Ann Farabee

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

By Ann Farabee

This is my story

This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior. All the day long.

The choir director would be flapping his arms all around.

When we got to the word ALL on the last verse, he held his arms up and we would stretch out and hold AAAA-LLLL as long as his arms were in the air.

Now, I occasionally still hear that song at church, so in my mind, I always stretch out the word ALL as we sing!

Why?

Because ALL is one of my favorite words.

Why?

Because ALL means ALL.

Not just some of the day, but ALL of the day!

Yes, I was supposed to praise my Savior ALL the day!

How was I supposed to do that?

At the time, as a teenager, I had a secret life that made me feel less worthy in the eyes of those at my church – or so I thought. I had problems. My days were certainly NOT 24 hours a day praise worthy – or so I thought.

After church on Sunday night, I would go home to a father who had been drinking.

It was my secret life and I was ashamed.

I was jealous of the others in my youth group.

They went home to perfect families – or so I thought.

When I went home, I took fear with me.

I carried fear into my home, and took fear to bed with me.

I would lay there with my eyes open, hoping that sleep would come.

But I knew that at some point, my father would be drinking and begin fussing at my mother.

It was a small mill house and I could hear every word.

I was scared.

I began to stay after school to help my teachers grade papers.

I wanted to stay at school ALL the day long.

Coincidence? No.

It was a God-incidence.

God was preparing me for a lifetime of teaching.

How are we supposed to praise our Savior all day long?

Guess what? It is as easy – because Jesus gives us joy – no matter our circumstance.

It is easy because Satan has no power over us – for we are children of God.

It is easy because we have access to grace.

It is easy because we are justified by faith.

It is easy because we can speak the name of Jesus – and He hears us!

I have a powerful testimony.

It is hard for me to understand how I was able to touch my Savior at a young age and how Jesus removed my fear and replaced it with peace – even in the middle of the night.

Your story is just as powerful – no matter whether it was full of trouble or whether you never had a problem.

Share your story.

Ask someone to share their story with you.

Sharing our story or hearing someone else’s story lifts us up spiritually.

It increases our faith.

Maybe your story is this, “I don’t really have a story. I always went to church. I grew up in a Christian home.”  Guess what? That is a great story! Share it. Offer hope.

Go home  to your friends and tell them the great things the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you. Mark 5:19

Sure, going to a foreign country to share Jesus is powerful – but we must also share Jesus in our homeland. The need is great.

“This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior all the day long…”

The next time you sing this in church – sing  the word ALL extra loudly – just for me.

By Ann Farabee

Sitting in a chair in the living room with my legs across the chair arm, holding a clipboard with a full pack of notebook paper underneath the clip and an ink pen in my hand, I would settle in for hours doing something I loved — writing.

I was a sixth grader and I was on tour with the Beatles. We traveled throughout England and then to many other places throughout the world. As Paul McCartney’s girlfriend, I had to endure all the other girls trying to vie for his attention, but he belonged to me. I knew the other Beatles personally, since we were on the road together, but Paul was mine. Every evening, Paul would step up to the microphone and begin singing, “Yesterday — all my troubles seemed so far away — now it looks as though they’re here to stay — oh I believe in yesterday.”

I filled 60 full pages of notebook paper of these daydreams, making sure they were written in blue ink, so they could not be erased and would be saved forever.

I would search through magazines to see the locations throughout the world where they were on tour. No, I did not own the magazines, but I would be dropped off downtown, so I could go to the newsstand (which was a small corner store with magazines in it) and stand there reading the magazines. Many of those magazines included pictures and news about the Beatles.

Most days, I would sneak my notebook paper with my Beatles story on it into my notebook, and take it to school with me just in case I had a few minutes during my school day to pull it out and do some more writing. If not, I could write that evening at home, and if not, I could write in my notebook while sneaking a flashlight under the covers with me.

At times, it was a Hard Day’s Night, but it was always worth it.

A couple of years later, I began touring with the Monkees, since I was then the girlfriend of Davy Jones. Then, I met Herman of Herman’s Hermits, who sang a song to my mother. I think the title was, “Mrs. Miles, you have a lovely daughter.”

It seems pretty funny, I guess. Or maybe just stupid, but honestly, it took me through many days of daydreams and much writing, writing and more writing.

I will never forget one day, after I had been in college for a couple of years, that as I was home for the summer, and I decided to clean out my closet. I threw all my writing away.

I now call that a mistake. After that mistake, my memories of them began to fade.

I mean, how many of you went on tour with the Beatles — and the Monkees?

I did. I’m a Believer.

Looking back, memories of those years seem so limited now. And the fact that the Beatles and the Monkees are part of my memories makes me wonder how many records I listened to each day. (If you do not know what a record is, ask your grandparents.)

What fascinates me is that memories become history.

History is made up of memories. Memories are like blankets that keep us warm.

Though we may not remember days — we will remember moments.

For that, I am so thankful.

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

By Ann Farabee

Sure I have peace. Well, I have peace as long as I do not have problems. When problems arise, I sometimes initially respond a bit differently.

Depending on the severity of the problem, I either live in fear or live in faith. I sometimes tend to go with fear followed by faith, when I should go with faith followed by faith.

While in church on a recent Sunday morning, as the worship songs were being sung and hands were being lifted in praise to the Lord, I decided to focus for a moment on the congregation.

There were tears. There were voices raised in praise. Arms were lifted toward heaven. Some heads were bowed with eyes closed. Some were looking up. Some were looking down.

We were united as a congregation.

Though each of us had a different story, different problems and different circumstances, we all were choosing to not only trust in Jesus, but to also worship Jesus.

Worship can spill out like the contents of a cup and it can spew inside of us like a fountain.

Worship can be internal or external, quiet or loud.

Worship can be beautiful.

John 16:33 says that in this world we will have trouble, but we can take heart because Jesus has overcome the world.

I am so glad faith follows fear and sucks that fear right out of me.

Sometimes faith arrives like a feather floating right into my heart, and sometimes faith arrives like a tornado, sweeping in and landing right on me.

Faith is such a beautiful gift from God.

Peace is not always easy to find — especially if one is not searching for it.

Everyone may not truly want peace, but instead may choose to be in a battle.

When in a battle, we have a hope of winning.

There has to be a winner, right?

No. Not in making peace.

Peacemaking can actually produce two winners, and peacemaking is God’s way.

That lets us know that being a peacemaker should also be our way.

How to be a peacemaker?

I suggest starting with the fruit of the spirit: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness and self-control.

Numbers 6:26 says that the Lord will give us peace.

Psalm 29:11 says that the Lord will give us strength and bless us with peace.

God gives us the gift of peace, and that promise is enough for me.

I choose peace.