Month: August 2017

What 50 Years of Love Can Do

Posted on by Paula
Mom as Homecoming Queen Dancing With Dad

I sifted through the photos, and my daughter used them to make decorations. One of the photos I came across was a precious picture of Mom and Dad dancing when Mom was crowned homecoming queen. Jessica captioned it with, “Dance like no one is watching; it’s just you and me.” That’s how it started—just the two of them, probably not realizing that they were being watched by those around them. Over the years, however, they were making an impact. Mom and Dad showed me and many others what true love is.

The homecoming queen graduated and got married. Her husband was drafted into the army, and then he left for boot camp. He was allowed a short trip home when his first daughter (That would be me!) was born. Then he was sent to Vietnam. It must have been hard on the young couple to be separated, especially with a new baby. They weathered the storm by exchanging letters and photos and praying a lot of prayers as God took care of them until Dad’s time of service ended. Within a few years of dad coming home, their family grew to five with two active daughters and a very busy son. Dad worked hard at the car lot while Mom worked hard at home.

Vietnam wasn’t the only difficulty that would arise in their life together. Before Mom was even 30, she lost her own mom to cancer. She took care of Grandma while also trying to take care of three little kids. Mom battled cancer herself 15 years ago, and Dad has spent his share of time in the hospital over the past couple of years. Of course, we three kids and ten grandkids have given them several challenges over the years as well. They have definitely experienced what it meant when they vowed, “for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” While Mom and Dad did what they needed to do to take care of us through whatever life brought, they were teaching us what true love is, whether they realized it or not.

As Mom and Dad’s 50th anniversary approached this year, my siblings and I worked together with our spouses and children on planning a celebration. As I worked on decorations and refreshments in the evenings, I thought of the times in my childhood that I’d wake up in the middle of the night to see Mom decorating our birthday cakes. I also remembered how Mom always made sure that we had a special outfit for Easter Sunday and the Christmas programs. There were many times that Mom sat at the sewing machine while everyone else slept. She was up into the wee hours of the morning sometimes, putting the finishing touches on our new clothes that people would always compliment us on when they saw us the next day. I can also remember dad working hard after hours with customers but always coming home to see us over lunch and also finding time to spend his coffee break with us at the Fischer’s Hi-Boy down the road from the car lot. Mom and Dad worked hard, but they always made time for what was important, and we kids felt loved.

Dad and Mom taught us that time was way more important than money. Mom didn’t have a job outside the home to bring in extra income when we were young. Instead, she chose to spend as much time as she could, pouring into her children and home. Because she was home, we always had delicious home-cooked meals and often had fresh baked cookies waiting for us when we got home from school. She always had time to listen and also took time to read to us, help us with homework and play with us. She found time to lead my Girl Scout troop, teach Vacation Bible School and help us learn the importance of serving as she towed us around while she delivered Meals on Wheels to the elderly.

Being a single-income home meant that my parents also had to budget differently than households where both parents worked. They taught us kids to spend our money wisely. Investing in people was more important than investing in things. The memories we made going on our yearly family vacations, trips to fair and visits to the zoo are the happiest of memories. I remember riding the Scrambler with my dad, holding my mom’s hand at the zoo while a balloon with a picture of a chimpanzee was tied around my wrist, riding through the mountains of Tennessee in our 1964 red Rambler and watching the movie from the back seat at the drive inn and eating the popcorn mom had popped, but I couldn’t tell you what brand of blue jeans or tennis shoes I wore. I just know that I always had nice, clean clothes that fit, plenty of food and never lacked for anything. I felt safe and loved. Mom and Dad knew what was the most important.

We kids definitely learned from Mom and Dad that spending time together is important. We always ate our meals together around the table. They taught us to give thanks to God before eating, and then we always talked and laughed as we ate. My sister and I often spent extra quality time sitting together at the table and staring at our cold food if there was broccoli or creamed corn, but that too created some happy memories.

Dad and Mom also taught us patience by their own example. One of dad’s favorite things to do was to fish, and he often took us kids out in the boat. Dad would watch us cast our line and tell us to wait until we felt a fish tug or until we saw our bobber go under. However we would get impatient and reel it back in if we didn’t get a bite right away. Repeatedly casting and reeling our line in of course caused us to lose our bait, and Dad would spend most of his time helping us bait our hooks rather than catching the monster fish he was after. I was also very good at casting my bait into the trees on the bank. Over and over, Dad would troll to the shore to retrieve my hook from the tree. Shortly after, my sister would snag something under the water, and dad would have to help her break free as well. Then someone would whine that they needed to go to the bathroom or ask if they could dangle their feet over the edge. Through it all, Dad remained patient and somehow never lost his temper.

Mom’s patience was tested as well while we kids created messes, got into arguments and complained that we were bored with nothing to do. On top of all the shopping, cooking, laundry, cleaning and sewing, she also patiently taught us responsibility. It would have been much faster for Mom to clean up all of our messes and separate us when we fought, but she wanted us to become responsible adults. The simple chores that she started us with such as picking up our toys, doing the dishes or dusting could take us hours as we complained, piddled around or got distracted playing, but Mom would persist in making sure we got it done rather than giving into our whining and doing it for us. She also taught us to work out our differences with each other along the way so that we would understand how to work out our differences with other people. This took a lot more time and patience than simply breaking up our fights and punishing us so that we’d get along. I’m sure there were days that she was so frustrated with our lack of cooperation, but she patiently helped us to grow and mature.

Of all the things that my parents taught us through their example, the most important one was how to follow Jesus. Mom and Dad took us to church every Sunday. Dad was a deacon and Mom volunteered with communion, the ladies’ ministry and the children. Some of my sweetest memories of my dad are the times that I walked in and catch him reading his Bible. My mom taught me the importance of praying and sharing my struggles with the One who could fix it. They taught us right and wrong and set the example themselves of how to live out what we knew in our heads.

Just as we kids were looking to Mom and Dad, others were looking to them as well. Mom and Dad always put others first. They were parents not just to us, but to our friends. Mom got help for one of my friends who was in an abusive home and hugged on my friends who needed it. Dad gave people rides across town and gave money for gasoline, groceries and medicine when people were short on cash. They let people come in to use the phone, listened to their problems, took meals, helped watch others’ kids and helped with repairs. I remember one winter when Dad even gave away his only coat away because someone else didn’t have one.

So, yesterday, when we surprised Mom and Dad with a celebration for their 50th wedding anniversary the was room filled with too many people to count. Still it was only a fraction of the lives they touched over the years. Sadly, we couldn’t invite every single one of their friends and family because we just couldn’t have fit them into the building. So many people told us how special Mom and Dad are and that they wouldn’t miss their celebration for anything. Over their 50 years together, my parents have touched the lives of many, many people, but especially mine. I am so thankful that God blessed me with such wonderful parents, and I am proud to be their daughter. My prayer for them yesterday was that they would feel special and loved as friends and family came to celebrate, and my prayer for them today is that God will continue to bless them in ways bigger than they could ask or imagine. I have truly been blessed with the best parents in the world!

Mom and Dad’s Family Today

One Breath at a Time

Posted on by Paula

Gone are the days of the busy signal. The days when we could only receive one call at a time have passed. If someone doesn’t answer the phone, we can send them a text message. On top of that, we have e-mail, video calling and instant messaging. We have reached a point that we expect each other to be available whenever we want an answer. Having so many ways to communicate can be a good thing at times, but it can also become exhausting.

Last night, I put on my faded t-shirt that used to be my son’s band shirt, slipped on my comfy pajama pants that had shrunk into highwaters and eased into my fluffy pink striped socks that didn’t match because that’s just how I felt. Then I did the unthinkable…. I shut off my phone. I didn’t just put it on the charger in the other room. I didn’t just screen my messages. I totally shut it off.

It’s normal to find me holed up in my little sanctuary on the sunporch on Sunday afternoons and evenings. I committed this year to set that time aside each week to reflect on the great things God had done over the past week, to practice spiritual concentration, to journal and to blog. I look forward to this special time with just God and me but often have interruptions causing me to think and to write late into the night or early into the morning. Staying up so late causes me to break another commitment I made this year, the commitment to get more rest.

This is the year that I really set out on a quest for balance in my life. I want to have that rich, satisfying abundant life that Jesus promises through him. I want to be yoked to him, learn from him and find rest for my soul. So when things are out of whack in my life, I have to question myself, “Am I yoked to him?” If my burden is too heavy, that means that I have loaded too much upon myself. For his “yoke is easy” and his “burden is light.”

So here I was, eager for my Sunday afternoon time of reflection of God’s goodness and refreshment for my soul, but the interruptions and distractions started. I slipped onto the porch and journaled for a while and then took a break to eat and talk a little bit with my family. After that, I came back out to the porch, shut the doors, shut off the phone and shut the world out, trashed house and all.

I laid down on the floor to sort things out with God. There were so many things out of my control. I felt a bit discouraged and a bit overwhelmed. My body was drained, and my heart was racing. My mind was cluttered, yet blank at the same time. I longed for God; I longed for rest.

“How did I reach this point again anyway?” I asked my Daddy as I laid at his feet, basking in his love. I had taken on too much again. I had too many thoughts and too much on my to do list. It was time to blog, but I had no words. I thought about going to bed. “Maybe I just won’t write this week,” I thought to myself, but I knew that if I broke my commitment this week, it would be much easier to break the next, just like it was with my eating, my exercising and my rest.

The load was too big. I decided I could either quit in my discouragement or put it completely in God’s hands. I knew deep down that although quitting seemed like the easy way out, it would not lead me to that rich, satisfying, abundant life that I long for.

I made a list, I gave it to God and I set some boundaries for this week. I will have to block off times that I can work undisturbed. Messages can wait until after my morning study and prayer time so that I can focus on listening for God and letting him pour his Spirit into me. Then, I can later pour into others.  I have certain responsibilities that I absolutely must take care of and I need to stay on task in order to do that. I will pray for discernment to tell the difference between God’s appointments and Satan’s distractions.

I will put on the full armor of God, I will prioritize with God and I will take things one breath at a time. I will not stress or panic but will simply let him breathe into me so that I can exhale his love and grace to those around me.

And so I continue to take things one day at a time when possible, but sometimes things must be taken one hour at a time, one minute at a time or one breath at a time. Yes. This might very well be a “one breath at a time” week. And so I say, “Breathe into me, dear Lord. Breathe into me and help me to take life one breath at a time. Help me find balance and rest and abundantly rich and satisfying life in you.”

Dear Teacher

Posted on by Paula

 

Dear Teacher,

You love what you do, but you needed to catch your breath, relax your body, rejuvenate your mind and refresh your soul. Summer may have flown by a little bit too quickly for you, but the call to teach is already tugging on your heart. You remember the faces and are anxious to see how they are doing. You have been worried about some of them because you know their life is difficult.

You are a hard worker. You have spent hours decorating your classroom in ways that will inspire your students’ minds. You’ve been working on creative lesson plans remembering that some children learn in different ways than others. You’ve prepared extra activities realizing that some of your students need challenged so they don’t become bored while others need extra help just to make it through. Your desks will soon be filled with so many unique individuals with so many different needs. You will be helping your pupils to discover that learning can be fun and that each person has different strengths and passions that will help them succeed.

You find great joy in the students who are eager to learn and eager to please you, but you also encounter students who will be too tired to focus, disinterested in what you are teaching or desperate for the attention of anyone who they can distract. Some students are a joy, and others will exhaust you before the end of the day. Yet regardless of what attitude each one brings into your classroom at the beginning of the year, you are determined to break through and inspire that student to have become a better person when your time with them is done.

Not only do you care about each student’s education, you also care about their whole well-being. You see the hurt in their eyes and know who needs a hug. You understand when students don’t have the supplies they need because their single mom is unable to shop after working all day and then trying to cook dinner, wash laundry and help with homework. You have asked if your friends and family have khakis that a student needs to wear for their chorus concert or their homecoming dance. You’ve quietly slipped deodorant or food items into a backpack when no one was looking. You’ve looked, you’ve listened, you’ve cared.

There have been days when your heart is overwhelmed in knowing the struggles that some of your students have. There have also been days of frustration when you’ve felt no one is listening, and you question if you can ever get through to them. You have faced parents who disagree with your teaching methods, your classroom rules or the grade their child was given on their exam. You have had people outside the classroom telling you how you need to do things when you are the one who works with the students on a daily basis and actually know what is best. I’m sorry to say that you will most likely have those days again this year.

You will work all day, go home to take care of your own family and then work into the night to prepare for the next day. You will purchase materials that aren’t covered in the classroom budget. Your mind will race some nights when you go to bed because you can’t stop thinking about the girl who keeps getting bullied or the boy who wears long sleeved shirts when it’s warm to hide the cuts on his arms. You will lie awake wondering how you can help a student who isn’t grasping an important concept. You will be physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted at times, but do not let yourself get discouraged. What you are doing is making a difference.

You will never know how far the influence you have on your students will go. Who knows what a student might figure out to improve technology when they finally understand an idea you’ve been teaching. You are inspiring future financial wizards, doctors, nurses, surgeons, policemen, firefighters, pilots, designers, scientists, engineers, musicians, artists, athletes, lawyers, writers…. You are even inspiring further teachers.

You are not only teaching them knowledge, you are teaching them to be responsible citizens. You are building them up and teaching them to build others up as well. You are pouring all that you have into the lives that will impact our future.

Let me assure you that your kindness will not be forgotten. I graduated high school more than 30 years ago, but I can remember every one of my teachers and something special about each one. I can remember tricks to spelling certain words, math shortcuts, different styles and paint mediums and songs as far back as kindergarten. I can remember Mr. Donaldson making history come alive for me after years of hating the class. I will never forget the kindness of Mr. Picket who comforted me when my grandpa died or the thoughtfulness of my math teacher, Mrs. Raney who recognized that I had asthma and told me to go to the doctor. I remember the smiles, I remember the hugs and I remember the encouragement. Your students will as well.

I am praying for you as school starts and asking God to give you wisdom, patience and peace and that the love and grace of Jesus would flow through you and be recognized by your students, their families, your colleagues and your bosses. I pray that on the days that you are overwhelmed, you would be encouraged in knowing that you are making a huge impact. You can never tell how far your influence will go, but be assured in knowing that you are making a difference each and every day.

So smile, hug, laugh, encourage, observe, teach and take great pride in knowing that you have one of the most important jobs there are.

Have a wonderful school year! May God bless you as you are a blessing to many!

Don’t Miss Out on His Purpose

Posted on by Paula

Life was carefree growing up in the seventies and eighties. We were normal kids from small-town Effingham and Teutopolis, Illinois. Our parents were good friends, and we spent a lot of time together. We were definitely more like family than friends, and Janee’ was like a little sister to me. We have many happy memories of playing Barbies and games like “Old Maid” and “Go Fish” for hours on end. Summers were filled with eating popsicles, drinking Kool-aid, splashing in wading pools and running through the sprinkler. We’d catch baby frogs in the spring and butterflies and lightning bugs in the summer.

Our parents would often play cards late into the night, and we would be put to bed. I liked it best when the card games were held at Janee’s house. Janee’s bedroom was just across the hall from the room my siblings and I would be put to bed in. The kitchen, where our parents played cards, was far away down the hall. The arrangement made it easy for us to sneak back and forth in between the rooms and continue playing. The layout at our house was much more difficult with her in my parents’ bedroom just off the kitchen. We tried to continue our fun after we were sent to bed, but it was just too easy to get caught.

Life got busier as we got older, and we lost track of each other for a while. I was excited when I ran into her mother who told me that she had moved overseas to work with missions. We wrote letters and sent e-mails before the days of social media and later found each other on Facebook. From her personal Facebook profile, I found her blog which I now subscribe to so that I can keep up-to-date with how God is at work in her life. She also recently created a Facebook page, “Seasoned with Spice” for those who don’t have time to read a blog but would like to learn about her ministry.

Janee’ is a very good writer and shares fascinating stories of what life in Antwerp, Belgium is like for herself, her Syrian husband named, Hary, and their two young daughters, Phoebe and Maria-Grace. Janee’s blog has been inspiring to me as I have read story after story about God answering prayers and working in ways that only God can work to help Janee’ get Syrian family members to safety when hope would seem lost to most. She also shares stories of Muslims giving their lives to Jesus Christ and sharing his love with others. Life is very different and sometimes challenging in the Muslim community in which Janee’s family lives, but her family loves the people and has a passion to share the love of Jesus with those around them. Because of the war, they also have the opportunity to share the Gospel with refugee’s from Syria and Iraq.

Whether it be Hary’s job, the children’s school, the store, the coffee shop or wherever they go, Janee’s family is committed to God, and their “heart is to see the Arabic world know Jesus.” One emerging ministry of theirs is an ongoing discipleship program that will disciple and train individuals to go out in the villages and small towns to start Bible studies, houses of prayer and churches. They have a refugee feeding project in which a team of Arabic men visit the refugee holding camps and invite people to join them for a hot meal and to hear about Jesus. Almost every single one of those invited come from a Muslim background. They have prayer walks and prayer ministries and also treat Arabic women by hosting a “spiritual day” once a year with singing, teaching, praying and eating together.

The list of how they reach out to the Arabic people and in Belgium and to refugees from Syria and Iraq goes on and on. Janee’s family seizes every opportunity to share the love of Jesus with those around them. They long for the day when Hary, who is a “tent maker” will be free to evangelize full time.

Janee’ was back in the states from July 13 – August 6 this year. I was blessed to hear her speak at her “home” church, First Baptist Church in Effingham, to talk with her over lunch and to hear more about the amazing ways that God is at work in Belgium. I am also excited for the opportunity to partner with her financially through CBF. Who knows? Maybe I will even have the chance to visit her in Belgium someday and partner with her there in prayer, in serving and in sharing the love of Jesus.

In honor of her Janee’s birthday on August 8, I’d love for you to say a prayer for her and her family and to check out her blog, “Seasoned With Spice:  An American Woman in an Arab World” or her Facebook Page, “Seasoned With Spice.” If God tugs at your heart, and you too would like to partner with her financially, you can find more information by clicking here.

As a little girl, I had no idea that God would call Janee’ to join the mission field. I would have never thought that she would find a way to e-mail and get a response from the Queen of Jordan or that she would connect with famous people for help in freeing some of her Syrian in-laws. However, God had a purpose for Janee’ long before she was even conceived; she only had to listen to his whisper on her heart and obey his call.

God has a purpose for you as well! Maybe part of your purpose is in making a donation to help Janee’ and Hary reach the Arab world for Christ. Maybe God plans to send you to Belgium, Costa Rica, Haiti, Thailand, Russia…. Maybe he simply plans for you to share the Gospel of Jesus with your neighbor, co-worker or family member. Whatever your purpose, I hope that you will listen. I hope that you will obey. Don’t miss out on the blessings he has waiting for you!