave Tobias some pointers and the frying commenced. They were friendly and even shared a few laughs. All I could think of was just maybe the stories of my grandmother had softened the attitude of these boys. The smell of the fried pies and the memories on my mind felt like an assurance that her spirit was very much a part of my island because she is a part of me.
Today ended with a traditional "devo in the gazebo". This is one of my favorite times on Saba. It's a period of praise and prayer. It just so happened that tonight we forgot to take our song books. So we broke out in all the children's VBS type songs we could think of. It also just so happened that it was Shady's first devo with us at the gazebo.
I couldn't help but realize how special this ended up being, all of us gathered there in the gazebo singing songs that our special little friend knew almost all by heart. It was like the Lord catered the evening of "just so happeneds" into an evening of "this is how I meant for it to be".
What a day! My feet are tired tonight, my eyes are heavy, my heart is full, and my joy is great.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Sunday, July 10, 2016
An Overdue Update from Saba
This was written last Tuesday. Internet has been a bit of a challenge for those of us staying at the community center. And I haven't wanted to be immersed in the social media world very much during lunches at Child Focus. So I am taking you back in time a bit. More will be posted this coming week I am sure. For now, happy Sunday...
I am about to close my eyes for the day. It is hot in this community center tonight. The wind is light and my skin is sticky. The Saban tree frogs are chirping, ready to sing me to sleep. The laughter and conversation of my fellow female teammates joins in with their lullaby as well.
Yesterday I lead 6 and 7 year olds in a cooking making session at camp. Today I helped lead a group of teens on a scavenger hunt and then on a hike that ended with making smoothies as a cool refreshment. To say the least I have had the best of both worlds...the youngest and the oldest.
I love to see the little flour covered grins of the littles as they try to sneak a bite of the cookie dough. And I love the jovial conversation and ease of the bigs. The children of this island make me love the little things in life that the hustle and bustle of American life seems to loose in all the chaos.
Tonight we gathered in our normal family meeting just outside our community center doors. As that meeting went on, many of us began to realize that we were not alone. Up above us on the roof were a few little fellas, trying to squeeze in a few more moments with "De Lipscomb". As things began to end, a little voice bellowed down a question, letting his presence be for certain...
"Ms. Aletha?"
"Yes, Caleb?"
"Would it be okay if I prayed over you all tonight?"
My heart skipped just a beat before I quickly took him up on his offer. He prayed over our sleep and our safety. He thanked God for us. And he then asked that God bring us back to Saba next year. It was one of the sweetest, sincerest little prayers I have ever heard. A little boy talking his big Daddy about some people he has come to love on a playground and in a school and at a day camp.
After he finished, I couldn't help but to ask if I could return the favor. My words had a hard time finding their way out. I felt like I was fumbling trying to fight back the tears, knowing the Father had once again given me a glimpse of Him. This time through a little fella from a little island in the middle of the sea.
Sometimes as a team leader, I try to find the right things to say at just the right time. I search for the perfect passage for Michael and I to share as we say goodnight to our teams. We spend hours organizing events, writing curriculum, assigning day camp responsibilities, and planning devotionals.
What I am guilty of loosing sight of is this...God orchestrates the most powerful messages at just the right moments to reveal Himself to us. He will use us or whoever He wishes, whether we have exhausted ourselves in preparation or if we have just spent the day playing with friends and going to a day camp.
So today I learned to be thankful for the people that make a difference in my day. The people that show the unexpected love and care at the unexpected moments. Tonight I am thankful for Caleb.
I am about to close my eyes for the day. It is hot in this community center tonight. The wind is light and my skin is sticky. The Saban tree frogs are chirping, ready to sing me to sleep. The laughter and conversation of my fellow female teammates joins in with their lullaby as well.
Yesterday I lead 6 and 7 year olds in a cooking making session at camp. Today I helped lead a group of teens on a scavenger hunt and then on a hike that ended with making smoothies as a cool refreshment. To say the least I have had the best of both worlds...the youngest and the oldest.
I love to see the little flour covered grins of the littles as they try to sneak a bite of the cookie dough. And I love the jovial conversation and ease of the bigs. The children of this island make me love the little things in life that the hustle and bustle of American life seems to loose in all the chaos.
Tonight we gathered in our normal family meeting just outside our community center doors. As that meeting went on, many of us began to realize that we were not alone. Up above us on the roof were a few little fellas, trying to squeeze in a few more moments with "De Lipscomb". As things began to end, a little voice bellowed down a question, letting his presence be for certain...
"Ms. Aletha?"
"Yes, Caleb?"
"Would it be okay if I prayed over you all tonight?"
My heart skipped just a beat before I quickly took him up on his offer. He prayed over our sleep and our safety. He thanked God for us. And he then asked that God bring us back to Saba next year. It was one of the sweetest, sincerest little prayers I have ever heard. A little boy talking his big Daddy about some people he has come to love on a playground and in a school and at a day camp.
After he finished, I couldn't help but to ask if I could return the favor. My words had a hard time finding their way out. I felt like I was fumbling trying to fight back the tears, knowing the Father had once again given me a glimpse of Him. This time through a little fella from a little island in the middle of the sea.
Sometimes as a team leader, I try to find the right things to say at just the right time. I search for the perfect passage for Michael and I to share as we say goodnight to our teams. We spend hours organizing events, writing curriculum, assigning day camp responsibilities, and planning devotionals.
What I am guilty of loosing sight of is this...God orchestrates the most powerful messages at just the right moments to reveal Himself to us. He will use us or whoever He wishes, whether we have exhausted ourselves in preparation or if we have just spent the day playing with friends and going to a day camp.
So today I learned to be thankful for the people that make a difference in my day. The people that show the unexpected love and care at the unexpected moments. Tonight I am thankful for Caleb.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Summer on Saba is Here!
With this post, you are assured that the first of this year's Saba Summer Lipscomb and Friends Mission Team is safely on Saba. It was a long but happy day of travel yesterday that ended with pizza and salad, prayers of thanksgiving, and a make shift bedroom of air mattresses and army cots.
Today has been a day of worship and organization. We are about to meet with Stacey at Child Focus to make sure that day one of Day Camp is ready to roll. Then it will be off to Swingin Doors for steak night!
These were my thoughts as we traveled from Woodbury to Atlanta to St. Martin to Saba. Check back this week for more updates and thoughts...
Today I am writing from 30,000 feet. It's the first of July and for us that means one thing...Saba.
My energy has seemed endless the past couple of days. My dreams have been filled with little white cottages with red roofs atop. My suitcase is packed to the brim with tank tops, t-shirts, and Tevas. My feet are anxiously awaiting the water. My ears can already hear the tree frogs and the sea breezes that whip through the trees in the park. My mouth can't wait for the first bite of a Johnny Cake and the taste of a cold Ting.
My physical body is about to catch up with my heart.
The three kids had no trouble waking at 2:15am this morning. Their excitement never ceases to make my lips curve into a smile. They packed their little bags and have been counting down the hours. At this moment they are eating goldfish, watching in flight movies, and taking in the passing clouds out the windows of the plane.
It's been 104 days since we last saw her, The Unspoiled Queen. For the next 16 days we will walk on her road, play in Her waters, and love on Her people.
Last Spring Break as the team organized for a canvas of the island, Michael and I gave instructions and split the team into groups. Before we split up, I shared a little story with the team. I love a good story.
When Sadie was a baby she despised her car seat. Even the shortest of trips could be miserable. Until we found The Bee Movie. She loved it. We could pop in this movie to the DVD player, and faithfully the screams and tears turned to giggles and applause.
The plot of the movie...Barry the Bee, voiced by Jerry Seinfield, decides that bees are being used by humans for their honey and goes to court to sue humans, eventually winning. In the end he realizes bees need to produce honey to survive and humans and bees need each other. In true Hollywood animation style, lots of antics go on as Barry makes the journey to the courtroom and beyond.
Michael and I had this movie memorized word for word before we actually saw it. We drove many a mile with our baby girl watching intently with the car speakers turned wide open.
There was this one part that always got us...
Barry gets stuck on the windshield of a moving truck. He begins to panic but is consoled by a mosquito, voiced by Chris Rock. The two banter back and forth, and are having a good chat...until the driver of the truck decides he needs to clean the windshield with the wiper blades. Panic insues.
Chris Rock bellows...
"Watch out, triple blade, triple blade! Hold on for your life! These crazy humans always needing to see! Open your eyes, stick your head out the window!"
That last line was the purpose of the story that morning. It's my encouragement to every team member we travel to the island with through out the years. Slow down...take a moment...open your eyes...stick your head out the window. Be present in the moments that God has granted you on this unique five square miles that very few get the chance to experience. What is He teaching you through the creation around you and the people you meet? How are you encountering Him as you walk along the road and pillow your head next to your fellow team members at night? How is He using you? Better yet how is He using others that He has given you the chance to witness?
At the end of that day, a fellow team member, new to the work on Saba, ended our family meeting with his thoughts. His take away from the day...It's not about opening your actual eyes, it's about opening the eyes of your heart.
TRUTH!
So as we begin this two week adventure here, we plan on rolling the windows down...we'll stick our heads out the window...and we will ask that the Father opens the eyes of our hearts on a daily basis.
This just doesn't only apply to a little group of day camp volunteers on a remote Caribbean island. Join us. Whether you're on vacation, putting in a 40 hour work week, or enjoying the summer days at home with your kids...
God's story is being written through all of creation, through the lives we live, and through the relationships we are a part of, near and far. Things are not just by chance...coincidences, I think not.
Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!
Today has been a day of worship and organization. We are about to meet with Stacey at Child Focus to make sure that day one of Day Camp is ready to roll. Then it will be off to Swingin Doors for steak night!
These were my thoughts as we traveled from Woodbury to Atlanta to St. Martin to Saba. Check back this week for more updates and thoughts...
Today I am writing from 30,000 feet. It's the first of July and for us that means one thing...Saba.
My energy has seemed endless the past couple of days. My dreams have been filled with little white cottages with red roofs atop. My suitcase is packed to the brim with tank tops, t-shirts, and Tevas. My feet are anxiously awaiting the water. My ears can already hear the tree frogs and the sea breezes that whip through the trees in the park. My mouth can't wait for the first bite of a Johnny Cake and the taste of a cold Ting.
My physical body is about to catch up with my heart.
The three kids had no trouble waking at 2:15am this morning. Their excitement never ceases to make my lips curve into a smile. They packed their little bags and have been counting down the hours. At this moment they are eating goldfish, watching in flight movies, and taking in the passing clouds out the windows of the plane.
It's been 104 days since we last saw her, The Unspoiled Queen. For the next 16 days we will walk on her road, play in Her waters, and love on Her people.
Last Spring Break as the team organized for a canvas of the island, Michael and I gave instructions and split the team into groups. Before we split up, I shared a little story with the team. I love a good story.
When Sadie was a baby she despised her car seat. Even the shortest of trips could be miserable. Until we found The Bee Movie. She loved it. We could pop in this movie to the DVD player, and faithfully the screams and tears turned to giggles and applause.
The plot of the movie...Barry the Bee, voiced by Jerry Seinfield, decides that bees are being used by humans for their honey and goes to court to sue humans, eventually winning. In the end he realizes bees need to produce honey to survive and humans and bees need each other. In true Hollywood animation style, lots of antics go on as Barry makes the journey to the courtroom and beyond.
Michael and I had this movie memorized word for word before we actually saw it. We drove many a mile with our baby girl watching intently with the car speakers turned wide open.
There was this one part that always got us...
Barry gets stuck on the windshield of a moving truck. He begins to panic but is consoled by a mosquito, voiced by Chris Rock. The two banter back and forth, and are having a good chat...until the driver of the truck decides he needs to clean the windshield with the wiper blades. Panic insues.
Chris Rock bellows...
"Watch out, triple blade, triple blade! Hold on for your life! These crazy humans always needing to see! Open your eyes, stick your head out the window!"
That last line was the purpose of the story that morning. It's my encouragement to every team member we travel to the island with through out the years. Slow down...take a moment...open your eyes...stick your head out the window. Be present in the moments that God has granted you on this unique five square miles that very few get the chance to experience. What is He teaching you through the creation around you and the people you meet? How are you encountering Him as you walk along the road and pillow your head next to your fellow team members at night? How is He using you? Better yet how is He using others that He has given you the chance to witness?
At the end of that day, a fellow team member, new to the work on Saba, ended our family meeting with his thoughts. His take away from the day...It's not about opening your actual eyes, it's about opening the eyes of your heart.
TRUTH!
So as we begin this two week adventure here, we plan on rolling the windows down...we'll stick our heads out the window...and we will ask that the Father opens the eyes of our hearts on a daily basis.
This just doesn't only apply to a little group of day camp volunteers on a remote Caribbean island. Join us. Whether you're on vacation, putting in a 40 hour work week, or enjoying the summer days at home with your kids...
God's story is being written through all of creation, through the lives we live, and through the relationships we are a part of, near and far. Things are not just by chance...coincidences, I think not.
Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Happy Father's Day
As you know each Spring we head to Saba with a group of fun, service filled, intentional, relationship seeking folks. Saba is one of 22 locations Lipscomb descends upon every March. Many people make lots of things happen for these trips to be possible. My sweet friend Erin Gupton has overseen the compiling and publishing of a devotional guide for the past two years. It has been a beautiful addition to Lipscomb's Spring Break Missions. Knowing 22 teams are spread out all over the globe, but are focusing on the same thoughts daily is more than moving. Miles separate us, but we are one.
This past Spring she asked me to contribute to the devo guide. My topic was grace and forgiveness. As you may see on this blog, that topic is a big part of my heart. What I wrote about is very fitting to share today.
Happiest of Father's Day to Edward Anderson...the truest of examples of my Good, Good Father.
I can remember the first time I knew I had actually sinned. It was a lie. At seven years old and in second grade, the greatest fear I had was disappointing my parents. So when I messed up at school, my first inclination was to hide the fact that I had gotten in trouble.
It was easy to hide my mistakes that afternoon for a while. My mother questioned me a bit, and then we went about a normal afternoon at the Anderson house. But then my father came home. My little mind had not a clue my mother was suspicious. She asked me to describe the events of the day to my daddy and he listened carefully.,taking in my deceptive take on it. After I finished, he put me on his knee and asked with kindest voice, "Are you sure that is how it happened?"
I can remember the heaviness in my heart and how the lump in my throat got so big that I couldn't swallow. My earthly father made it so incredibly easy to shed tears and tell him exactly what had happened and that I had lied to cover up what I had done.
For a brief moment I can remember the sting of the fear of punishment. I dreaded what was about to be dealt. But what was said was a bit different than my seven year old self expected.
My dad began to tell me that yes, I had messed up, made a mistake, but that did not make me a bad person. He knew me that I would never be perfect and he was good with that. He forgave me and was proud that I had told him the truth in the end. And I have always remembered the last thing he told me before I hopped off his knee..."I love you. Learn from this mistake."
My earthly father extended the most loving grace to me that afternoon, and many more times in my life since. He forgave without a heavy dose of disappointment and punishment, knowing that the regret that I carried was enough of a load. He taught me to forgive.
What is so amazing though is that this example is but just a glimpse of the grace and forgiveness extended from my Heavenly Father. Once you know His grace, you have to work extremely hard to get loose from it's grip. It forgives easily. It guides lovingly. It completely erases wrongs.
We will still feel the lump in our throat at times. The sting of fear will be present at times. But...
If you are open to His grace, if you strive to embrace and understand His forgiveness, if you accept it, the grace and forgiveness that you then will extend to others comes easily. Realizing that the sins that plague you nailed Christ on the cross, that He felt every burden of our sins with every sting of the whip and pierce of the thorns, that He felt the shame and guilt even though He was completely blameless...and still the Father forgives you fully, completely, freely...that is more than freeing! It allows you to forgive like He has and does. It allows you to show the most amazing mercy. It allows you to love relentlessly. His grace and forgiveness will allow you to forgive the little things and prepare you toll the road to forgiveness when someone you love deeply wrongs you terribly.
So during this time on your given mission, extend grace and forgiveness in the little ways. Practice it. When someone says something the wrong way or in the wrong tone, don't be so easily offended. When someone takes the last two strips of bacon at breakfast, be happy for them. When your teammate leaves a mess and you help clean it up, have a good attitude and a servant heart. If someone wrongs you, keep no record of it. Forgive. Show mercy. Extend grace. Be a glimpse of the forgiveness and grace extended to you every second, every minute, of every day.
By the way, I told my dad that I was telling you this story of my childhood mistake. He had no recollection of it. Our Father's forgiveness...isn't it grand!?
This past Spring she asked me to contribute to the devo guide. My topic was grace and forgiveness. As you may see on this blog, that topic is a big part of my heart. What I wrote about is very fitting to share today.
Happiest of Father's Day to Edward Anderson...the truest of examples of my Good, Good Father.
**********************************************************
It was easy to hide my mistakes that afternoon for a while. My mother questioned me a bit, and then we went about a normal afternoon at the Anderson house. But then my father came home. My little mind had not a clue my mother was suspicious. She asked me to describe the events of the day to my daddy and he listened carefully.,taking in my deceptive take on it. After I finished, he put me on his knee and asked with kindest voice, "Are you sure that is how it happened?"
I can remember the heaviness in my heart and how the lump in my throat got so big that I couldn't swallow. My earthly father made it so incredibly easy to shed tears and tell him exactly what had happened and that I had lied to cover up what I had done.
For a brief moment I can remember the sting of the fear of punishment. I dreaded what was about to be dealt. But what was said was a bit different than my seven year old self expected.
My dad began to tell me that yes, I had messed up, made a mistake, but that did not make me a bad person. He knew me that I would never be perfect and he was good with that. He forgave me and was proud that I had told him the truth in the end. And I have always remembered the last thing he told me before I hopped off his knee..."I love you. Learn from this mistake."
My earthly father extended the most loving grace to me that afternoon, and many more times in my life since. He forgave without a heavy dose of disappointment and punishment, knowing that the regret that I carried was enough of a load. He taught me to forgive.
What is so amazing though is that this example is but just a glimpse of the grace and forgiveness extended from my Heavenly Father. Once you know His grace, you have to work extremely hard to get loose from it's grip. It forgives easily. It guides lovingly. It completely erases wrongs.
We will still feel the lump in our throat at times. The sting of fear will be present at times. But...
If you are open to His grace, if you strive to embrace and understand His forgiveness, if you accept it, the grace and forgiveness that you then will extend to others comes easily. Realizing that the sins that plague you nailed Christ on the cross, that He felt every burden of our sins with every sting of the whip and pierce of the thorns, that He felt the shame and guilt even though He was completely blameless...and still the Father forgives you fully, completely, freely...that is more than freeing! It allows you to forgive like He has and does. It allows you to show the most amazing mercy. It allows you to love relentlessly. His grace and forgiveness will allow you to forgive the little things and prepare you toll the road to forgiveness when someone you love deeply wrongs you terribly.
So during this time on your given mission, extend grace and forgiveness in the little ways. Practice it. When someone says something the wrong way or in the wrong tone, don't be so easily offended. When someone takes the last two strips of bacon at breakfast, be happy for them. When your teammate leaves a mess and you help clean it up, have a good attitude and a servant heart. If someone wrongs you, keep no record of it. Forgive. Show mercy. Extend grace. Be a glimpse of the forgiveness and grace extended to you every second, every minute, of every day.
By the way, I told my dad that I was telling you this story of my childhood mistake. He had no recollection of it. Our Father's forgiveness...isn't it grand!?
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Where Is The Grace?
I pulled up Facebook a few weeks back. Killing some time as I sat alone on a bench waiting for eleven other people to come out of a bathroom at Disney World. Do you know how many bathroom breaks a party of 12 has to take while vacationing at The Happiest Place on Earth?! Some people have the bladder of a flea...but I love them completely, tiny bladder and all. And I digress...
So there I was scrolling down the news feed, and a post caught my eye. A friend was irritated and put out.
We have all been there. Hungry. In a hurry. In need of fast food. And fast is the last thing the food is, not to mention it isn't even what was ordered. And then round two fails at order promptness and correctness.
You huff and puff a bit but you don't yell. You do not throw insults at the cashier. But what do you do when your feathers get ruffled...you take to Facebook and you rant.
Where is the grace?
A few years back when my 12 year old was ten years less, we were visiting friends in Mexico. Jackson was introduced to Jamaica, a kool aid type drink made from the Hibiscus flower. To say he loved it is an understatement.
As we sat with friends at one of our favorite local taco joints, Jackson sipped away on the deep dark red juice. And before we knew it, most of us were suddenly covered and stained from the toddlers drink of choice.
I jumped up, panicking, frustrated, embarrassed.
Where is the patience?
On Wednesday afternoons during the school year, I help out at an after school program with the church family of which I am a part. We snack, we play, we serve, and we learn. Anywhere between 50 to 75 kids are in attendance on a given day.
Most days are good, and the kids are happy. But they are kids. They have arguments, they act out, and they throw slurs.
"That's stupid."
"I am not your friend anymore!"
"You are an idiot!"
Where did they learn this stuff from?
The access to information on this earth now is unprecedented. In order to know something we want to know all we have to do is Google it, get on Facebook, or check the latest tweet. The days of just watching the local news are a thing of the past.
You know what your neighbor is eating for dinner, not to mention the latest social news that everyone is talking about. In a year's span we talk about politics, issues concerning gender, mission work and religion, how others parent, and how we treat animals.
Alot of us become obsessed and lash out at all others that have differing opinions than we do. We are quick to point out how others mess up and how they could do better.
Where is the humility?
You may be wondering where I am going with all this. My heart is heavy. I look at us and the world in which we live and can see that we are screwing a lot of things up. We have opportunities everyday to make the world better. We squander these moments due to short tempers, busy schedules, and the absence of grace.
Instead of seeing the good in people, we size them up and place judgement in their actions, words, and intentions.
We see the mom loose it in the grocery aisle and immediately think she is a horrible mother. The cashier messes up the amount of change he gives us back. We snap at him and are appalled he can't even do simple math. Our kid's teacher forgets to send home the school newsletter. Oh my goodness, we aren't going to know what is for lunch or what is going on this week in class! Can't she get her act together?! A child at church is out of control and has bad manners. This child gets on our nerves. The simple answer in our minds is a good spanking or scolding.
We don't always only have these attitudes toward strangers. It seeps into our homes and our friendships and in the mirror. Dads are hard on sons, wanting them to act like "men" well before the times are passed when they just need to be a little boys. Us wives sit around in our circles and complain about our husbands shortcomings. We beat ourselves up when we forget something, double book our calendars, or can't be like the other lady down the street who "has it all together".
We live in a world filled with judgment, negativity, and assumptions. We are hard on each other. We are hard on ourselves. Harshness is dealt on a daily basis, in reality, for the simplest of mistakes.
I love to read the stories in the Bible and see all the things that our Jesus did. But we can learn a lot from what he didn't do.
In all four gospels, we read of Peter. He makes me smile a lot. He is full of less than holy humanity much of the time, but God turned his imperfections into the most beautiful story.
Probably the most noted story we read of Peter deals with him denying Christ. We have just read of his friendship and love declaration to Jesus at the Last Supper. And then we see him not once, not twice, but three times deny that he even knew his fearless leader and friend. He weeps and then he disappears from scripture for a bit.
In John 21, we see Peter and Jesus reunited. At first Peter can't even tell it's Christ on the shore, but when he does, his reaction is beautiful. Peter is too excited to row the boat to shore. He jumps out of his fishing boat and swims to where Jesus is. Can you imagine his joy? His best friend and Savior is alive! But I also bet he had a bit of fear.
"Is he going to still love me after I disowned him?"
In the true nature of himself, Jesus then serves his friends...he cooks dinner for them. They eat together. Then scripture lets us see a conversation between Jesus and Peter.
"Do you love me?"
Jesus asked Peter that question not once, not twice, but three times.
It is my belief that there are no such things as coincidences.
After Peter affirms his love and devotion to Christ, Jesus tells him to feed and care for His sheep. And he assures him that he will be guided and cared for as he guides and cares for God's people. Jesus let's Peter know he is loved as well, even after a pretty major mistake.
We don't see Jesus lash out and harshly condemn Peter. He isn't frustrated, offended, or filled with too hot of a temper. We do not see Christ filled with pride and disgust. He doesn't throw a slur or lash out with his opinion of Peter's behavior. He doesn't log onto the hottest of social media sites and rant about how stupid and wrong Peter was.
Jesus cooks him dinner and has a loving conversation, restoring the relationship without questioning motive, intent, or the reason for a mistake.
We need to realize others around us have bad days. People in our lives will mess up in small ways, and they will make the biggest of mistakes. Cashiers will give back incorrect change. Fast food orders will be wrong. Kids will spill drinks and act like kids. We will see people loose their cool and say the wrong things. People we love will cheat and lie. Folks we know will make mistakes. We will make mistakes.
Another's shortcomings do not give us permission to condemn them or excuse our own bad behavior.
So I am challenging myself and all of you. Let's speak only kind words when we run across the simple everyday mistakes. Post and tweet only the optimistic. Like the good statuses, pray for the not so good. Don't be so easily offended. Let's keep our opinions to ourselves if they can't be delivered with love. And be respectful of others' opinions. Be patient with the people who need it the most. Don't give up on the people you love when they mess up. Love on them a little harder. Find the good God intends us to find in the most difficult of situations.
We are all human and we are in need of grace. The kind of grace Jesus showed Peter. The kind of grace Jesus extends to each of us, day in and day out. And humanity is the only chance we have at seeing that grace in action each and every day.
So there I was scrolling down the news feed, and a post caught my eye. A friend was irritated and put out.
We have all been there. Hungry. In a hurry. In need of fast food. And fast is the last thing the food is, not to mention it isn't even what was ordered. And then round two fails at order promptness and correctness.
You huff and puff a bit but you don't yell. You do not throw insults at the cashier. But what do you do when your feathers get ruffled...you take to Facebook and you rant.
Where is the grace?
A few years back when my 12 year old was ten years less, we were visiting friends in Mexico. Jackson was introduced to Jamaica, a kool aid type drink made from the Hibiscus flower. To say he loved it is an understatement.
As we sat with friends at one of our favorite local taco joints, Jackson sipped away on the deep dark red juice. And before we knew it, most of us were suddenly covered and stained from the toddlers drink of choice.
I jumped up, panicking, frustrated, embarrassed.
Where is the patience?
On Wednesday afternoons during the school year, I help out at an after school program with the church family of which I am a part. We snack, we play, we serve, and we learn. Anywhere between 50 to 75 kids are in attendance on a given day.
Most days are good, and the kids are happy. But they are kids. They have arguments, they act out, and they throw slurs.
"That's stupid."
"I am not your friend anymore!"
"You are an idiot!"
Where did they learn this stuff from?
The access to information on this earth now is unprecedented. In order to know something we want to know all we have to do is Google it, get on Facebook, or check the latest tweet. The days of just watching the local news are a thing of the past.
You know what your neighbor is eating for dinner, not to mention the latest social news that everyone is talking about. In a year's span we talk about politics, issues concerning gender, mission work and religion, how others parent, and how we treat animals.
Alot of us become obsessed and lash out at all others that have differing opinions than we do. We are quick to point out how others mess up and how they could do better.
Where is the humility?
You may be wondering where I am going with all this. My heart is heavy. I look at us and the world in which we live and can see that we are screwing a lot of things up. We have opportunities everyday to make the world better. We squander these moments due to short tempers, busy schedules, and the absence of grace.
Instead of seeing the good in people, we size them up and place judgement in their actions, words, and intentions.
We see the mom loose it in the grocery aisle and immediately think she is a horrible mother. The cashier messes up the amount of change he gives us back. We snap at him and are appalled he can't even do simple math. Our kid's teacher forgets to send home the school newsletter. Oh my goodness, we aren't going to know what is for lunch or what is going on this week in class! Can't she get her act together?! A child at church is out of control and has bad manners. This child gets on our nerves. The simple answer in our minds is a good spanking or scolding.
We don't always only have these attitudes toward strangers. It seeps into our homes and our friendships and in the mirror. Dads are hard on sons, wanting them to act like "men" well before the times are passed when they just need to be a little boys. Us wives sit around in our circles and complain about our husbands shortcomings. We beat ourselves up when we forget something, double book our calendars, or can't be like the other lady down the street who "has it all together".
We live in a world filled with judgment, negativity, and assumptions. We are hard on each other. We are hard on ourselves. Harshness is dealt on a daily basis, in reality, for the simplest of mistakes.
I love to read the stories in the Bible and see all the things that our Jesus did. But we can learn a lot from what he didn't do.
In all four gospels, we read of Peter. He makes me smile a lot. He is full of less than holy humanity much of the time, but God turned his imperfections into the most beautiful story.
Probably the most noted story we read of Peter deals with him denying Christ. We have just read of his friendship and love declaration to Jesus at the Last Supper. And then we see him not once, not twice, but three times deny that he even knew his fearless leader and friend. He weeps and then he disappears from scripture for a bit.
In John 21, we see Peter and Jesus reunited. At first Peter can't even tell it's Christ on the shore, but when he does, his reaction is beautiful. Peter is too excited to row the boat to shore. He jumps out of his fishing boat and swims to where Jesus is. Can you imagine his joy? His best friend and Savior is alive! But I also bet he had a bit of fear.
"Is he going to still love me after I disowned him?"
In the true nature of himself, Jesus then serves his friends...he cooks dinner for them. They eat together. Then scripture lets us see a conversation between Jesus and Peter.
"Do you love me?"
Jesus asked Peter that question not once, not twice, but three times.
It is my belief that there are no such things as coincidences.
After Peter affirms his love and devotion to Christ, Jesus tells him to feed and care for His sheep. And he assures him that he will be guided and cared for as he guides and cares for God's people. Jesus let's Peter know he is loved as well, even after a pretty major mistake.
We don't see Jesus lash out and harshly condemn Peter. He isn't frustrated, offended, or filled with too hot of a temper. We do not see Christ filled with pride and disgust. He doesn't throw a slur or lash out with his opinion of Peter's behavior. He doesn't log onto the hottest of social media sites and rant about how stupid and wrong Peter was.
Jesus cooks him dinner and has a loving conversation, restoring the relationship without questioning motive, intent, or the reason for a mistake.
We need to realize others around us have bad days. People in our lives will mess up in small ways, and they will make the biggest of mistakes. Cashiers will give back incorrect change. Fast food orders will be wrong. Kids will spill drinks and act like kids. We will see people loose their cool and say the wrong things. People we love will cheat and lie. Folks we know will make mistakes. We will make mistakes.
Another's shortcomings do not give us permission to condemn them or excuse our own bad behavior.
So I am challenging myself and all of you. Let's speak only kind words when we run across the simple everyday mistakes. Post and tweet only the optimistic. Like the good statuses, pray for the not so good. Don't be so easily offended. Let's keep our opinions to ourselves if they can't be delivered with love. And be respectful of others' opinions. Be patient with the people who need it the most. Don't give up on the people you love when they mess up. Love on them a little harder. Find the good God intends us to find in the most difficult of situations.
We are all human and we are in need of grace. The kind of grace Jesus showed Peter. The kind of grace Jesus extends to each of us, day in and day out. And humanity is the only chance we have at seeing that grace in action each and every day.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
In Less Than Four Years
What a busy but blessed season this is! It seems as though our feet are hitting the ground just as fast as our heads are hitting the pillow each night. The door to the house has become a revolving one. It brings in old and new friends and sweet family members on an hourly basis it seems. It warms my heart and fills our home with love.
We have survived TCAP week, seen the end of another school year, and enjoyed a trip to Disney World. Jackson and Nancy Caroline have played a lot of baseball and softball, while Sadie continues to work hard at gymnastics. They have a slew of summer camps between the three of them. Michael and I have helped with the planning of WeCareCannon, started the ball rolling for Saba Summer Missions, and most importantly are working happily at being mom and dad.
Our family also saw Michel and Myron finish a school year at Lipscomb and head home for the summer. Wait...some of you still ask the question as to who these two fellas are. So, in a nut shell, they are our honorary "sons" from Saba.
Michel, the younger of the two, successfully finished his freshman year. He seems to have settled in well and even joined us on a mission trip back to his home island in March. I am very proud of him.
Myron graduated from Lipscomb with a degree in Enterprenership. He has worked so very hard and before he headed home to Saba for the summer he turned 21 and took the GMAT. We anxiously await the results and pray fervently for his success.
Those two words...Myron graduated...
In less than four years, one can get a degree from a very reputable Southern Christian university. In less than four years, a very young high school student can become a more than confident college graduate. In that short amount of time a young man can be on the brink of the business world.
In less than four years, an international student can make his way to a big U.S. City and lean upon the help of some senior college students to help him figure things out and begin to find his way. He can become roommates with a couple of "small town country boys". In the midst of dorm life with them he can find that small towns aren't that different from small islands. These roommates can also become the best of friends.
In less than four years, a young man can learn a new culture. He opens his mind and can see good things. But he can also identify the bad, and he can learn from both. The young man can learn the lingo of the people he has been emerged into. He can adapt to the differences, but he can stay very true to his roots and where he comes from. He can respectfully love both "homes" and realizes that the knowledge and love of both are a true gift from God.
In less than four years, a thirty something mother of three can learn how to grocery shop for a host of the males species. She can take ground beef and learn every recipe under the sun to make it as diverse as possible. She can learn to change bed sheets in the blink of an eye. That mom can learn to hold her breath a total of 36 seconds. That's how long it takes her to empty the clothes basket of 3 boys sweaty ball clothes into the washing machine.
That same mom can learn to appreciate the game of basketball in less than four years. She can learn the names of Los Angeles Laker players. She can get use to having a Florida Gator football fan in her house. In less than four years, the ESPN sports center chime can become one of her favorite sounds.
But more importantly, in less than four years a mom can learn her arms can hold the tiniest of babies, but they feel just as nice wrapped around her 20 year old "son" in a hug of encouragement.
In less than four years, a man can be faced with a bit of a dilemma. "Am I a dad? Am I a brother? Am I a mentor?" Finally that man can figure out that he is a bit of all three, and he can be very content with that realization. He can go on adventures, give advice, be a friend, and gently guide.
In less than four years, a big brother can become a little brother. Two little sisters can find themselves not in the majority any longer. Children are resilient and have the innocently big hearts that so many of us need to revert back to. So these siblings very easily open their exclusive club for another, and then another. In less than four years, they can gain two big brothers.
In less than four years, a family of five can very quickly become a family of six and then seven. That family can see the best out of each other, but can love each other through the worst. They can have expectations, but they learn to not make demands. They cheer each other on, they celebrate birthdays, and give each other encouragement. They laugh on road trips, play games around the kitchen table, and enjoy frequent trips to the Chinese buffet. The family worships together, invites the neighbors to play Sunday afternoon kickball, and learns the quickest route between Woodbury and Lipscomb.
In less than four years, one's heart can become happier...fuller...bigger.
In less than four years, I have learned so much from watching a 17 year old, 6'4", basketball loving, Caribbean boy become a 21 year old, broad shouldered, highly educated, professional young man. I have watched him love God, love on others, and love on us.
When Myron came I had no idea what we were saying "yes" to as he came to house on weekends. What I have learned the most during these four years is this...
If you live your life open to God's story continuing to be written in you, you most certainly will impact others, you will change people, you will disciple. You also will step outside your comfort zone, you will be confused at times, and you will be pushed to some limits.
But what you do not realize is that the greatest change you see will be how God changes you. He will open your mind. He will cause you to see that things are not about comfort and staying in the "bubble" of the small town American lifestyle. God will cause you to see that everything He has given you...your house, your car, your family, your talents...are not to be hoarded up for yourself and your inner circle. They are the tools He will use to grow the Kingdom through your walk with Him.
Open the doors of you home. Don't be afraid of your dirty laundry being aired out. Welcome in folks. Feed them. Set at the table with them. Talk with them. Let them see the life you live. Watch how they live. Learn from them and let them learn from you.
"Always be eager to practice hospitality..." Romans 12:13
I can still remember the first weekend Myron came "home" from Lipscomb. I worked so hard with my Martha mentality to ready the house. Our friend Shelton dropped him off. I remember the anxiety I felt wondering if he'd like our home life and what he expected out of this crazy Tennessee family of five. Could he take all the chaos and the noise? Would he be happy with what I cooked? He was about to see the "real" us, not the "10 day to two week mission trip us". Would he be disappointed?
Now I find myself holding all the answers to those questions. He loves us and our home...the good, the bad, and the ugly. He became one of us and we became one of him. The joy this brings me is unmatched.
So I sit now and miss his presence. Summer months are a bit too long. I already long to hear Myron and Michel banter back and forth as brothers do. I miss seeing him sit at his"office". I miss the sound of socca music bellowing from upstairs. I miss the sound of his chuckles from a random commercial or you tube video. Normal Thomas family life includes Myron and Michel's presence...the anxiety now is in the waiting of their return.
God is good...all we have to do is open our doors...and our hearts. You never can imagine what He will do. I mean, just look at what He did in less than four years.
We have survived TCAP week, seen the end of another school year, and enjoyed a trip to Disney World. Jackson and Nancy Caroline have played a lot of baseball and softball, while Sadie continues to work hard at gymnastics. They have a slew of summer camps between the three of them. Michael and I have helped with the planning of WeCareCannon, started the ball rolling for Saba Summer Missions, and most importantly are working happily at being mom and dad.
Our family also saw Michel and Myron finish a school year at Lipscomb and head home for the summer. Wait...some of you still ask the question as to who these two fellas are. So, in a nut shell, they are our honorary "sons" from Saba.
Michel, the younger of the two, successfully finished his freshman year. He seems to have settled in well and even joined us on a mission trip back to his home island in March. I am very proud of him.
Myron graduated from Lipscomb with a degree in Enterprenership. He has worked so very hard and before he headed home to Saba for the summer he turned 21 and took the GMAT. We anxiously await the results and pray fervently for his success.
Those two words...Myron graduated...
In less than four years, one can get a degree from a very reputable Southern Christian university. In less than four years, a very young high school student can become a more than confident college graduate. In that short amount of time a young man can be on the brink of the business world.
In less than four years, an international student can make his way to a big U.S. City and lean upon the help of some senior college students to help him figure things out and begin to find his way. He can become roommates with a couple of "small town country boys". In the midst of dorm life with them he can find that small towns aren't that different from small islands. These roommates can also become the best of friends.
In less than four years, a young man can learn a new culture. He opens his mind and can see good things. But he can also identify the bad, and he can learn from both. The young man can learn the lingo of the people he has been emerged into. He can adapt to the differences, but he can stay very true to his roots and where he comes from. He can respectfully love both "homes" and realizes that the knowledge and love of both are a true gift from God.
In less than four years, a thirty something mother of three can learn how to grocery shop for a host of the males species. She can take ground beef and learn every recipe under the sun to make it as diverse as possible. She can learn to change bed sheets in the blink of an eye. That mom can learn to hold her breath a total of 36 seconds. That's how long it takes her to empty the clothes basket of 3 boys sweaty ball clothes into the washing machine.
That same mom can learn to appreciate the game of basketball in less than four years. She can learn the names of Los Angeles Laker players. She can get use to having a Florida Gator football fan in her house. In less than four years, the ESPN sports center chime can become one of her favorite sounds.
But more importantly, in less than four years a mom can learn her arms can hold the tiniest of babies, but they feel just as nice wrapped around her 20 year old "son" in a hug of encouragement.
In less than four years, a man can be faced with a bit of a dilemma. "Am I a dad? Am I a brother? Am I a mentor?" Finally that man can figure out that he is a bit of all three, and he can be very content with that realization. He can go on adventures, give advice, be a friend, and gently guide.
In less than four years, a big brother can become a little brother. Two little sisters can find themselves not in the majority any longer. Children are resilient and have the innocently big hearts that so many of us need to revert back to. So these siblings very easily open their exclusive club for another, and then another. In less than four years, they can gain two big brothers.
In less than four years, a family of five can very quickly become a family of six and then seven. That family can see the best out of each other, but can love each other through the worst. They can have expectations, but they learn to not make demands. They cheer each other on, they celebrate birthdays, and give each other encouragement. They laugh on road trips, play games around the kitchen table, and enjoy frequent trips to the Chinese buffet. The family worships together, invites the neighbors to play Sunday afternoon kickball, and learns the quickest route between Woodbury and Lipscomb.
In less than four years, one's heart can become happier...fuller...bigger.
In less than four years, I have learned so much from watching a 17 year old, 6'4", basketball loving, Caribbean boy become a 21 year old, broad shouldered, highly educated, professional young man. I have watched him love God, love on others, and love on us.
When Myron came I had no idea what we were saying "yes" to as he came to house on weekends. What I have learned the most during these four years is this...
If you live your life open to God's story continuing to be written in you, you most certainly will impact others, you will change people, you will disciple. You also will step outside your comfort zone, you will be confused at times, and you will be pushed to some limits.
But what you do not realize is that the greatest change you see will be how God changes you. He will open your mind. He will cause you to see that things are not about comfort and staying in the "bubble" of the small town American lifestyle. God will cause you to see that everything He has given you...your house, your car, your family, your talents...are not to be hoarded up for yourself and your inner circle. They are the tools He will use to grow the Kingdom through your walk with Him.
Open the doors of you home. Don't be afraid of your dirty laundry being aired out. Welcome in folks. Feed them. Set at the table with them. Talk with them. Let them see the life you live. Watch how they live. Learn from them and let them learn from you.
"Always be eager to practice hospitality..." Romans 12:13
I can still remember the first weekend Myron came "home" from Lipscomb. I worked so hard with my Martha mentality to ready the house. Our friend Shelton dropped him off. I remember the anxiety I felt wondering if he'd like our home life and what he expected out of this crazy Tennessee family of five. Could he take all the chaos and the noise? Would he be happy with what I cooked? He was about to see the "real" us, not the "10 day to two week mission trip us". Would he be disappointed?
Now I find myself holding all the answers to those questions. He loves us and our home...the good, the bad, and the ugly. He became one of us and we became one of him. The joy this brings me is unmatched.
So I sit now and miss his presence. Summer months are a bit too long. I already long to hear Myron and Michel banter back and forth as brothers do. I miss seeing him sit at his"office". I miss the sound of socca music bellowing from upstairs. I miss the sound of his chuckles from a random commercial or you tube video. Normal Thomas family life includes Myron and Michel's presence...the anxiety now is in the waiting of their return.
God is good...all we have to do is open our doors...and our hearts. You never can imagine what He will do. I mean, just look at what He did in less than four years.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
A Shout Out to Teachers
This week has been a bit focused on the teaching profession. Someone along the way decided that we need a week devoted to "Teacher Appreciation". So each May since my oldest started school, I try to make sure I "appreciate" the ladies and gentlemen that I entrust to educate and academically guide my three kiddos.
Back in my elementary school years, there wasn't a week dedicated to this outward showing of appreciation. But nevertheless my mom had her gestures of thanks to my teachers. The most visual of these gestures was the Christmas red velvet cake. For the teachers that were lucky enough...smile...to have both me and my sister, their holidays were filled with anticipation as the last day before winter break approached. My mom's red velvet cakes were and still are pretty famous in Carthage.
I know my parents went above and beyond to make sure our teachers knew they were appreciated and valued. But I think it took me becoming a teacher myself, and even more so a parent of a student, to realize how special educators are.
See if I am honest, I can tell you that there are still many things that arise during any given week that bring to mind many specific things I heard my former teachers say, do, and teach.
Just a few weeks back I accompanied Sadie's first grade class to a natural history museum. Investigating the T-Rex skeleton with my first grader, took me back to the melody that filled Mrs. Carver's classroom.
"Tyrannosaurus Rex was a very mean king, and if it wasn't for him we'd have a happy ending."
When I eat a fried cherry pie I remember the fun and laughter had in Mrs. Hutchins second grade class. She made learning fun and made this kindergarten and first grade cry baby fall in love with school.
The acronym V.I.P. always brings to mind Mrs. Owens. She had a way of making each one of us feel loved. And it didn't hurt that we played kick ball a lot!
If we give a birthday or Christmas gift to a fourth grader, it's always one of two books...Anne of Green Gables or Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Harper, read to us each day after lunch. These were my favorite two books. Her after lunch reading time was my favorite part of the day.
When my two oldest come home with new knowledge of American history, I can still hear Mrs. Davis talk about the Civil War. And when they have a writing assignment, I feel prepared to help them due to the teaching of ladies like Mrs. Rich.
I am thankful that each time I read from the book of Proverbs, I can still hear the sweet voice of Mrs. Kathy Kemp and see her standing at her podium in Junior English class. And I am thankful that when I find myself in step to the background music of life, I have fond memories of Mr. Dowell. When I prepare a meal and take care of my home, I still relate back to the good teaching of Mrs. Lee.
As I have studied my profession throughout the years, I have found myself smiling with the realization, that yes, science does have something to do with my career and life. Ms. Honey was right all along.
And then there are those teachers that I have carried with me almost daily during certain seasons in life. You know the ones you want to make proud and pattern your life after. When I was in a classroom teaching I found myself teaching like Mrs. Connie Massey and immitating my ways after hers. When I explained things to my students, and continue to explain things to my kids at home, I go back to her advice and expertise.
And when I think about how I wanted my classroom to feel, how I wanted to be the teacher but also the friend, how I have wanted to carry myself in and out of the classroom, I had and have the memories of Mrs. Fulton and the comfort of her classroom. I think of how the words of encouragement, and even at times frankness, fell from her mouth with grace and love.
These teachers, and the many more that I haven't mentioned but also learned so very much from, made me who I am. They changed my life. They have helped me be a good student, a prepared college graduate, a fellow teacher, a wife and mother, and a better person from their instruction, example, and leadership.
Today I smile with that realization, and I am blessed to be able to identify that now in order to witness the miraculous work that is going on in my own school age children.
It amazes me to see how Mrs. Holly and Ms. Taylor have helped Sadie become a fluent reader. They enjoy and love her personality almost as much as I do and that means more than anything to this mom!
The encouragement and confidence Nancy Caroline has gained from women like Ms. Alysia, Ms. Loftis, and Ms. Mathis can not be matched. She will be a strong leader and secure in her decisions thanks to their guidance.
Jackson has been loved so well by ladies like Mrs. Jessica, Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Gannon. The patience they have shown with his speech beautifully assisted his therapists with his development and growth.
He will always know learning is important and fun thanks to teachers like Dr. Odom and Mr. Parker. And I am thankful he has men like Mr. Smith to look up to and model his life after.
Principals and educators like Mrs. Bonnie Patterson and Ms. Sebrena Wade will forever be friends and champions of my children. Relational living is a huge part of teaching!
Our three have learned so much from ALL of their teachers, therapists, and tutors, even though I do not call them all by name here. Our community of educators in our family's life is counted a huge blessing!
The role that teachers play in our lives is taken for granted in many cases. The good teachers, the great ones are under appreciated, under valued, and under paid. I know first hand how much imagination, creativity, patience, and time most teachers give. They devote their lives to finding wonderful ways to fill children with the knowledge and abilities to make the world a better place filled with better people.
This devotion doesn't only happen from 7am to 3pm, Monday through Friday, during the months of August through May. It takes place in Summer workshops and furthering education seminars. It happens at after school staff meetings and collaboration sessions with fellow teachers. The commitment is spent playing with kids at recess and giving tutoring sessions. The devotion can be seen at their kitchen tables and in their living room floors during the wee hours of the morning as they write lesson plans and grade papers. It occurs when they take on the added responsibility of coaching a team, leading a cheer squad, sponsoring a club, or overseeing an after school activity, even on the weekends.
When you are a teacher, you never leave your "job". A teacher takes home the burdens of the child that is malnourished or mistreated. She will wake up at night wondering if some of her students are happy and safe. He will find ways to make sure his students feel loved outside of the school walls. Teachers will attend recitals, ballgames, and eventually graduations. Good teachers go to bat for their students when they are being dealt something that is unfair. She ends up being the supervising teacher of the student teacher that formerly could be found on her class roll. Some become wedding guests and friends on Facebook. Former teachers celebrate babies being born and console when life is a bit tough.
Teachers, these things, all these things, this outstanding, hard, and tedious job you do with such love and enthusiasm...it is appreciated and respected and admired.
Thank you to the teachers who have, have had, and continue to care for, educate, and guide my children. You have answered a calling that is esteemed and appreciated by so many, including this mother of three. I entrust you with my greatest blessings, and on occasion if I get a bit bent out of shape or overbearing, I apologize. I pray for you and the school in which you work every morning and every night. I ask that you pray for me as I mother. And I promise to make sure that the Thomas kids realize and acknowledge what you have done, are doing, and will continue to do for them. In our words..."You rock!"
All the red velvet cake in the world couldn't be enough to show all of my former school teachers how much I continue to appreciate them today. Thank you for the education and guidance you provided. Not only about math, science, language arts, and everything in between found in the text books...but about living life and succeeding. Thank you for not being perfect teachers, but teachers that taught even imperfection can bring about greatness.
Back in my elementary school years, there wasn't a week dedicated to this outward showing of appreciation. But nevertheless my mom had her gestures of thanks to my teachers. The most visual of these gestures was the Christmas red velvet cake. For the teachers that were lucky enough...smile...to have both me and my sister, their holidays were filled with anticipation as the last day before winter break approached. My mom's red velvet cakes were and still are pretty famous in Carthage.
I know my parents went above and beyond to make sure our teachers knew they were appreciated and valued. But I think it took me becoming a teacher myself, and even more so a parent of a student, to realize how special educators are.
See if I am honest, I can tell you that there are still many things that arise during any given week that bring to mind many specific things I heard my former teachers say, do, and teach.
Just a few weeks back I accompanied Sadie's first grade class to a natural history museum. Investigating the T-Rex skeleton with my first grader, took me back to the melody that filled Mrs. Carver's classroom.
"Tyrannosaurus Rex was a very mean king, and if it wasn't for him we'd have a happy ending."
When I eat a fried cherry pie I remember the fun and laughter had in Mrs. Hutchins second grade class. She made learning fun and made this kindergarten and first grade cry baby fall in love with school.
The acronym V.I.P. always brings to mind Mrs. Owens. She had a way of making each one of us feel loved. And it didn't hurt that we played kick ball a lot!
If we give a birthday or Christmas gift to a fourth grader, it's always one of two books...Anne of Green Gables or Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Harper, read to us each day after lunch. These were my favorite two books. Her after lunch reading time was my favorite part of the day.
When my two oldest come home with new knowledge of American history, I can still hear Mrs. Davis talk about the Civil War. And when they have a writing assignment, I feel prepared to help them due to the teaching of ladies like Mrs. Rich.
I am thankful that each time I read from the book of Proverbs, I can still hear the sweet voice of Mrs. Kathy Kemp and see her standing at her podium in Junior English class. And I am thankful that when I find myself in step to the background music of life, I have fond memories of Mr. Dowell. When I prepare a meal and take care of my home, I still relate back to the good teaching of Mrs. Lee.
As I have studied my profession throughout the years, I have found myself smiling with the realization, that yes, science does have something to do with my career and life. Ms. Honey was right all along.
And then there are those teachers that I have carried with me almost daily during certain seasons in life. You know the ones you want to make proud and pattern your life after. When I was in a classroom teaching I found myself teaching like Mrs. Connie Massey and immitating my ways after hers. When I explained things to my students, and continue to explain things to my kids at home, I go back to her advice and expertise.
And when I think about how I wanted my classroom to feel, how I wanted to be the teacher but also the friend, how I have wanted to carry myself in and out of the classroom, I had and have the memories of Mrs. Fulton and the comfort of her classroom. I think of how the words of encouragement, and even at times frankness, fell from her mouth with grace and love.
These teachers, and the many more that I haven't mentioned but also learned so very much from, made me who I am. They changed my life. They have helped me be a good student, a prepared college graduate, a fellow teacher, a wife and mother, and a better person from their instruction, example, and leadership.
Today I smile with that realization, and I am blessed to be able to identify that now in order to witness the miraculous work that is going on in my own school age children.
It amazes me to see how Mrs. Holly and Ms. Taylor have helped Sadie become a fluent reader. They enjoy and love her personality almost as much as I do and that means more than anything to this mom!
The encouragement and confidence Nancy Caroline has gained from women like Ms. Alysia, Ms. Loftis, and Ms. Mathis can not be matched. She will be a strong leader and secure in her decisions thanks to their guidance.
Jackson has been loved so well by ladies like Mrs. Jessica, Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Gannon. The patience they have shown with his speech beautifully assisted his therapists with his development and growth.
He will always know learning is important and fun thanks to teachers like Dr. Odom and Mr. Parker. And I am thankful he has men like Mr. Smith to look up to and model his life after.
Principals and educators like Mrs. Bonnie Patterson and Ms. Sebrena Wade will forever be friends and champions of my children. Relational living is a huge part of teaching!
Our three have learned so much from ALL of their teachers, therapists, and tutors, even though I do not call them all by name here. Our community of educators in our family's life is counted a huge blessing!
The role that teachers play in our lives is taken for granted in many cases. The good teachers, the great ones are under appreciated, under valued, and under paid. I know first hand how much imagination, creativity, patience, and time most teachers give. They devote their lives to finding wonderful ways to fill children with the knowledge and abilities to make the world a better place filled with better people.
This devotion doesn't only happen from 7am to 3pm, Monday through Friday, during the months of August through May. It takes place in Summer workshops and furthering education seminars. It happens at after school staff meetings and collaboration sessions with fellow teachers. The commitment is spent playing with kids at recess and giving tutoring sessions. The devotion can be seen at their kitchen tables and in their living room floors during the wee hours of the morning as they write lesson plans and grade papers. It occurs when they take on the added responsibility of coaching a team, leading a cheer squad, sponsoring a club, or overseeing an after school activity, even on the weekends.
When you are a teacher, you never leave your "job". A teacher takes home the burdens of the child that is malnourished or mistreated. She will wake up at night wondering if some of her students are happy and safe. He will find ways to make sure his students feel loved outside of the school walls. Teachers will attend recitals, ballgames, and eventually graduations. Good teachers go to bat for their students when they are being dealt something that is unfair. She ends up being the supervising teacher of the student teacher that formerly could be found on her class roll. Some become wedding guests and friends on Facebook. Former teachers celebrate babies being born and console when life is a bit tough.
Teachers, these things, all these things, this outstanding, hard, and tedious job you do with such love and enthusiasm...it is appreciated and respected and admired.
Thank you to the teachers who have, have had, and continue to care for, educate, and guide my children. You have answered a calling that is esteemed and appreciated by so many, including this mother of three. I entrust you with my greatest blessings, and on occasion if I get a bit bent out of shape or overbearing, I apologize. I pray for you and the school in which you work every morning and every night. I ask that you pray for me as I mother. And I promise to make sure that the Thomas kids realize and acknowledge what you have done, are doing, and will continue to do for them. In our words..."You rock!"
All the red velvet cake in the world couldn't be enough to show all of my former school teachers how much I continue to appreciate them today. Thank you for the education and guidance you provided. Not only about math, science, language arts, and everything in between found in the text books...but about living life and succeeding. Thank you for not being perfect teachers, but teachers that taught even imperfection can bring about greatness.
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