Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

The first graders shut their eyes, folded their hands prayerfully, and began to pray, “Our Father, Which art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name…”

This was easily recognizable as a prayer and a spiritual moment, until one student could not contain her laughter. Everyone stopped and looked as she exclaimed, “God’s name is not Halloween!”

Oh, she may have heard — and repeated — the prayer before, but this time the word “hallowed” had obviously impacted her. Sometimes, spoken words can become repetitious and the meaning may become lost — or as in this case — the meaning was unknown.

The Lord’s Prayer is a prayer Jesus taught his disciples and one we can use as a pattern for our prayers. The words prayed are words of praise for God, of prayer for God’s work in the world, and are requests for our needs and for help with our struggles.

Our Father: Not just my Father, but our Father. He is ruler and He is majestic.

Our Creator. He loves us with a personal love — the love of a father and of a Savior.

Which art: Not just was, not just is or not just will be. He is all three.

In heaven: He is in heaven — but hears us on earth.

Hallowed by thy name: His name is Holy. Recognize His holiness. Praise Him and be aware of His Presence.

Thy Kingdom come: God has set eternity in our hearts. There is a longing in our heart to be with our Father.

Thy will be done in Earth: God’s reign in Earth is in the believer’s heart. His will in us. God’s perfect purpose.

As it is in heaven: God’s spiritual reign when evil is destroyed and a new heaven and earth is here.

Give us this day our daily bread: God sustains and provides.

And forgive us our trespasses: God forgives. As we forgive those who trespass against us: We are to forgive.

And lead us not into temptation: He will protect us. He will strengthen us.

But deliver us from evil: He will deliver us.

For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever: He is sovereign. He is all powerful. He deserves the glory — forever.

Amen. Say it, pray it, live it and love it.

By Ann Farabee

Coach Watts

Yes, that is what we called him – Coach Watts. Most just called him Coach.

But never – ever – have I heard him referred to as Mr. Watts. 

He was Coach.

My first interaction with him was in my freshman year of high school. I was slightly frightened. I had to take PE and Coach Watts was one of  the PE teachers. I worked diligently to stay hidden during PE. It was a large group, so I tried to hide behind other people, and since I am short, it was not that hard to do. I considered trying to stay hidden a form of exercise. He must have, too, because I made an A.

 I am sure Coach Watts was aware of what I was doing, especially since I was the shortest one in the class and I could not even see from the back of the gym. But he always responded with that slight grin. I knew that grin meant, “I know what you are doing and it is okay.”

 Sometimes, he had all these great stations set up in the gym for students to go to, and many in the class ran to them excitedly. I found out that if I walked slowly toward the stations and kept sliding to the back of the line and letting others in front of me, I did not have to do anything. I perfected that strategy, along with a couple of my non-athletic friends. Once again, he would take a look in our direction and smile, letting us know he knew we were there and we wanted to be left alone.

 Then, when it was time to take four laps around the gym, I melted into my group of  peers, who stopped at three laps, which coincided with when the athletic kids were finishing four laps. He knew and gave us that smile, letting us know that it was okay. I am sure he did not want us to pass out from exhaustion.

 But my best memory of Coach Watts was in the car with a Driver’s Education logo on top. It was his chore to teach me to drive. Someone had to do it, I guess.

 Every day for two weeks, he had to drag three pillows out of the trunk of his car for me to sit on, so I could reach the steering wheel and see out the car window. The other two students could see out the window without the aid of pillows. They had also previously sat behind the wheel before with the permission of their parents, which shocked me, because that was against the law. Not me, buddy.

Every day as Coach got out the pillows, stacked them up, and helped me climb up on them so I could reach the steering wheel, his grin got a little bigger. Perhaps that was because he was getting closer to being finished teaching me to drive.

 I admit it. I was fearful of driving. I followed the driving rules to a tee. If the speed was 35, I made sure I went 30. If I knew a turn signal would be required soon, I turned it on two blocks ahead and began to slow down. If there had been a driving certificate for being cautious, I most certainly would have deserved it. Perhaps there was a reason Coach kept smiling and saying these words to me that I still remember today, “If you don’t speed up a little, someone is going to run over you.”

 Funny how one comment will stick with you. I still think about that sometimes when I am driving and someone is about to run over me.

 In a way, the comment also works in life. I definitely began to speed up a little as far as life is concerned.

 Coach Watts, I enjoyed writing down these memories of you!  I wish I knew how many people took Driver’s Ed with you. I am fairly certain you smiled as they learned to drive, too! You were the best!

 By the way, I have had a perfect driving record for the last 50+ years. 

And so far – no one has run over me.

 I am thankful for the man you were, the life you led, and the legacy you left behind!

 I am sure our entire community is thankful!

 You were one of a kind!

 Thanks Coach!

By Ann Farabee

On July 4, 2015 – a little over four years ago -I remember standing on a balcony overlooking the ocean – well, sort of overlooking the ocean – if I leaned forward and peeked between the two buildings across the street and squinted a bit.  Fireworks were scheduled for later that day, obviously because it would be the anniversary date of my first column, The Children, published in the Salisbury Post.

Not only my column, but my picture was there, as well. Yes, one day I had been asked to send in a headshot for them to use. I felt like a professional.

It was good to get away on that beach trip, although I have learned that vacation does not free one’s mind from the struggles and issues in life. Only Jesus can do that.

But, on that day, I remember being so excited, standing on that balcony thinking about my column being in print. Yes, I was a columnist!

After it was published, I was hooked.

Sharing my heart with you – my readers – over and over – week after week – is amazing!

I have written about love, life, addiction, prison,  fruit, brokenness, school, darkness, heartburn, the pledge, dessert, encouragement, death, holidays, emotions, popcorn, refrigerators, family, armor, beauty, waiting rooms, but God. And… those are just a few of my columns.

I feel like I know you personally. Isn’t that strange? Most of you I don’t, but somehow through the power of words, I do.

As I sit with my laptop, my Bible, my pencil, my notebook – and if it’s early morning – a cup of coffee – I often pray, “Lord, I know You gave me these words for someone. May they be  encouraged by them.”

You – my readers –  are always in my thoughts as I write – and sharing with you strengthens – and sometimes – heals – my heart.

I pray for my readers every day – all of you. And for those who have sent requests through email or have told me in person, I have not forgotten.

For you all, I am so thankful. I love meeting you. I love reading your emails. I love your encouragement. I love to encourage you.

An email I received this week says it best:

When the newspaper arrives, I sit down with it and a cup of coffee, and am ready to see what my friend has to say about life and living. We may have never met, but reading your column makes me feel that we are friends.

Isn’t that what friends are for? Going through life together? Sharing our hearts? Going through the good – and the bad – together?  Solomon said in Proverbs 25:11 that words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in pictures of silver. 

Words from a friend can make a world of difference – thank you for your words to me – and it is my prayer that my words to you be fitly spoken.

Most of you, I do not know. We are yet to meet. But I call you friend.

*If you see me, tell me who you are. I’ll be the one that looks 4 years older than my headshot.

*And, for those who watch my video, you will probably recognize me immediately when you see me!

*See you next week, my friends!

*Happy 4th Friendiversary to us!

Feeding Our Flock?

By Ann Farabee

It brought me to a complete standstill. I looked up. A flock of birds flew overhead. How do they do that? Every move was in complete sync. I immediately gave credit to the prowess of their leader.

But… guess what? I found out that the birds actually take turns being the leader, and being the leader has no obvious benefits.

When a flock of birds is flying together in the V-formation, they are able to take advantage of the aerodynamic effects of flying behind one another – getting strength and energy from the wings of the preceding bird. It is more important that a bird fly in the right place than that he fly at the right time. They are cooperative and work together.

​When birds are part of a flock, it makes it easier to feed, to nest, and to escape predators.

1 Peter 5:2-3 says to feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind. Neither as lords over God’s heritage, but as an example to our flock.

These verses are used to describe leaders of the church, but cannot be overlooked by anyone that is leading someone somewhere somehow sometime. That is all of us!

It is those who walk through life with us, work with us, and worship with us.

How are we to feed our flock?

* Feed the flock of God which is among you. This means we are to have three meals a day ready at the appropriate time. (Just kidding. I wanted to see if you were paying attention.) To ‘feed the flock’ is not a command, but it is about encouraging and building up those we see and spend time with in our daily lives.

* Taking the oversight of. To ‘take oversight of’ means to lead. We lead by showing others the way to a destination as we go in front or beside of them while moving forward.

* Not by constraint but willingly. To feed the flock willingly means that you serve eagerly – not out of obligation.

* Not for filthy lucre. That means you don’t do it for money or in a dishonorable or dishonest way. You do it for the right reasons.

* But of a ready mind. That part speaks for itself. Have our minds ready!

*Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being examples to the flock. As leaders feeding our flock – those among us – we all need to be examples.

Even when doing good and important things for our flock – we sometimes fail to do it the way 1 Peter 5:2-3 instructs us to.

So even if our flock often feels more like a gaggle of geese, a herd of goats, or a covert of coots, we all need to flock around our flock – feeding them daily.

How about the benefits? That is in the next verse 1 Peter 5:4. It says that when the chief Shepherd shall appear, we shall receive a crown of glory that fades not away.

By Ann Farabee

Rest? That short four letter word sure can be elusive.

My favorite definition of rest is to cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or to recover strength.  Most any definition that includes the words relax, refresh, and recover is a word I want to include in my vocabulary and in my life. Rest is significant in the Bible as it is found over 250 times.

Many of my readers are aware that there are four of us living in our home – two almost adult grandsons, my husband, and me. At any given moment in any given day, there is the likelihood that there would be others in our home, as well. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. People hanging out together from a barely walking infant to a barely walking 70-ish year old. That was a joke – Charles exercises every day.  We have bonus family, too, who are the students I tutor in my home.

What a great life! Family is around often, and I also still get to be around my students, even though I am retired.

No matter how hard I work every day, if I am at home, I am at rest.

I do not count work done at home as being work.

Being home feels like being at rest – in spite of the work that has to be done.

It is home because it is the place I am most comfortable.

There are a couple of chairs in my home that I think each person understands are my chairs..

There is a blanket that is taken from room to room, but only belongs to me.

No one would even think about using my pillow. One year I decided that I was going to buy myself a really good pillow, and I have had no regrets, and I dare say that no one else has ever laid their head on it.

Even though I share my home with family, there are some things that belong just to me.

That pillow. That footrest. Those bedroom shoes. The flannels. The chair. My place at the table. Even if a storm cloud is hanging over my life, if I am in one of my spots, I am at peace.

Because – I am at home.

I can cuddle up beside anyone who lives there.

I can be myself in every way.

I can be at rest – even when I am busy.

Maybe that is why Dorothy tapped her heels together 3 times and dreamed of home as she said, “There is no place like home.”

But – the rest we can attain at home – is in no way comparable with the rest we can attain in God’s Presence.

One recent Sunday afternoon, I laid down for a minute. Yes, just for a minute. 

I knew it was too late to take a nap, so I was just going to rest. No one else was around, but when I closed my eyes, I felt a mighty wind enter the room. It was rest of a different kind – it was the kind of rest that only the Holy Spirit can send our way. With my eyes closed, Jesus came to my mind, and I began to focus only on Him.The wind blew – not the wind outside my window – but the wind in my soul. How can it be a mighty rushing wind and it come in like a soft whisper to my soul? I was at rest in the presence of God. I never went to sleep, but my mind, body, and spirit was at rest. My focus was only on the presence of the Holy Spirit living within me – speaking tenderly to my heart in that quiet moment of the peace of God within me.

Quiet moments? We sure do need them.

Matthew 11:28 says this:

Come unto me, all you who are weary and burdened. I will give you rest.

Ready? Set? Rest.

By Ann Farabee

We purchased our tickets.

We looked up the ramp toward the door.

It may have been a wooden ramp beneath my feet – but it felt solid as a rock.

It was leading up to the Big Boat – Noah’s Ark in Williamstown, Kentucky.

The door to the ark was open.

An ark is defined as a vessel or sanctuary that provides safety and protection. Noah built an ark as directed by God, in order to provide protection and safety from the flood God sent to cover the earth. The ARK lived up to its meaning!

During our visit to the Ark, the story of Noah’s Ark went from a story in the Bible to a story in the Bible that came to life. My words to my family as we walked through were mostly, “Look at that! Look at this!”

If you visit the Ark, I recommend asking the Holy Spirit to allow it to be a spiritual experience. I am certain it is much better when the Holy Spirit guides you through, as you will see a new revelation in each scene. I had read about it in God’s Word and felt it in my spirit, but now someone had given it life in the form of a lifelike walk-through on Noah’s Ark in Kentucky.

The wooden frame may have seemed a bit dark and dull,  but the experience was illuminating and illustrious. I was in a place made by man to give others a starting point for internalizing the magnitude of Noah’s Ark and also the magnitude of the purpose of Noah’s Ark. I chose to experience it with my heart more than with my eyes, although my eyes certainly were given a feast.

Noah did what God told him to do.

Then God shut the door.

The rain covered the earth.

In those rain clouds, the storm met the sun.

The rain ended.

Everyone began to look up – to see the rainbow.

It was a promise from God for a new beginning.

Everyone had a chance to accept the promise that was to come. They had seen Noah building the big boat for 40 years and they knew what he was up to – but yet – most chose not to believe God’s man. Or maybe they did believe – but they just thought they would get on board closer to the time the ark would be put to use – not knowing when God would actually be closing the door. They assumed there would be more time – perhaps one last second chance.                                                     

Only those who took that step and went through the door into the ark received the promise. Had they not taken that step and gone through the door, they never would have seen the rainbow. They never would have seen the promise.

Would I even have gotten on the ark?

Hmm? Noah spent years building it.

I hope I would have.

While visiting the Ark in Kentucky, it became much more than a story.

It became a choice.

It is our choice to get on the ark of safety given to us by God – before the door is closed.

I only had to look to page 18 in my Bible to read this beautiful story of God’s love:

Genesis 8:1 – God remembered Noah.

Genesis 8:18 – And Noah went forth.

Genesis 9:13 – God set the rainbow to be seen in the cloud to be a token of the promise and everlasting covenant between Him and those on the earth.

As I walked up the ramp to the ark, I thought, “I am so glad I purchased my ticket to go through that door into the ark of safety.”

No, I was not thinking about the ark in Williamstown Kentucky.

I was thinking about how Jesus purchased my ticket for me as He died on the cross for my sins, so that I could receive Him as my Savior and be on the ark of safety in His arms now – and in my eternal home – HEAVEN!

I am so thankful the door of salvation was open.

By Ann Farabee

What? Why had no one told us there would be a drill today?

Usually, as a teacher, I was made aware of a fire drill ahead of time.

I knew immediately that something felt different. My students and I would not be lining up and marching out of the building silently to take our fire drill position in line on the playground. Instead, this drill signal was the one informing us that we were to take our students into our classroom CLOSET and wait together until further notice.

My students stared at me for a brief second before we all  began to walk that direction. We had practiced it, but had never put it into practice.

My 24 students silently moved to pack themselves tightly in that small space, and the 25th person was me. None of us could see our hand in front of our face. So we stood in the darkness. My position was to stand facing the closet door. In other words, if there was a shooter and the door opened, I would be shot first. As a teacher, I was always prepared for that, because I knew that my role would be to protect my students.

 In the darkness, I was praying silently as we held to each other. However, it was different from previous drills in my teaching career. Fire drills we were used to. Following those instructions was simple as we lined up and marched out of the building together silently, while making sure I had all of my students with me.

This drill was different. After an eternity, the closet door creaked open, leaving a crack of light visible in our dark space. There stood a police officer, looking serious and comforting. As his eyes met mine, he asked, “Who is in charge?” Without hesitation, I responded, “I am in charge. I am Mrs. Farabee, and my 24 students are accounted for.”

 I realized that I would have done anything to keep them safe – including sacrificing my own life. A classroom of students and their teacher become a family.

I would not have had it any other way.

Honestly, even though once we knew we were safe, that day did not return to normal at all.

Why accept normal when one feels greater than normal love for each other?

For a teacher, the classroom and their students are a home and a family every day.

As I stood in that closet with my 24 surrounding me, I knew.

I would have given my life for them in a second.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, an announcement was made that we could go back to our normal schedule.

Trust me. Nothing was going to feel normal that day.

However, I acted as if it had just been a drill and we were supposed to get right back to work.

I found out later that a fast food restaurant that was within a couple of blocks of our school had been robbed and that the robber had headed the direction of our school on foot. So, we went into lockdown. It gripped my heart with a plethora of emotions.

Those words still ring in my heart today, “Who is in charge?”

I knew the truth all along –

Fear not for I am with thee.

Isaiah 41:10

By Ann Farabee

 The Voice – Season 25

Once I get past Gunsmoke, Everybody Loves Raymond, the news, and my soap opera, The Voice is pretty much the only other TV show I watch. But watching The Voice when I personally knew someone competing on the show took it to a whole different level.

This season was much more exciting as I followed the journey of my friends, Josh and Kendra Sanders. Watching him move forward in the competition each week heading straight toward the plans God has for his family was remarkable. I am sure they will continue to run with those plans at approximately 100 miles per hour as they continue to do amazing things for Jesus.

Kendra brings out the best in Josh – and Josh brings out the best in Kendra. Together, they form a beautiful team – and a busy team. While pastoring their church and parenting their children, they somehow managed to add on The Voice, as they continued to answer God’s call for their lives.

It is not often that we are able to see friends on national television sharing their faith and testimony with the viewers – especially on a stage as big as The Voice. But they did. And they shared it beautifully and persistently through their actions and their words.

While attending their wedding years ago, it was evident even then that something special was up! It felt like a God moment that day, solidifying that their love would be a light and a love that would endure forever. Yes, they have faced hardships – but God has been their solid rock to lean on no matter the difficulties they have faced. They have supported each other. They have continued to worship Jesus. They have continued to lean on God’s Word.

 Little did I know, however, that the two of them would become advocates for Jesus weekly on national television during Season 25 of The Voice, as Josh sang to millions of viewers about the power of God and ended up in the TOP 2 of the competition!

As amazing and exciting as this has been, who they are is a couple that is in ministry together, raising their children together, serving Jesus together, and sharing their testimonies of God’s love, mercy, and grace, while spreading it to the world. No doubt but what the world will continue to hear from them!

 Kendra’s Facebook post after the conclusion of The Voice finale said it perfectly, “Proud – that word does not even begin to express how I feel about what Josh has done! It worked out exactly how God planned it according to His will! What a journey! I can’t wait to see what God has planned next!”

I cannot wait to see what God has planned next for them either!

Excuse my incorrect grammar, but it ain’t over yet!

 I looked back at a message Kendra sent me in May 2020.

 Her words were:

 I just want God to use me.

He has, Kendra. He is. He will continue to.

Will you join me in dwelling on Kendra’s words for a moment for your own life?

I just want God to use me.

I just want God to use me.

That speaks directly to my heart. I hope it does to yours!

Ephesians 3:20

Now unto Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.

By Ann Farabee

Read for fun

This fact I read recently disappointed me:

Most children stop reading for fun by the age of 9.

Do what? Reading for fun is how I grew up!

Nancy Drew was always solving mysteries.

Cherry Ames was the greatest nurse in the world.

Everyone remembers them, right?

I suppose there was not much interest in a series about a teacher.

I certainly would have read it had it been available.

Elementary school was filled with reading groups, social studies books, science books, and books from the school library. My favorite time to read at school was during what was referred to as “Independent Reading.” To me, that simply meant that I could get lost in my book and forget that I was sitting in a classroom surrounded by 30 other students.

After I would get home from school, I would play school by myself in the living room, where there was a shelf that held all the volumes of the World Book Encyclopedia from which I would read to my imaginary students, who were actually my marbles lined up in rows.  I chose marbles because every one of them was different, so I could teach them individually and as a whole group.

If I was outside playing, I tried to get my friends and siblings to play school with me. It happened often, unless they all decided to hold a beauty pageant instead. I did not have much luck in the beauty pageants, but I usually got to be the teacher when we played school.

As I was growing up, Cannon Mills and the Kannapolis YMCA was the heartbeat of our town. My favorite part of the YMCA was the library. I spent a ridiculous amount of time in that library.

But why not?

There was a world there awaiting me that I could not locate elsewhere.

There were books about every thing I could think of and books about things I had not yet thought of. Often, I would sit at a table and read, but sometimes I would just sprawl out on the floor in the quietest spot I could find, where I could be surrounded by books. That was usually in a part of the library called the reference room.

Yes, I must brag a little that I went home at the end of most summers with a special book that was gifted to me  – because I was in the Cannon Memorial Library Reading Club – and I would read more books than anyone else had read. Those special books I was awarded sat on shelves wherever my home was for half a century before they were moved to the attic.

Even without the awards, I still would have been there reading. Reading took me to places I could never imagine visiting. Reading took me away from my worries. Reading opened up a new world for me.

During many of my years of teaching, my students read independently 30 minutes a day.

Some of them would sprawl out on the classroom floor, or sit in a corner with their book.They were even  allowed to put their feet up on their desks as they read. One student each day got to sit at the teacher desk and read, as I sat at a student desk and read. That classroom was silent because every person was lost in their book. It took practice. It took concentration. It took training. But they began to READ for fun – and for knowledge.

At the end of the 30 minutes, I would look up from the book I was reading, and softly say, “Our independent reading time is up.”  Then there would be a quiet re-entry into our regular school day. We had all just spent 30 minutes at different locations of  the world, reading, learning, and experiencing different things in the world.  The still of the room during Independent Reading time each day is a memory I still cherish..

Training them to read independently –  and me reading independently alongside them as they read – worked. They began to love to read. Sometimes during instructional time, I would see a student slide the book they had been reading out of their desk slightly, locate their bookmark, and take a peek at that page, so they could read just a little further to see what happened. When I would see this, I would never interrupt them. I completely understood. They would get back to reality on their own in a few minutes.

Reading still opens up a world for any of us who allow it to do so.

Yes, I have taught students from all walks of life – and maybe – just maybe – some of them still like to read for fun!

By Ann Farabee

Bite your tongue

What?

Intentionally bite our tongue?

I do not think so.

That could hurt.

A tongue has no bones, but it is strong enough to break a heart.

A tongue has no bones, but it has eight muscles that work overtime.

Ephesians 4:32 – Be kind one to another.

Colossians 4:6 – Let our speech always be with grace.

Proverbs 16:24 – Pleasant words are sweet to the soul and health to the bones.

Ann 1:1 – Train up a tongue in the way that it should go.

Just kidding. I made that one up.

I am still working on training my tongue.

Do not let our mouths work faster than our minds. Hmm? That may take practice.

Have you ever had to eat your words?

I have.

They are not very tasty to say the least.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.

I beg to differ. Words can hurt. So, let’s throw that old saying out the window.

The difference between using a right word and a wrong word is more like the difference in lightning and a lightning bug.

Everyone seems wise until they speak. Quite often, I wish I had kept my mouth shut.

We all need to be reminded of this: Our. Words. Have. Power.

I am sorry. I love you. I believe in you. I forgive you. Will you forgive me? You can do it. May I help you? Let me do that for you. You are right. I trust you. I am so proud of you. You are really special. I was wrong. You are doing a great job.

That is just a sampling, but we all get the idea.

Words challenge.

Words calm.

Words connect.

Words cheer.

Words confirm.

Words comfort.

Words. Change. Us.

Choose. Words. Carefully.

Maya Angelou, a poet who is well known for her autobiographical writings, beautifully stated: “Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.” There are many people with clouds hovering over them – and no rainbow in sight. Let’s grab our dictionaries and start finding encouraging and positive words to empower others to see that rainbow!

Ready? Set? Go….

Thank you for reading my column!

Let me know how your tongue-biting goes…at annfarabee@gmail.com