Ann Farabee

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!

By Ann Farabee

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 7 p.m., the temperature was 60 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 worshiping our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

The wise men had been looking for Jesus. They found Him and worshiped Him. 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! Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker.

Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.

By Ann Farabee

The Election – 2024

From generation to generation –

ELECTIONS continue.

This year seems a bit more – hmm  –  the only word I could think of was ELECTRIC.

Electric in that sentence means having a sense of thrilling excitement.

It may just be me, but I have fallen into the trap of recently watching and listening to channels that are talking politics. I hope one cannot get addicted to that. By the time you read this, however, it will be over and I can get back to normal.

I finally caved and decided to address my personal results of the election season in my column.

1. I am  talking to more people. We have so much to talk about. Even getting the mail out of my mailbox can stir up a political conversation with a neighbor.

2.  Watching television is way more interesting. The commercials are fascinating.

3. I have actually spent time with friends who have not mentioned the election –

    and also with friends who only want to talk about the election.

4. Yes, the beauty shop – I mean hair stylists and their clients have opinions, too. This is true   most anywhere.

My 17 year old grandson is rather irked by the fact that he will be 3 days short of being able to vote this year, which puts his first presidential election vote four years away.

My 20 year old grandson made sure he voted early, which was a wise choice, since he is away at college.

We have not tried to sway them politically, but we are often products of what we surround ourselves by, right?

Voting is a great privilege, whether it is a presidential election year or not.

Just for you – my readers – I will reveal the presidential elections I have survived thus far:

When I was born, Republican Dwight Eisenhower was president and Richard Nixon was vice president. During the re-election campaign, Eisenhower made a concerted effort to win the female vote. It worked, as they were re-elected in the 1956 election.

Then came 1960. I was 6 years old and for the first time I became aware that we had a president. John F. Kennedy was the man my parents voted for and admired. My political life began to grow exponentially on November 22, 1963, when as a 9 year old, I cried on the playground at Woodrow Wilson School, as we all heard that our president – the leader of our country – had been assassinated.

From that point on in my life, I believe I was forever changed, as I gained a love for our great country, America, that I had not recognized previously, but began to nurture for the rest of my life.

 Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W Bush, Obama, Trump, and Biden were also part of the history in which I have lived.

Whether the presidential candidate my parents voted for when I was a child won or not – we all survived. Whether the presidential candidates I have voted for won or not – I survived. I knew from a young age that the president is not the King.

Jesus is the King!

Jesus is the final authority!

Jesus is the King that will be with us forever!

In Matthew 28:20, Jesus said,  “I am with you always even unto the end of the world. Amen.”

After I typed those words said by Jesus, I bowed my head, and through my tears I whispered, “Amen!”

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.