Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

 Very good

Recipes? Where do you keep yours? Only in your mind? Or do you have a recipe box or recipe drawer or recipe book? I have all those!

In the 1960’s when I was growing up, our kitchen in our mill house was loaded with cabinets and drawers. My favorite was the recipe drawer.

My dad cooked a lot, but he was not a believer in recipes. He just kept tasting what he was cooking to see if it met his expectations. If not, he added something – I think he referred to it as a little bit of this and a little bit of that.

Does anyone remember a grease can?

Yes, he had one where he saved grease for the next scrumptious delicacy he prepared.

Making gravy was his specialty.

I am fairly certain we had gravy most days.

No special food was necessary to put the gravy on – any food would work.

Potatoes and gravy.

Meat and gravy.

Eggs and gravy.

You get the idea.

Cook it – put some gravy on it.

I have saved quite a few recipes, and I have a recipe box that definitely includes some memorabilia.

Recipes were written down – often in different places:

*Carolina Special Convention -Jamestown NC notepad

*Tithing envelope from church

*Cannon Mills note pads -Daily Cutting Production- from the Dye Department- in my mom or dad’s handwriting

*Note cards

*White’s Office Supplies note pad

*Post-its

*On the back of a bill from the Animal Hospital is a recipe for a casserole and a great dessert

*Index cards with recipes from coworkers, churchgoers, and friends

Some are in my handwriting, my mother’s handwriting, my mother in laws handwriting, my sister’s handwriting, and in the handwriting of my coworkers, and friends.

Some of the recipe cards were official since they were cut off the back of a box of food.

That recipe box! It holds more memories than it holds recipes!

The additions to the recipe box continue even today.

I did not know it at the time, but not only was I getting recipes, I was also making memories.

Even today, my adult children ask to look at my recipes.

We must admit – food is very good!

To me – the recipe matters.

The recipes came from coworkers, family members, and church friends.

So, when the recipe card is given, it also includes the name of the one who took the time to write it on a card for me. The recipe box has become worn and torn, but so have I!

It sure holds great memories – and great recipes!

My mother saved her recipes in the 3rd drawer in the kitchen.

I save my recipes in a box in the cabinet.

A few weeks ago, my adult daughter asked me if she could have my recipe box when I died. It made me smile. I had asked my mother the same thing.

My daughter really did not have to ask me that. It would have gone to her anyway.

Food is a gift from God. It strengthens our body, nourishes us, brings people around a table to eat together, and it gives us happiness.

Food is mentioned in the first chapter in the Bible in Genesis 1:29-30. It says, “Then God said, I have given you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the earth and every tree has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to every beast of the earth and to every fowl of the air, and everything that creeps on the earth, where there is life, I have given every green herb for meat; and it was so.”

Remember this account about food in the Bible? If you ever went to Sunday School, you probably heard it there –

Jesus had a recipe to share with 5000 people:

He took five loaves and two fishes. He looked up to heaven.

He blessed it.

He broke it.

He gave the loaves to his disciples.

The disciples gave it to the multitude.

They ate. They were full.

Jesus  multiplied it – and it was enough.

Genesis 1:31 says that God saw everything He had made and it was VERY GOOD.

No matter what we give to Jesus – time, talent, treasure – He can multiply it!

And He has the recipe to make it VERY GOOD!

By Ann Farabee

Serving Matters

In some ways, I believe serving students in the college cafeteria while attending Gardner Webb AND serving customers at the Pizza Inn while attending UNC Charlotte, seem to have been almost as educational as the college courses I was taking at the time.

While serving my peers in the college cafeteria, I said things like, “Pizza or taco?” Yes, I was on the serving line with my hair net on, saying the choice of food over and over to people who mostly never looked at me, because they were studying the food choices in front of them. I did not mind feeling invisible. Food is something I understood.“Potatoes? Beans?” I would continue. It was my daily dinner routine as I worked my way through college. I was there to serve! Serving mattered!

When it came to my other job at Pizza Inn, the entire scenario changed. Three days out of seven, I would work from 4pm until 4am, drive back to my dorm and sleep until time for class. Other than the tired feet, I thought it was remarkable being a waitress! I think I would have loved making a living at it! I got to be super nice to people who were there to enjoy pizza. The nicer and more competent I was, the happier the customers were! The happier the customers were, the more money I made. That pretty much summed it up! Serving mattered!

Then, there was the job at McDonalds, where I could get off work around 2am. I loved nothing more than using a cash register and counting back change to customers. As the night ended, the managers checked our registers and mine always returned monetarily perfect! I was quite proud of that since this was in the days before the register told you how much change to give back to the customer. Maybe that is a reason I became a math teacher?

Mostly though, I liked to serve. Adding the perfect scoop of potatoes to the tray in the cafeteria, handing over the perfectly cooked slice of pizza at the Pizza Inn, or making sure the Big Mac handed to a customer was wrapped properly, bagged beautifully, and not smushed – was my mission.

I must admit – I enjoyed it!

I liked interacting with people to get something they wanted to them – and for it to be just right!

My favorite times were the busy times, when there were four lines of customers across the front of the store at McDonalds.Working as hard as I could, I would move quickly and and efficiently to make sure every customer was happy.

However, no job beat working in Cannon Mills where I worked 8 hours a night during the summer on a very loud Twister machine in Number 7 Spin. It was non-stop, but during those hours, my dreams for my life were formed, while the rest of Kannapolis was sleeping. It was so loud that I could talk, sing, and pray at the top of my lungs and no one could hear me. I talked to Jesus. I sang to Jesus. I memorized the words of Jesus and carried prayer requests and Bible verses in my pockets as I walked around the twister machines all night long, while wearing my required ear plugs. What seemed redundant to my coworkers was life-changing for me – because I spent those nights walking around my three huge, loud machines while seeking God. What a great education I received staying up all night with Jesus!

Not long after that, I finished college and became a teacher. One day, as I was walking around my classroom helping students, I realized that I was still carrying Bible verses on a post-it in my pocket every day. If I did not have a pocket, I would put them on my desk.

Those experiences are a huge part of how I became me. Those years were formative, which means they served to form me, which means they had a profound and lasting influence on my development.

It actually made me smile to type this:

I believe I was a great McDonald’s worker.

I believe I was a great Cannon Mills worker.

I believe I was a great teacher.

I loved it all!

NO! Of course I was not paid enough at any of those jobs.

But – I was there to serve.

Serving matters.

By Ann Farabee

Stop Running!

There have been a lot of messages preached about Jonah! There have been a lot of lessons taught about Jonah. Sometimes, we need both.

Can one seek God and run away from God at the same time?

The issue was that in order to get to God, Jonah had to stop running from God.

It sounds so simple, but yet, throughout my life, I have heard many people say they have been running from God for years.

 I know one thing – we can never outrun God because we are on God’s heart,  in God’s thoughts, and created by God – so we will not get too far away before He snatches us back.

Running from God?

Stop running.

We cannot walk away, slip away, or sneak away from God.

Stop trying.

It sure did not work for Jonah.

He did not pray for three days.

He had a bad attitude.

He was rebellious.

He was about to be swallowed by the whale!

Now, even for animal lovers, that sounds a bit tough.

After seeing a whale close up one time, I most certainly now feel a connection with what Jonah may have felt like at that point. Whales are HUGE!

Feel free to take out the word Jonah in the title and insert your own name!

That Jonah –

That Ann Farabee-

She tried but could never outrun God.

God loved and forgave her no matter what!

Jonah ran the opposite direction from God .

Ann ran the opposite direction from God.

God guided Jonah anyway.

God guided Ann anyway.

Jonah was supposed to serve God by preaching to the people of Nineveh – but he was  indifferent and angry about it.

Ann was supposed to serve God in ways that God showed her – but  she was indifferent and  busy doing other things.

Even though Jonah stopped his mission, God showed him great love, patience, and forgiveness.

Even though Ann seemed indifferent to her mission, God shows her love, patience, and forgiveness.

God removes our shame.

God covers us with grace.

Picture that for a second –

God Himself removing our shame –

SHAME REMOVED!

God Himself covering us with grace –

COVERED WITH GRACE!

Ready? Let’s practice!

Declare these words –

SHAME REMOVED!  (Cast that shame away!)

COVERED WITH GRACE! (Close your eyes. Envision God covering you with grace!)

A little louder:

SHAME REMOVED!

COVERED WITH GRACE!

Got it?

We sure do.

By Ann Farabee

Having a moment?

It is that split second in time when you remember something or someone that sweeps your daily thoughts away, and replaces them with the emotions that one feels of something that was long ago or something that is a moment that will never really go away. 

I call it having a moment.

I call it having a memory.

When my son was three years old, we somehow left after a week at the beach without bringing Curious George back home with us. We are certain we accidentally left him sleeping in the bed. Yes, the stuffed monkey did not return. Phone calls to the motel we had stayed at brought no results.

 Curious George was gone forever. We bought another, but the outfit had slightly changed, and there was no fooling my little boy. We could have placed 50 stuffed animals on his bed, but he only would have wanted HIS Curious George.

Poor us. My child could not sleep without Curious George; therefore it took both parents in the bed with him to make sleep possible.  As many are aware, three in a bed can get a bit tight.

Eventually, after a lengthy period of grief and trying out several similar Curious George’s that just were NOT the same, I suppose our lives returned to normalcy. 

Somewhat. Except sometimes – I still have a moment.

Silly, right? My child slept cuddling with George every night.

There was nothing silly about it.

Thankfully, the story ended with us finding a very very very similar Curious George who arrived in the mail for him from the motel?? (Wink. Wink.) More than thirty years later, my son told me that he did not figure out at first that it was not the original George until later when became an adult.

Family beach trip. Stuffed animal goes missing. Yes, I began writing about this experience after having a ‘moment’ where I remembered going through it with my family as we grieved the loss and celebrated the fake recovery and joy of Curious George coming home.

A few years later, I noticed Curious George was no longer in my son’s bed each morning, and one day I realized George had gone to live in the closet.

Even though Curious George 2 replaced Curious George 1 – it was never the same. Curious George 2 never slept in the bed, but stayed 24 hours a day on the toy shelf.

Then later, he chose to go live in the attic.

Or perhaps that decision was made while my son was at school – and we, as parents, had noticed George no longer was given any attention.

That is the end of the story.

Everyone forgot about it.

Well – sort of.

Except for when I have a moment.

God, my Creator, brings moments and memories to my mind for many reasons, some of which are for my pleasure. I can envision my little boy holding Curious George in his arms, walking around the house with him, laying Curious George on his pillow beside him each night as he prayed for George, for me, and for others. Any moment that brings a memory like that to your mind is a gift from God.

Now – years later – I still have my moments.

Yes, Curious George is rarely in those moments.

But – he sure was today as I wrote these words.

I was thankful.

I believe sleep came easier for my young child those nights with Curious George beside him.

I believe I slept better those nights, too.

The most beautiful things in life are not just things –

They are also moments and memories.

Our moments and memories are like a diary we carry around with us.

Enjoy them.

Let me know how your memories go –

By Ann Farabee

MORE

Happy New Year!

We all say it.

We all hope for it.

As one year ends and another begins, we tend to take a look back and also take a look forward to our future.

No matter what we are or no matter where we are, God has more in store for us.

A career in education left me acknowledging and celebrating pretty much every special occasion listed on a calendar, along with student birthdays. Special days were always talked about within my classroom, and were also celebrated whenever and however possible. My intake of cupcakes with my students to celebrate events was quite large – and quite enjoyable.

The special days in life are often anticipated far ahead of time and celebrated to a great degree.

The older I get, special occasions still rise to the top of my list. The New Year has never been a favorite, because it mostly has reminded me that Christmas is over and it is time to get back to work. Also, the requirement to stay up until past 12am has never been of interest to me, other than the year 2000, when we all waited up to see if the world was going to end.

I have always had friends who insist that we all pick a WORD for the new year.

Last year, my word was REST.

Of course that was a failure. I did not rest. I tried out the concept the first weekend, and even tried to take a nap, but it did not happen. Napping, apparently, is not a concept I understand.

So, I am giving the concept of a word for the year one more chance.

 My word for 2025 is MORE.

That is because there is MORE in store for us:

Look back –  to where God brought you from.

Look ahead  – to what God will do for you.

Look within – to who you really are.

Look up – to who God really is.

God supplies bread for our daily needs, forgiveness for our daily sins, and strength for our daily burdens. What a mighty God we serve!

Lord, help us in every circumstance to be content with that which comes every day from Your Merciful Hand.

My MORE in 2025 is to trust Jesus MORE!

To do MORE for Jesus!

To be MORE for Jesus!

Will you join me?

 For we are MORE than conquerors through HIM that loves us!

Let me know your word for 2025 at annfarabee@gmail.com.

By Ann Farabee

See the lights!

Admittedly, I am sometimes a bit Scrooge-like when it comes to Christmas events. But something about having a one and a two year old in the mix mellows me a bit.

Out of nowhere came the idea from someone in the house, “Let’s go to downtown Kannapolis and see the lights!” It was from my son and his family, which includes the one and two year old. Had it not been for them, my response may have been a no, because it was time to watch Gunsmoke. The deciding factor was that even at 7pm, the temperature was sixty degrees, so I knew I could handle it.

My memories of seeing Christmas lights go WAY back to when I was a child and my parents, brother, sister, and I would ride around in the car looking for decorated houses. When we saw one, we would all roll our windows down, so we could see them a little better. (I assume everyone knows the meaning of ‘roll’ your windows down.)

It seems that the older I get, perhaps I have already seen the Christmas lights annually, but I know the truth. I need to see them every year through the eyes of my children and my grandchildren, as many years as they will allow me to do so..

Here is how it went:

One of the babies was in his Christmas pajamas. The other one was dressed in an Elf costume. I was dressed warmly, as a grandma should be.

But the story was about the lights! Our parking spot was not especially close, so as we walked, our little ones saw the lights grow brighter and brighter. So did the rest of the family.

Have you ever noticed the twinkle in the eyes of a child looking at Christmas lights?

The younger one ran toward them with no filter at all in his mind, and tried to grab and feel each light within his reach. That was when I saw the lights sparkling in his eyes. That sure can give a grown up a renewed love for the joy of Christmas.

Yes, children brighten Christmas, but the brightest light of Christmas is the Light of the World, Jesus, who was born in a manger, and visited by Wise Men, who saw the star,

Matthew 2:1-2 tells us that the wise men saw the star in the east and came to worship Jesus.

THEY SAW THE LIGHTS! What an incredible experience! It is an experience that we can have ourselves – the experience of worshipping our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

The Wise Men had been looking for Jesus!

They found Jesus!

They worshipped Jesus!

May I never take the opportunity to worship Jesus for granted.

May I never fail to worship because I do not feel like it.

May I never fail to worship for any reason.

My God SO LOVED the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever (that is us) believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

Jesus, thank YOU for coming to Earth as a as a child, so that YOU could live among us and die for US, so that we could be saved and be in heaven with You one day. We could never understand Your amazing love.

Lord, may we see and experience the Light of the World this Christmas season.

Thank You for the gift of Your Son, through which we can receive eternal life!

By Ann Farabee

The Depth of Salvation

Salvation is simple – but deep.

The words were words from my pastor, but I took them home with me.

I began to remember the night I accepted Christ into my heart.

I let go of the back of the pew in front of me – and took the first step.

Walking nervously down the aisle, my tears began to flow and I fell to my knees at the altar. Jesus was doing a work in my heart.

The preacher called it an altar call. I called it a life changer.

At age 13, the Holy Spirit was ministering to my heart and I accepted Jesus.

Surrounding me was hand clapping and cries of  “Amen,” and “Praise God,” coming from those in the congregation. 

 That night when I went to bed, I pulled the covers up over me tightly, and felt a deep spiritual moment in time that I still remember. Jesus was right there. I could talk to Him in whispers or I could think a prayer in my mind, and Jesus could hear it. Relief and joy came along with having a friend named Jesus who would walk with me and talk with me and tell me I am His own. Oh the joy we shared as we tarried there, none other has ever known. Jesus was mine. I was His.

It almost seems simple. I guess God made it simple enough that simple people like me could understand it. But at the same time, the depth of what I had experienced seemed way beyond simple. Nothing or no one is bigger than God! The Resurrection of Jesus as He burst forth from the grave to give us victory over death was the greatest event in the history of the world!

Because of my relationship with Jesus, I began to feel that I was no longer a nobody, but I was a somebody. I was a child of God.

It is amazing how much of that Sunday night, October 15, 1967, that I can still recall.

The words of this song are what I heard as I walked down the aisle:

Just as I am without one plea

But that Thy blood was shed for me

And that thou bidd’st me come to Thee

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

My legs were shaking as I took those steps to kneel at the altar, but it was easier walking down the aisle than it had been standing there holding on to the pew.

When that dear lady, that I have no idea who she was, prayed with me and said Amen, we then stood up and hugged, as she said, “You don’t have to go to hell now.” It was a comment that has stayed with me forever and I sure am glad she said it.

Salvation is the deepest, richest, strongest, and most profound experience anyone could ever have – and Jesus wants to give it to us freely. He paid the price. He loved us enough to die for us.

Salvation still works.

Salvation is still God’s plan for the young and for the old and for all in between.

Anyone who has accepted Christ has the same advocate fighting for them throughout battles of life that I do. Salvation flows deeply, forever in our minds, our hearts, and our spirits. It brings us rivers of joy.

Need Jesus?

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life. John 3:16

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will  be saved. Acts 16:31

By grace are we saved through faith, and not of ourselves. It is the gift of God. Ephesians 2:8

Jesus is the Son of God.

He died for our sins, and rose again so that we could have eternal life.

Pray. Accept Him into your heart.

Salvation is the key.

Jesus is the door.

By Ann Farabee

Not my marble

It was the most beautiful marble I had ever owned. I guess that was why I slipped it into the pocket of my dress that day and took it to school with me one day when in 2nd grade. Maybe I would get a chance to show that boy in my class that sat beside me that I had a prettier marble than anyone in the class. Yes, everyone brought marbles to school that year. it was a beautiful swirl of blue, green, and yellow. That boy I liked that sat beside of me would certainly be impressed.

Here is how it happened:

We were doing independent work. That means no talking and the teacher sits at her desk. It was a safe time to show that boy I liked my blue, yellow, and green swirly marble.

I pulled it out of my pocket and it rolled right out of there onto the floor and right over to a spot under his desk. It sure did make a loud noise on that wooden floor, but I made sure to act like I never even knew about it.

That teacher’s voice spoke, as she stood right at my desk, “Whose marble is that?”

I froze.

That mean boy beside me smiled and said, “Ann’s.”

Tattletale.

He reached down, picked it up, handed it to the teacher, and gave me a big smirk.

He was happy because I had never ever been in such big trouble.

The teacher said, “Ann, is that your marble?”

“No,” I said in a shaky voice.

She took it with her and I heard a big clank as she placed it in the drawer of her desk.

In the time that was left in our school day, my thoughts were, “I am in BIG trouble. What is she going to do to me? Will she tell my parents? Will I have to go to the office? Will I get a paddling? What will happen to me?”

Being in trouble was new to me, and I expected the worst.

After an excruciatingly long afternoon, the bell rang, and we all began to exit.

 I tried to be invisible, but my teacher stopped me.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out that marble, and handed it back to me.

I had just been a recipient of grace.

What I had considered an unpardonable sin had been forgiven and I was restored.

Except for the memory   

However, as I write this, I remember not only the grace, but I also remember my lie.

It was a lie that she knew was a lie.

I wonder if that lie made her no longer trust me? I hope not.

It was a marble. Marbles were not allowed at school.

But – she taught me one of life’s greatest lessons that day- it was grace.

Grace is often described as unmerited favor.

I did not deserve the grace she showed by privately giving me my marble back.

But – she gave it to me anyway.

A kid bringing a marble to school without permission – not a big deal, right?

But somehow, it is now not only one of my earliest memories, but it was also an early lesson learned in life as my teacher’s example of grace was poured into my life.

I wish I could tell her now how much that one experience in life taught me, so I believe I will try it this way, “Thank you, Mrs. Hagler, my 2nd grade teacher at Woodrow Wilson School, for not only teaching me the curriculum, but also for teaching me about grace.

By Ann Farabee

See the lights!

Admittedly, I am sometimes a bit Scrooge-like when it comes to Christmas events. But something about having a one and a two year old in the mix mellows me a bit.

Out of nowhere came the idea from someone in the house, “Let’s go to downtown Kannapolis and see the lights!” It was from my son and his family, which includes the one and two year old. Had it not been for them, my response may have been a no, because it was time to watch Gunsmoke. The deciding factor was that even at 7pm, the temperature was sixty degrees, so I knew I could handle it.

My memories of seeing Christmas lights go WAY back to when I was a child and my parents, brother, sister, and I would ride around in the car looking for decorated houses. When we saw one, we would all roll our windows down, so we could see them a little better. (I assume everyone knows the meaning of ‘roll’ your windows down.)

It seems that the older I get, perhaps I have already seen the Christmas lights annually, but I know the truth. I need to see them every year through the eyes of my children and my grandchildren, as many years as they will allow me to do so..

Here is how it went:

One of the babies was in his Christmas pajamas. The other one was dressed in an Elf costume. I was dressed warmly, as a grandma should be.

But the story was about the lights! Our parking spot was not especially close, so as we walked, our little ones saw the lights grow brighter and brighter. So did the rest of the family.

Have you ever noticed the twinkle in the eyes of a child looking at Christmas lights?

The younger one ran toward them with no filter at all in his mind, and tried to grab and feel each light within his reach. That was when I saw the lights sparkling in his eyes. That sure can give a grown up a renewed love for the joy of Christmas.

Yes, children brighten Christmas, but the brightest light of Christmas is the Light of the World, Jesus, who was born in a manger, and visited by Wise Men, who saw the star,

Matthew 2:1-2 tells us that the wise men saw the star in the east and came to worship Jesus.

THEY SAW THE LIGHTS! What an incredible experience! It is an experience that we can have ourselves – the experience of worshipping our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

The Wise Men had been looking for Jesus!

They found Jesus!

They worshipped Jesus!

May I never take the opportunity to worship Jesus for granted.

May I never fail to worship because I do not feel like it.

May I never fail to worship for any reason.

My God SO LOVED the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever (that is us) believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

Jesus, thank YOU for coming to Earth as a as a child, so that YOU could live among us and die for US, so that we could be saved and be in heaven with You one day. We could never understand Your amazing love.

Lord, may we see and experience the Light of the World this Christmas season.

Thank You for the gift of Your Son, through which we can receive eternal life!