Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

While on a field trip to a farm with my 20 kindergarten students, we saw some sheep. You know — those beautiful pure white animals that softly and gently say, “Baa.”

Even though they were in a fenced-in area, and my students were safely huddled around me, I laughed when one of the sheep emitted a true, “BAA!” Every student backed away, immediately and collectively, sticking closer than a brother to their classmates. Seriously, though. That “BAA” was really loud! Plus, that fleece was nowhere near pure white! Some sheep stats for ‘ewe’ to read:

• They have no survival skills.

• They will follow the sheep in front of them, even off a cliff.

• They bleat, grunt, rumble, snort. (BAA is a bleat.)

• Their main defense mechanism is to run.

• Most die because of predators or from stress.

• They have poor vision.

• They feed from dawn to dusk.

• They are often referred to as being dumb. Some shepherd stats for ‘ewe’ to read:

• They guide their sheep to the best pastures.

• They are skillful, guard, lead, correct and teach.

• They tenderly search for sheep that stray.

• They protect their sheep from harm.

• They bind their wounds when they are hurt.

• They nurture them through health problems.

• They shear and clean them to provide better mobility and decrease stress.

• They anoint them with ointment to bring comfort when troubled by insects, so they can rest.

• They stay with them during the darkness of night, keeping them safe.

• They put the welfare of their sheep above their own lives.

Those sheep. They sure are needy.

Those shepherds. They sure are good.

John 10 says that Jesus is the good shepherd, and the good shepherd gives his life for his sheep. He knows his sheep. He calls them by name. They know him.

Say this aloud: The Good Shepherd. Beautiful words, aren’t they?

We like sheep have gone astray. We sure are needy, aren’t we? The Lord is our shepherd, and we shall not want.

We once were lost but now are found. He sure is good, isn’t He?

I don’t know how you feel while reading this, but I sure was thanking God while writing it!

It makes me just want to look toward heaven, lift my hands in praise, and cry out to Jesus, “Baa…baa. I need You, Lord! Thank you for being my Good Shepherd!”

If we truly get a glimpse of how much our Good Shepherd loves and cares for us, I don’t think we will need to count sheep to help us get to sleep tonight!

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

By Ann Farabee

I categorize myself as a bit of a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas decorating, even though we put our tree up on Nov. 9. I do not consider myself a super helper in this area, either. However, I am a super supervisor.

My favorite part of the decorating is putting the ornaments on the tree, because that requires full family participation, as they listen to me share great memories about the story behind each ornament.

At the bottom of the box where our ornaments have been lovingly stored in the attic for the past year, there are always a few that are broken or separated from their other ornament friends. I have been known to toss some of them gently into the trash, if no one is looking.

This year, as I was preparing to do just that, I noticed Mary — the mother of Jesus. My mind began to think about what her world must have been like in some of those seconds, minutes, days, months and years that she lived on Earth.

The angel Gabriel had brought her the news! She was highly favored and would be the earthly mother of Jesus! As excited and honored as she must have felt, the book of Luke also tells us that she was troubled at what the angel said and questioned him, asking, “How can this be?”

Nine months later, riding on a donkey for four days while ‘great’ with child? That journey had to be very difficult.

No room at the inn? Oh, the pain of that rejection.

Bringing her baby into a dark, ugly world in a dark, ugly manger? It was basically a cave with a feeding trough! Definitely not what she had envisioned.

Twelve years later, heading home from the temple and realizing her son was missing? Unimaginable fear must have gripped her heart.

Twenty-one years after that, her pain was certainly unbearable as she watched Jesus suffer on the cross. She had witnessed his birth, and now has to witness his death. He came to this world as her son and left this world as her Savior. As Jesus looked ahead in time and died for us, He also looked down from the cross and died for her.

Peace for Mary surely at times seemed elusive. Just as it does at times for each of us. We all want peace. We all need it. If we don’t have it, we know it.

We may have received news that is troubling, where we ask, “How can this be?” We may be facing a long, difficult journey. We may feel rejection from others that seem to have no room for us in their lives. We may be in a dark and ugly place, far from what we had envisioned. We may have times of unimaginable fear or unbearable pain as we face circumstances that leave us hurting.

Though Mary’s life was not easy, she lived her life in peace. How do we know that? Because we know she accepted Jesus into heart and life. We also know that she had the Prince of Peace — Jesus — with her always.

I looked again at that manger scene and remembered these words

I have heard many times: No Jesus, no peace.

Know Jesus, know peace.

I sure am thankful for that heavenly peace that passes all understanding and comes only by knowing and accepting the Prince of Peace.

No — the manger scene was not tossed — and I doubt that it would ever be!

By Ann Farabee

As a children’s Sunday school teacher for many years, I was often asked this question, “Where is God?”

My response: God is in heaven.

God is in our hearts.

Another question often asked was, “Is God watching us?”

My response: The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous.

His ears are open to our cry.

He sees the past, present, and future of our lives.

He never sleeps nor slumbers.

His eyes are constantly watching us.

He is our hiding place.

He preserves us from trouble.

He surrounds us with songs of deliverance.

He instructs us in the way that we should go.

He guides us.

These are a few of God’s Promises in the book of Psalms.

How can that be?

As I typed these words, God was speaking to my heart. Those words totally wreck my heart.

To say God ‘wrecks my heart’ is slang for a state of euphoria. Euphoria means experiencing pleasure, excitement and intense feelings of well-being and happiness.

How in the world could I have a state of euphoria?

I am old. I am tired.

I forget things.

I am busy.

One of my favorite statements seems to be, “It is always something.”

When I say those words, a sigh usually accompanies them.

But then I remember the goodness of God! And I thank God — for everything!

God is a miracle that we all have access to.

He will come live in our hearts.

The Holy Spirit is God’s spirit, God’s power, God’s breath, God’s active force and influence over the universe and His creations. God created us in His image, and He speaks to us through the Holy Spirit.

Jeremiah 31:33 says, “I will put my teachings in their minds. And I will write them on their hearts.”

In our minds. On our hearts.

He is our God.

We are His people.

What more could we ask for from our Savior, Jesus Christ? Incredible. Amazing. Extraordinary. Magnificent. Wonderful. Marvelous. Spectacular. We are God’s people!

Where is God?

He is everywhere!

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

By Ann Farabee

It is a government of the people, by the people and for the people. Democracy is a beacon shining from generation to generation, guiding us as we journey through life.

We are the citizens of this great country — the United States of America. We are fathers, mothers, children, students, educators, factory workers, business owners, medical professionals, government workers, bankers, retail workers and more.

How could my writing possibly express my thankfulness for America?

On my own, I do not feel that it can. However, the good news is that America speaks for itself through legacies that have been left behind, and legacies that will be left behind.

We go to the Washington Monument, where George Washington is memorialized as the first president of the United States. He spoke these words,“Let me ask you, sir, when is the time for brave men to exert themselves in the cause of liberty and their country, if not now?”

We go to the Jefferson Memorial, where the statue of Thomas Jefferson takes us to a moment in time where we can almost feel the steps being taken to secure freedom for America, as the Declaration of Independence was adopted on July 4, 1776.

We go to the Lincoln Memorial, where we stand in awe of this symbol of unity, strength and wisdom, which reminds us of Abraham Lincoln’s legacy of freeing slaves and saving the union. His words still resonate today, “All men are created equal.”

We go to the Arlington National Cemetery, where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is guarded 24 hours a day. While standing there in respectful silence, we hear and see the changing of the guard, as we honor those who died for our country.

We go to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, where we will feel emotions we did not even realize we had, as we show honor to veterans and the military.

We go to the Capitol, the meeting place of the legislative branch of the federal government. There, we are represented by those we elected, knowing they will support and defend our country through the lens of the laws of America.

We go to the White House, the official residence of our nation’s president, because it is a symbol of our government and its people. We are mesmerized by it, as we begin to grasp the gravity of what it represents.

We go to the Smithsonian Institution. As we walk through, we hear a video of Martin Luther King Jr. saying these words, “I have a dream.” It will remind us that, as Americans, we can all have a dream.

Where do we go from here? We will look back, embracing all that previous generations have done to preserve our democracy. From there, we will continue to go forward. Democracy in our generation and in the generations to come will never cease to be a beacon that shines on us — and through us. It is the land of the free — and the home of the brave. Thank You, God, for allowing us to live in America. It is the land that we love.

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

Read more at: https://www.salisburypost.com/2023/11/25/ann-farabee-thankful-for-america/

By Ann Farabee

Her hair was white. She moved a little slowly.

That meets the criteria for being old, right?

Yes, she was definitely old — in the eyes of our sixth-grade class.

She was a good teacher, but I may be a little prejudiced because I was her pet. She let me grade all the papers.

She let me sit at her desk and take names when she left the room. Trust me — I ran a taut ship during name taking.

I would write names on the chalkboard for all to see. However, if one of the names belonged to a cute boy, I may have occasionally erased it before the teacher got back in the room.

I always helped the teacher. It was my destiny.

No matter how many papers I graded for her, no matter how many times I took names for her, no matter how many times she let me sit at her desk in front of the classroom reading a textbook to the class — those things are not my main memory of sixth grade.

My main memory took place in the stairwell.

As we headed down the stairwell to go to lunch one day, my teacher turned around to look at us to make sure we were not talking and in a straight line.

As she turned back around, she missed a step. She fell.

There was a giggle or two from a couple of students, but it stopped immediately. The seriousness of the situation quickly became overwhelming, as we saw that she was not able to get up. We were all scared. All 30 of us remained motionless.

I felt helpless because our leader was helpless.

She cried out, “Somebody go get help!” The worst behaved kid in the class yelled, “I’ll go!”

As he ran for help, she cried out again, “Somebody try to lift me up!”

A couple of boys ran down that stairwell in two seconds flat.

They were there to help, although I recognized them as being classroom troublemakers, too.

A few days later, she returned to school with a cast on her arm.

During the emergency, I had remained motionless. I was not strong enough to lift her up, and I was not brave enough to run for help.

Me — the teacher’s pet, the paper grader, the name taker, the first in line. For the first time, I recognized the value in a couple of classmates that I had marked off as troublemakers. When it came to the emergency — I backed away, and they stepped forward.

I learned a lesson that day. I learned that I needed others.

Sometimes the ones we think are the worst are the ones who show up to lift us up.

1 Thessalonians 5:11 says, “Encourage one another and lift one another up.” Got that?

Encourage one another. Lift one another up. Simple and powerful.

God made us all, and we are all different.

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

By Ann Farabee

Clearly, it was not said to encourage. The young student looked at me and asked this question, “Why are you so fat?” I was pregnant at the time, so I had an excuse. Not that I needed one.

A sixth-grade boy was speaking to a sixth-grade girl: “Why are you wearing that ugly bow in your hair?” Negative attention had been brought to something the young girl had considered to be beautiful, but no amount of compliments would be enough to reel her in from the embarrassment and hurt she felt from that one comment. A bow carefully placed in her hair that morning may have felt beautiful, but one negative remark took that feeling away.

Negative comments. The damage can be irreversible. The child or adult can back away, try to blend in, laugh it off or use any conceivable method of dealing with it, but the truth is criticism hurts. Sometimes it hurts forever.

I have seen children not want to go to school or not want to go home because of it.

I have seen teenagers not want to go to church because of it.

I have seen adults become so offended that they shut down because of it.

Do our negative thoughts always have to be said aloud? Can we not just keep them in our minds and not let them slip out of our mouths?

The word criticism is defined as expressing disapproval or speaking negatively about someone or something. More simply stated, criticism is saying something bad about someone or something.

Without the help of the Holy Spirit, we can be masters of negativity and criticism.

A child was sitting alongside her father during a teacher conference. The parent saw one grade on the report card he did not like, and yelled at his daughter, “What’s wrong with you?”

She and I looked at each other, and as I saw tears forming in her eyes, I think she saw the grief forming in mine.

What a waste of a parenting opportunity to show love and support to their child.

It was all I could do to hold in these words to the parent, “What’s wrong with you?”

James 4:11 says, “Do not speak evil against one another.”

Psalm 19:14 says, “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, Lord.”

There are times when difficult conversations must take place, but with God’s Word to guide us, even those conversations can be held without criticism and with words spoken in love.

Most of the time, hurtful words could have — and should have — been left unsaid.

One year, as my fourth-grade students were preparing for the state writing test, we took a list of words we did not need to use repetitively to the playground, where we buried them. The next school year, a new school building had been built on top of our list, so I suppose those words are buried forever.

Maybe we should bury all those critical words we tend to use?

Maybe we should bury them in such a deep place that they are no longer accessible?

Maybe we can find better words to use instead?

Lord, may our words and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable in your sight. Amen

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

By Ann Farabee

His name was John.

His mother died when he was seven. Spiritual training stopped.

His father was very strict. They had no real relationship.

He had to stop going to school, so he could work with his father — at sea. When he was 19, his father felt he needed more discipline, and forced him into the Royal Navy, which thrived on severe discipline. He tried to escape, was found, was chained in irons — and received 96 lashes. He was a slave and a slave trader. It was a low point in his life where he described himself as a wretched-looking man.

Then came the night that changed everything.

A tumultuous storm arose at sea. The ship had begun to sink. He fearfully watched as someone was swept overboard. As he held on tightly, he began to remember Bible verses about grace — that he had learned from his mother.

He prayed for the first time in years.

The storm weakened.

The ship steadied.

He referred to it as the hour he first believed.

That hour he first believed, some words began to form in his mind — the words to a song he would write — Amazing Grace.

Can you envision those words being poured into his spirit that night? How he must have kept repeating them over and over in his mind? He surely felt strong emotion over the power in the words. For they were his story — a story of grace.

The first part of John’s life story was filled with dangers, toils and snares. The last part of his story was about grace that would lead him home. Even though he dealt with blindness in his later years, he turned his life upside down for Christ, as he became a loving husband, adoptive father, minister, abolitionist, published author and a song writer.

He never could have imagined that 250 years later those words would also be sung as our story of grace, reminding us of who God is — and who we are — through Christ.

Amazing grace how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost — but now am found

Was blind but now I see.

Twas grace that taught my heart to fear

And grace my fears relieved

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares

I have already come.

Tis grace that brought me safe thus far

And grace will lead me home.

Mr. John Newton, thank you for writing these words.

God sure did use a ‘wretch’ like you.

Amazing grace.

The sound of it is so sweet.

Can you hear it?

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

By Ann Farabee

Sometimes a new season arrives and we do not even realize it until nature reminds us.

Those reminders from nature are the best, because at times the calendar is clueless.

God whispers, “Whoosh,” and the leaves begin changing colors, leaving behind intricate designs painted by the Master.

God whispers, “Whoosh,” and the leaves begin to fall to the ground to make room for the arrival of new buds that usher in spring.

God whispers, “Whoosh,” and the trees know to be still and wait — because a winter wonderland is on the way.

God whispers, “Whoosh,” and a new spring season begins as all becomes new.

After typing these words, I had to take a peek outside just to be sure I had not missed anything. Sure enough, the leaves on the trees had traces of yellowish brown and were moving ever so slightly.

Honestly, at my first look, I only saw one leaf slightly stirring, but then I remembered to be still and wait. Soon I sighted another one — and another one — moving ever so slightly right on cue. Surely, God was sending me heavenly whispers.

In John 20:16, Mary was standing at the tomb of Jesus with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her Lord had been taken away and she did not know where they had taken Him. What a burden for a mother to carry!

Most certainly, the wind of the Holy Spirit whispered, “Whoosh,” as she heard His gentle voice, “Why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

She was still. She waited.

There was the voice again, but this time she heard Jesus whisper her name, “Mary.”

Not only was it a special moment for Mary, it was also a special moment for the world.

For our world and generations to come were on His mind. He looked ahead in time and thought of us — each of us.

Me and you. In one breath, I believe Jesus whispered all of our names.

Yes, Jesus belonged to Mary, but He also belonged to us. He is our Jesus, and we are His children. He loved us enough to die for us.

It is not just a great story. It is HIS-tory.

Jesus went from death to life for each and every one of us.

Mary’s season of grief became a season of belief.

She had assumed He was the gardener that day as Jesus spoke to her. In a way, maybe she was right.

For He was our Savior who would tend the gardens of all our lives in all of our futures.

A season of grief became a season of belief.

His work had been done, and a new season had begun. Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker.

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

Heaven felt really close that morning. Above me were the whitest white clouds and the bluest blue skies I had ever seen. They hovered above me like I belonged with them. Touching them did not seem out of the realm of possibility.

Looking back twenty years later, I believe heaven may actually have been a little closer that day. Because…a few hours earlier, I had watched my mother slip away and cross over to her heavenly home, where her faith had become sight.

1 Peter 1:3-4 says that because of God’s abundant mercy, we are born again to a living hope, through the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. It is an everlasting heritage, is not subject to death, will not fade away, and is reserved in heaven for us.

Yes, there was a place in heaven reserved for her!

She had RESERVATIONS!

*She did not have to check any baggage, because she did not take any with her.

*She did not have to prove her identity, because Jesus knew her.

*She did not have to pay to get in, because Jesus had paid the price!

Just minutes after singing these words around her bedside, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see,” Jesus took her home. I somehow believe she was greeted in heaven with that song – sung by the heavenly choir!

Revelation 21:4-5 tells us that God wiped away her tears, that she would see no more death, she would feel no more sorrow, nor crying, and she would have no more pain, for those things had passed away. God had made all things new.

John 14:2-3 tells us there was a mansion awaiting her, because Jesus had gone to prepare a place for her, and that He would come again and receive her unto himself, that where He was, there she would be also.

Yes, Jesus had prepared a place – for her – and He came back to get her! The promise of eternal life that she had clung to – had been fulfilled.

1 Corinthians 2:9 says that our eyes have not seen, nor have our ears heard, neither has it entered into our hearts, the things that God has prepared for those who love him.

1 Corinthians 13:12 says that now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Now we know in part, but then we will be complete.

I believe it. I believe it all. I believe it for me. I believe it for you. And I believe it for those who have gone on before us.

God is real. Heaven is real. His promises are true.

Lord, I pray for those who are grieving the loss of a loved one. Heal their broken hearts. Comfort them. Wrap Your arms around them. Give them peace that passes all understanding. May we all somehow catch a glimpse of just how beautiful heaven must be… Amen.

By Ann Farabee

It is the young woman who feels she is invisible?

Valuable.

It is the recovering addict who relapsed – again?

Valuable.

It is one who is grieving the loss of a child?

Valuable.

It is the student who never seems to fit in?

Valuable.

It is the church member who struggles with doubt?

Valuable.

It is the one in pain who cries out daily, “Lord, help me.”?

Valuable.

It is the one in the throes of depression, who wants the sun to shine again?

Valuable.

It is the one who feels they are always in a battle, but rarely see a victory?

Valuable.

It is the elderly — living alone — waiting for a visitor?

It is the unemployed — afraid of losing their home?

It is the child — living in a home filled with anger?

It is the beggar — humbly holding up a sign on the street corner?

It is the liar? ‏The thief? ‏The murderer? ‏The adulterer? ‏The sinner?

All valuable.

These words said to me by an inmate were sobering, “I did a lot of wrong things. I pray. But can I even be forgiven?”

He felt he had no value. No self-worth.

God clears up any doubts about that in the very first chapter of the Bible. ‏Genesis 1:31 says that after He had created man in his own image, he saw every thing he had made and it was very good! Not just good — very good! And, Isaiah 43:4 says we are precious in his sight! That sounds pretty valuable to me!

How could that be, Lord? We have done a lot of wrong things. We pray. But can we even be forgiven? Are we valuable to God, the creator of the universe?

Here’s a $20 bill. It’s for you. Do you want it? ‏I tracked it online to see where it had been — and it has been some horrible places. Places that you would never want to go. Still want it? ‏Oh wow! Look at the date on this $20 bill. It is so old! How could anything that old be valuable? Still want it? I’m sorry. I dropped it. It is so dirty now. Still want it? Hey, I’ll just crumple it up. It is no good now. Still want it? It’s dirty. It’s crumpled. It has been some horrible places. It is surely damaged. It has been through some hard times. Surely, it is of no value. I may as well stomp on it. Do you still want it? Yes.

Is it still valuable? Yes. And we — are valuable — to God.