Who’s Your Mama?

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By Lynna Clark

I’ve never been one to decorate for Christmas early. In fact, for many years Christmas reminded me of the year my mom died during that holiday. Our family barely functioned as we went through the season like zombies. However just lately, I thought about getting a new tree while there’s still plenty of time. Then someone posted on Facebook that anyone thinking about Christmas this early should just stop that crazy because “Joseph don’t even know Mary’s pregnant yet.”
Made me laugh.


Then my thoughts went to Mary. Bless her sweet heart. Apparently she was highly favored and yet even she asked, “How can this be?” I love that Scripture includes that.


Another favorite woman of mine in the Bible is Rahab. Bless her not so innocent heart. Her name is always tagged with “the harlot.” As if somebody missed that about her. Shesh. Not that I would presume to correct Scripture, but holy cow. Could we not at least include, “the woman formerly known as…”? Again, bless her heart. I guess it wouldn’t matter. She’ll always be THAT woman…


Except that the Lord fixed it.


Have you heard the story of Ruth and Naomi? It’s about a faithful gentile widow Ruth, who was so devoted to her husband’s Jewish mother, Naomi, that she followed her into a foreign land so that she could take care of her. Naomi herself admitted to being less than easy to live with. She called herself “bitter.” Soooo… not a peach. Anyway, God provided for Ruth and her bitter old mother-in-law by sending a faithful man to marry Ruth. Here’s where it gets fun.


Guess who Ruth’s new mother-in-law was? Yep. Good ol’ worldly, pagan, been around the block Rahab. Oy vey. I bet that made for some interesting Sunday lunches.


Personally I find myself between faithful, godly, innocent Mary the mother of Jesus and Rahab been-around-the-block-harlot. Not near as good as Mary, but not all that bad either. Therefore I think it’s wise to remember. If God can use the best of the best, and the worst of the worst, can He not use me, Lynna the Whinybutt? Even in my weakness He sees me as the one He created to serve a purpose. For His glory I was made for good things. How amazing is His grace. I would love to sit with Mary and hear the story of how things worked out in her life. But I really think Rahab had some stories to tell! Maybe that’s why she’s listed as “the harlot.” Perhaps God wanted to let us identify with a less than model citizen.


As for us regular Joes and Janes, “We are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” -Ephesians 2:10


Sidenote: For more about how Rahab saved her family, read Joshua chapter 2. To see her place in the lineage of the Messiah, see Matthew 1:5.

Now let’s go order a Christmas tree before it is eternally too late.

A Moment that Mattered

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By Ann Farabee

For a split second, I was almost in trouble at school.

Shocking, I know.

Thankfully, it was a false alarm.

When my sixth grade teacher instructed the class to line up, I would always scurry to be first. Then I would work diligently to make sure everyone else lined up in a straight line!

I am sure my teacher appreciated my efforts.

After finishing our daily work, we were supposed to read a book. I was excellent at reading books, but some students talked when they were supposed to be reading. I made sure to keep an eye on them as I read, just in case the teacher did not notice that they were not following the instructions.

Sometimes, I got to take names when the teacher left the room. It was quite an honor and I was insistent on doing it right. Well, sort of. I could possibly be coerced at times — especially by cute boys. I would write their name on the chalkboard and then erase it several times because their behavior improved slightly. Or was it because they were begging me? Overall, I would say I was not too bad as a name-taker. Usually by the time the teacher came back, I had erased all the names I had written on the board.

One day, my streak of being a perfect student was put in jeopardy. While everyone was supposed to be reading, I pulled out some secret papers I kept hidden in my desk. It was my life’s secret work, for I was writing a best seller on notebook paper, front and back, about being on tour with the Beatles — John, Paul, George and Ringo.

One day, as I was minding my own business at my desk, there she stood — my teacher — reaching for my stapled papers. Tears filled my eyes because I knew she would rip them in half and throw them in the trash can like I had seen her do many times when she retrieved items from other students.

She flipped through the precious pages that held my Beatles Best Seller. She took it to her desk. She sat down. She was reading it! I also noticed that big trash can beside her desk where she threw away items she had confiscated from her students. I was not hopeful about the outcome of this situation.

It was an incredibly long wait. Front and back. Page after page. She kept reading. I was fearfully awaiting the thump I would hear when my papers hit the teacher’s trash can. But it didn’t happen. What I feared would be placed in the trash can actually became a life-defining moment. She called me to her desk, placed those precious pages back in my hands, and looked me in the eyes as she said, “You are a good writer.”

I can guarantee that no one — not even the meanest kid in the class — could have wiped that smile off my face. From my teacher, I had heard the words “good” and “writer” in the same sentence about what I had written. I never finished writing my book. It ended up in my closet. I suppose I eventually threw it away.

But you cannot throw away the words of affirmation from my teacher that were inevitably etched in my 11-year-old mind, “You are a good writer.” Those five words created a moment that mattered.

I wish I had known enough to smile a little that day when I heard those words from my teacher as she envisioned a bit of my future that I lacked the confidence to even begin to imagine.

Someone thought I was a good writer, and they took the time to tell me so. Those words from a teacher mattered. Those words began to change the trajectory of my life.

What if she had tossed my writing in the trash can and reprimanded me because I was supposed to be reading? But she did not. She chose to not only read it, but also to respond to it.

A few weeks later, I published (made copies on the copy machine) our first edition of 6th Grade News at Woodrow Wilson School.

Our words matter. Our actions matter. Sometimes they may change a life.

Are our words ordained by God?

Can our lives be shaped by God through circumstances or words? The answer is yes!

In creation, God brought everything into existence, shaped it for His purpose and called it good.

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.

Lessons from the Autumn of Life

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By Ashlie Miller

Along with crimson reds, warm embers, intensely deep purple leaves, fruits and berries, and pecans & acorns, autumn also brings teachable moments in the brown falling leaves, the winds, and the rains. Many life lessons can be learned in autumn related to change and life cycles. The season provides small examples of how to gently present to children the idea of overwhelming topics like aging and death.

When my teens were very young, I came across this quote: “Youth is like spring, an over-praised season more remarkable for biting winds than genial breezes. Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers, we more than gain in fruits.” ~Samuel Butler

When was the last time you stopped to value those in the autumn of their lives? The quote above reflects that embrace. We praise the young for their input and seeming knowledge in our society. We glorify, edify, and value all things in youth culture. Yet, in the passion and ambition of the young, often “biting winds” knock over everything in their path. I was guilty of that as a young teen and adult, viewing those over middle age who appear mellower to have given up, trading vigor for apathy or compromising their passion.

I recall when I was a young parent with little boys eager to venture on an autumn nature walk in the neighborhood. One neighbor had several pecan trees, and we picked up a few from the ground and even from the tree for observation. What a lesson we were about to learn about life and people!

With apologies to columnist Darrell Blackwelder, the actual horticulturalist, I humbly share our observations. Not knowing much about harvesting pecans then, I assumed that anything we saw – green nuts on the tree, fallen nuts on the ground – was all up for grabs and ready to taste. We learned the hard way – pecans are only edible the closer it gets to what looks like rotting (at least to an unlearned observer). Never eat the pecan straight from the tree when it is green – you can’t! It is tough getting into the green casing or husk. If you succeed, the nut is not mature. However, a cracked, wrinkly shell is on the verge of a real treasure.

I learned a lesson that day that I have kept with me and changed how I spend time with people. Spending time with the young as a sounding board is essential as they journey with passion and ignorance. In remembering where I was, I can value where I am and share with them. But what a treasure to spend time with those in autumn years who have perhaps mellowed some but have sweet wisdom!

Titus 2:1-8 provides instruction on that very thing – the older spending time with the younger – both learning and teaching. Consider making space this week to grab coffee with someone outside your age bracket. You may teach or learn something valuable.

Ashlie Miller is grateful to the green ones who pull her out of her routine and share their passion along with their woes as well as the ripe ones who have a sweetness to savor and wisdom to share.

Fall Beauty

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By Doug Creamer

            As a teacher at the community college, my goal is to help my students pass the reading and language arts portion of the GED test. Much of the material I knew, but some of it I had to re-learn because I had forgotten over the years. I had some great teachers in high school. I have grown to have a deeper appreciation for their deposits in my life.

            One topic we cover in class is symbolism. Writers include certain images or words because they are symbolic to the reader. In old westerns, the guys in black hats were the bad guys and the guys in white hats were the good guys. Red roses symbolize love. You get the idea.

I have been struggling with one particular symbolic interpretation. Spring is a new beginning, a fresh start. I understand that one. But why does fall have to signal the end? A character’s health is declining, and the leaves are falling off the trees. We all know that the writer is telling us the character will soon depart. Even worse, the character departs as the first snowflakes begin to fall. I think symbolism is giving fall and winter a black eye.

            I love fall. I am so glad when summer’s relentless heat finally gives way to some cooler air. When fall arrives I feel rejuvenated and enjoy being outside working in the yard. I look for ways to extend the gardening season. I have some of the best looking beans I have ever grown…please don’t tell the deer or rabbits.

            Fall is a wonderful time. I admit I don’t like putting the garden to bed. I understand that winter is coming. But there is still plenty of work to do outside, including planting flowering bulbs for next spring. I walked through a garden center today and was captivated by the aroma of pansies and violas. There is still so much to enjoy outside, especially since we don’t have to put up with the heat and humidity.

            I am anxiously waiting for the changing of the leaves. I love seeing the beauty of nature as the leaves turn such spectacular colors. Many times I have stopped and taken in the breathless beauty. I do admit that I am not too much of a fan of raking all the beautiful leaves once they fall to the ground. But walking through crunching leaves is another joy of fall.

            I know that the tasks of fall are all in preparation for winter. I don’t like the shorter days. I can also get the winter blues with the best of them. I know there are some tasks I don’t want to do: rake the leaves, clean out the gutters, clean the weeds out of the vegetable garden, and rake more leaves. But there is so much to enjoy in the cooler temperatures and the beauty of nature that I don’t want to miss. Fall, like each season, has its beauty and wonder.

            The trouble is we can’t escape the correlation between seasonal fall and the fall of our lives. I look in the mirror and realize that I am entering the fall of life. The white beard and the salt and pepper on my head are inescapable. Time is creeping…I mean speeding by. But I really don’t think we need to look at the fall of our lives in a negative way.

            With age comes wisdom. Hopefully as I age I have also escaped the mistakes and pressures of youth. I am a more seasoned person and hopefully a more seasoned Christian. I am not suggesting that I don’t make mistakes, I make plenty of them. I am suggesting that age gives us wisdom about how to handle situations, an understanding that setbacks and problems will come and go, and to savor the good things in life like friendships, love, faith, joy, and the beauty of the changing of the season.

            I want to encourage you to embrace whatever season of life this column finds you in. Youth is great because our energy seems boundless. The prime of life is sweet except it goes by so quickly. The fall of life offers us the opportunity to take in the beauty all around us. Yes, we are going to have to adjust to some changes, but don’t let them stop you from living and enjoying life. The final season, our golden years, are not reached by all of us. It’s our opportunity to treasure life and those we love. Some trees are beginning to show their color and I am choosing to watch the glory and splendor of nature each and every day.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Hope

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By Roger Barbee

Hope

            The pandemic rages across every level of world lives. Even isolated villages and towns now feel its presence. In the United States we are a few days from electing another cycle of government leaders, including a president, while European leaders try to make hard decisions to combat the virus. We are bombarded by noise that is masked as news worthy information. The editorial in our local paper today asked: “Are you tired of…?” and then went on to list many of the noises we have be subjected to during the pandemic and its affects.

Yes, we are tired, but we have quite a distance to travel. In a marathon, racers train to be able to maintain pace and form during the last 6.2 miles, the crucial last miles which begin at mile 20. Metaphorically that is where we are: Mile 20 of a marathon and where our preparation and resolve will now be tested. 

As a teacher of literature, I always chose to expose students to stories and poems and novels and plays that taught a lesson. A brief poem such as Earl carries a lesson that, once learned, will help in difficult times that we all will encounter. Like the well-trained marathoner, a well-read person will have an arsenal to call upon during tough times as now. Having digested such great literature as The Odyssey, a person can use lessons gleaned from Homer’s words to help him or her to carry on; to  “Get on with it,” as the English haberdasher told me one summer  in his store on Oxford’s Turl Street. The list of such literature is long, but sadly forgotten it seems to me. But that is another matter for another essay.

Like all people, I am tired of the turmoil and the uncertainty of this pandemic and our dithering leaders. However, a retired man of 74 living with his wife, five cats, and two hounds on Lake Norman, I have had to cope with only some inconvenience, but nothing like that of a parent with school-aged children and a job or, worse, not a job. These people are facing a difficult circumstance which I am happy not to have to navigate. But I still was reminded of the poem Ithaca by C.P. Cavafy this week because of the death of  Sean Connery and his connection with the poem, and the lesson it carries for us during the pandemic.

Sir Sean said years ago that his big break came when he was five years old, but it took him seventy years to realize that. The break he told of was that he learned to read at age five, and reading then changed his life, opened doors, gave him insight, and more. He said, “It’s the books, the reading, that can change one’s life.” 007! Bond! James Bond! He was a reader. He read newspapers, books, magazines. He devoured it all, changing his life.

I knew none of this until my wife, after reading an obituary of Sir Sean, shared some of it with me, especially the above quotation. He was a man after my heart, but I was aware of one instance of his reading and it is a fine example of literature, of reading and how that changes lives. And it is right there on the You Tube channel. Type in “Sean Connery and Ithaca” then listen to him reading the words of Cavafy. Hear the music of Cavafy’s phrases and allow their meaning to become part of your  soul. See the visuals and  hear the canned music, but most of  all allow Cavafy, through Connery’s resounding Scottish accent, assure you that the trials we face during the pandemic are just another part of a journey we face, and they, and it, too shall pass. Allow Cavafy’s lesson to give you comfort that you, like Odysseys and us all, can gain Ithaca, our safe harbor, our restful home.

Running as a Family

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By David Freeze

I always love to see families come out to races. Usually those families include 2, 3 or 4 people. But more and more, one of those tall vans with lots of seats has been arriving at the races. And when they unload, it takes a while. On and on they come, all ready to race in some form.

With kids of all sizes in the group, I’ve watched how close they all are and how helpful to each other as they get ready to hit the starting line. Lisa Burleson, runner, mom and grandmom of the group, told me why each one runs or walks. One of their first big events was the Greenway 5K back in mid-July. They have since pumped up the attendance at other races including the Run for the Word 5K in Landis and the Race to the River 5K in Spencer, both in September.

Elizabeth, 14, said, “I wanted to be in the races because doing a 5K was on my bucket list. I wanted to walk a 5K with my Papaw and I got to do just that.” Earlier she was exclusively a walker, but is now mixing in some running.

Joanna, 2, about to turn 3 and a happy fun run participant, said, “I had to do it so I can get faster and faster. I love to run in my running shirt.” She practices often.

Gideon, 11 months, has been along for the ride, pushed by his dad, Sam.

Naomi, 11, said, “When I run, I get to spend special time with my mom. I enjoy being outside in different places. Someday, I want to ride a bike to the Outer Banks.” I can help her with that.

Sam, 38, said, “I like to run to clear my head. I want to better my time. Rather than listening to music, I use the time to reflect and think.” And Sam keeps the kids often while Lisa, Hannah and Naomi run or walk the country roads around their side by side homes. He often pushes a double stroller.

Hannah, 37, said, “I am regaining strength and endurance through running. I especially enjoy running with Naomi and mom. Sam helps with our children to provide time for me.”

Lisa, 64, said, “Exercise is a great way for our family to spend time together. After taking SRR’s running class, I want to continue to increase my endurance.” Hannah, Naomi and Sam all took the class.

Rick, 67, said, “My granddaughter asked me to walk with her this summer in a 5K. I was not sure I could do it. But I made it. I plan to begin a walking regimen. I am so blessed to be a stage 4 cancer survivor.”

Another son, 6-year-old Nathaniel, has run in four fun runs already this year. Nathaniel says he is getting stronger and faster and is proud of himself for running.

In retrospect, this Burleson and McDonald combined family inspires others. Imagine the work to get this whole crowd out of bed and fed in time to drive 20 minutes and still get everyone to an 8 a.m. race in plenty of time. It takes a cohesive unit to do this. Nothing is better than that, especially with running and walking a big part of the mix.

Already, October is just around the corner. Oct. 14 has the Sacred Heart Dolphin Dash 5K and Fun Run. Then it’s double Halloween fun at the St. Matthews 5K and Fun Run, on Oct. 28, followed by the long-running Spooky Sprint 5K and Fun Run at Catawba College on the next day, Oct. 29.

And finally, if you are new to running or racing, or are starting to consider it, you’ve got great weather to give it a try. Cooler weather makes exercise and outdoor activity more fun and a little bit easier. Check www.salisburyrowanrunners.org for more races and activities.

A Refuge

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By Ed Traut

Psalms 5:11 But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you.

  • One only takes refuge when there is a storm which life so often presents to us. 
  • Always the refuge is there.  All we have to do is run to it and apply it.
  • It is God’s plan for us to have joy at all times and enjoy His protection and His love.

Prayer:  Almighty God, I do purposely take refuge in You in every circumstance.  I look to You for my strength and my help.  There is no one like You.  I bless Your holy name and thank You for Your goodness towards me.  Amen.

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Work Boots

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By Lynna Clark

Do you have a mud room? Praise God we do. It’s not real highfalutin with matching baskets and labels for where everything goes. It’s just an old closed in back porch where coats, garden gloves and muddy shoes go. Another good part is that it has a door which can close all that clutter away.


I heard the best song the other morning. Chris Tomlin along with Florida Georgia Line has a song called Forever Home. It speaks of how things will be in heaven. A line from it connected with my soul. Get ready. I’m gonna sing it for you:


“We’ll leave all of our worries just like work boots on the porch…”


What a picture! A place where all the cares of life can be dropped and forgotten as we look forward to a home cooked meal and a sweet time of rest; laughter and conversation around the table with the ones we love. No one brings up the junk of the day or the worries for tomorrow because the time together is just too sweet.


What if we could start that now?
Just as I heard that song, I “happened” to be reading in the last chapter of 1 Peter. Listen to this preview of what things could be like now.
“Casting all your cares on Him for He cares for you.” -1 Peter 5:7


Oh! What a picture of trust in the Savior! So many burdens pile on us at times. Grief and pain seem to have no end.

I can’t handle it!


But He can.


Bless the Lord!


“There ain’t no tellin’ what He’s got in store…”

Ready? Get Set

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By Ann Farabee

Walking by those words once again, I noticed how dusty that plaque had gotten. I found a tissue, and gave it a quick swipe to move the dust around a bit. The words on it read: Set your mind on things above.

Words fitly spoken from a plaque on a shelf that I pass by in my home about 50 times a day – and rarely notice.

Maybe – just maybe – this time was a reminder – to set my mind on things above.

The words were familiar – I guessed maybe from Colossians 3:23. Grabbing my Bible, I sneaked outside to the rocking chair on my front porch for a few minutes alone.

As soon as I sat down and saw all the beauty of nature around me, Psalm 46:10 began to well up in my heart. So, I did what it says: I was still. Then I knew – that He was God. The longer I was still – the more I knew.

Sitting still in that moment, I was at a place of rest in the Lord – the kind of rest that comes without even taking a nap.

A few minutes later, I turned to Colossians 3:23, with the expectation of finding the words, ‘Set your mind on things above.’ I smiled when the words in that verse, however, informed me that whatever I did, I needed to do heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.

Heartily. I did not even bother to look that word up, for no definition could be better than the one God had put in my spirit, which was, ‘with my whole heart.’

So, the words on the plaque were not from Colossians 3:23, but that verse sure felt timely.

With my Bible on my lap, I spent the next few minutes dwelling on the quietness of the Spirit of God pouring into my heart, giving me a peaceful respite during a time that had recently been far from peaceful.

Remembering my to-do list, I picked up my open Bible, and prepared to head back inside. As I did, a little breeze blew, and turned it back one page. There it was – calling out to me from Colossians 3:2, ‘Set your mind on things above.’

Some may call that a coincidence. I call it a God-incidence.

God’s Presence in our world.

God’s Presence in His Word.

God’s Presence in our hearts.

God gave His best for us. We should give our best for Him.

Lord, may we become more aware of Your Presence. Help us set our minds on things above. Amen

Ready? Get set.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

Outdoor Feast of Fall

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By Ashlie Miller

Do you have that certain itch with the recent transition to autumn – that either has you craving pumpkin spiced latte or warm apple cider, a longing for a bowl of chili and cornbread, and the desire to pull up a seat by the fire pit? Perhaps you want to slow down and spend time with friends and family, embracing the joy that comes with this season’s harvests.

Though I do not come from a Jewish background, I have learned a little about the beauty of Jewish feasts over the years as a homeschooling mom, thanks to the lovely curriculum we have found. We are entering the season of Sukkot, or the Festival of Booths. This marvelous feast is celebrated annually as part of the harvest season outdoors in temporary booths or shelters. During this time of feasting, participants may reflect on the many years their ancestors traveled through the desert and rejoice at God’s provision through that time. While I do not know how closely that relates to our American Thanksgiving, it certainly stirs those feelings in me.

How lovely it must be (and must have been) to regularly join together to feast on the bounty of God’s provision while celebrating with family and friends outside, sharing food. How lovely it can be for us, in this harvest season, to also slow down and invite friends, family, and neighbors to our backyards to savor the goodness of comforting foods and encouraging conversations accompanied by the smells, sights, and other delights only provided in the great outdoors.

I have great memories of times around many campfires either at a campground, on a church property, or in the backyards of friends. I can recall testimonies shared by my elders and being captivated by their stories – some silly and some serious, but both significant to who they have become. I even recall weeping and tears around many campfires – tears of sorrow over sins and tears of joy over victories.

I miss those days, and I hope to reclaim them. We are in such a hurried age of tremendous disconnect despite the personal devices (and vices) that should make us more connected with other people. Does this generation know these simple joys of slowing down, sharing our life stories, and feasting on small, even unimpressive meals – like a bowl of chili – that can provide great comfort and hope? Will it be lost on us? It will if we do not take the initiative.

Stories of God’s faithfulness in the lives of people I know have always encouraged me. Hearing them in intimate places like a backyard campfire makes them unforgettable. Who will help reclaim this joy and share their backyards as a temporary booth for feasting and remembrance to create a permanent place of hope and care?

Ashlie Miller is a pastor’s wife to Chad and a mother of five in Concord, NC. Share your campfire stories with her at ashliemiller.com.

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