Mother's Day Thoughts from a Teacher

Mother's Day. So many angles to come from on this holiday. 
There's the blog to the ones who've lost mothers, those who've lost children, those who have no children.
Those who are birth mothers, who have given up their children so that someone else will celebrate this title tomorrow. 
Step-mothers. Grandmothers. Stand-in mothers. Mother-in-laws. 

Tomorrow each of these are honored, celebrated, or thought about.
As a mother of three, two here and one in heaven, I've had no harder, yet greater title. I love mine dearly, but daily learn that while I call them mine, they are really just gifts entrusted to me for the days that God has ordained.

But this blog is not just about them.
It's about the other 20 children I have, and their mothers.

Everyday, five days a week, seven-ish hours a day, for approximately 180 days a year, I am the "other mother."
They expect me to be there. They have so much to tell me. They get mixed up sometimes, and call me "Mama, only to get tickled and say, "I called you mama; I mean Mrs. Marshall." That happens weekly. 
They need me to listen. They ask me to tie their shoes. They want me to put a bandaid on their scrapes. They offer endless hugs, and say things like, "Your the best teacher I never had." (No, that's not a typo.)

They make me laugh. They make me mad. They make me cry.
Just like my own children do.
In fact, I see them more than I see my own children, it seems.

But here's the thing, mother's of my students: They loved you first. 
You held them at birth, looking at amazement into those eyes, and were overcome with wonder and an unnerving sense of responsibility. It was you who were there for 6 years before you ever sent them to me. In those six years, you've most likely done the best you can, as most mothers do. Yes, you've failed, as all mothers do. But, yes, you've succeeded as well. You've fed, changed, clothed, bathed, fed, rocked, read to them, hugged them, taught them. Loved them.

As their teacher, and their "other mother," I too have failed. And had a few successes. I've fed them, hugged them, read to them, taught them, counseled them. Loved them.

We only have nine days left together, and as I am probably more excited than they, I still have a sense of responsibility and regret, as that "second mom." I'm almost out of time, and I wonder, "How much did I teach them? Did I show them that I love them or will they remember my bad days? Have I invested enough? Will they take anything with them as they leave my room, other than a few leftover dull crayons and an unfinished workbook?"

As their "Teacher/Mom" these are the thoughts that fill my mind. In less than two weeks, I'll "release" them back to you, moms. You, their first love, the best mommies. My prayers go with you- because I know you'll need them just as much as I have needed them this year! Just know that I have tried my best to care for yours as I would my own. I've tried to teach them more than just the "ABC's and 1, 2, 3's." I pray that as you mother, you will be strengthened by the Father.
And as you and I struggle through this thing called motherhood, may we always be reminded that they truly are a gift from the Lord. 
Psalms 127:3- Don't you know that children's are God's best gifts? 

As I look at my own, I realize that time is moving quickly. Four years. Six years. It will go by fast, and they will be out own their own. Those same questions haunt me. How much have I invested, taught? On the days when I've been consumed with impatience and frustration, did they see any hint of Jesus in me? What will they remember?
Teacher. Mother.
Probably the hardest two jobs on the planet.
Possibly the most rewarding. 

So, mothers of my students. "Happy Mother's Day." 
One of your kids told me these words as he was getting ready to walk out the door Friday. It brought tears to my eyes. Just one of the rewards.

To my own children's teachers, thank you for being that "other mother."

To all those who fit in the "other" blogs that have probably been written about you this weekend, please know you (we) are not forgotten. As God saw Hagar in the Old Testament, He is the God who sees you (us) as well.
I pray tomorrow He holds you and gives you mercies new.

Great is Thy Faithfulness

Sunday morning I got a text from my "go-to" guitar player that simply said, "Out came the Son. Just a reminder."
At first, I wondered if he was "reminding" me of that for a specific reason. I texted back, and he said, no, just a reminder.
You'd think that would be something that I wouldn't need reminding of....... 

But even still, after literal and figural cloudy days, it's always good to stop to remember that the "Son" does come back out.

Later, at church, as the worship service flowed, so did my tears. You see, we began singing "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." At first, they old hymn version, then a praise chorus version. The tears didn't come right away, even as precious and meaningful as the song is to me. If you know my Pruitt story, you know why. If not, just ask; I'd be glad to share :)

Anyway...
My heart gave way, as did the tears, when I began to look out into the congregation from the choir loft.

There I found these faces:

A young widow. An older widow.
A young couple still coping with loss through a miscarriage.
A cancer survivor. 
Children who come to church without parents. 
Parents who come to church without their children.
A young girl who lost her mother and is learning to live alone. 
One who has faced abuse. 
A widower.
Single parents.
Married couples. 
Those who have faced infertility.

Then I saw countless saints, those who have walked with the Lord for many years.

I thought of each of these. I looked at their faces. We sang, "Oh how great is thy faithfulness; Lord, You are faithful to me." And I cried.

I cried bittersweet tears as I thought about the faithfulness that I know God must have shown them in each of these situations, the mercies that He's given daily to meet them where they are in their pain or struggle.

Those precious, older souls.....I wished that I could have sat down with them to hear their stories of God's goodness and faithfulness in their lives. What a book we could write on that!

Of course, I thought about myself and God's constant faithfulness to me. In the very worst days of my life, and in the normal day to days of my life. 

His grace on the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.
When you lose the job, lose a loved one, lose a home, lose your health to a diagnosis.

Or on the days when the car won't start, the dog got out, the coffee spills all over your car seat.
When you get stuck by the train.
When you're potty training.
When the kids are fighting. 
When you fail a class.
When he breaks your heart.
When the bills are due.

When it looks like the rain won't stop.

I was honored to get to speak in chapel last week at the school I attended 3rd-12th grade.
I shared with 7-12th grade first; then the elementary students.

During my time with the younger ones, we sang the Itsy Bitsy Spider. I reminded them that the song didn't end with the line "down came the rain and washed the spider out."

No. That's not the end. Eventually, "Out came the sun and dried up all the rain."

So whatever you are going through, remember that.
This isn't the end. Yes, yes, yes- it may be  is hard. 
I know.

But look for the "Son" in the midst of it. And when you see Him, sing out, "Great is thy faithfulness, Great is thy faithfulness; morning by morning new mercies I see." 

And then go tell someone your story.

"Out came the Son. Just a reminder."

Psalms 89:1
I will sing of the Lord's great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations."

Wait Till You See How It Ends

I absolutely LOVE a good book or movie-especially with a plot twist. You know the ones: The Game with Michael Douglas and Sean Penn or The Village by M. Night Shyamalan. What about The Sixth Sense? Or maybe one of those girly movies (that I also love!) where after all the ups and downs and disappointments, the guy does get the girl. Then there's those books I love, like one of my favorites by Ted Dekker called Three. You'll just have to read it- I'm not giving it away.

What I love more is watching the movie a second time, with someone else who is seeing it for the first time. Or giving them the book after I've read it. The excitement is almost too much to take! I can't wait until they get the the end! And I hate spoilers, so there's no way I'm going to ruin the surprise! I just want them to finish so we can talk about it!

Yesterday, as I was flipping channels, I found The Passion of the Christ of television.  I've seen it before, but kept it on the channel for a while. Peyton came in, watched a little, then changed the station. I left the room, and came back to find him watching it again.
We didn't finish the movie, but as it was playing, this thought occurred to me: "Wait till you see how this ends!"

It is a hard movie to watch, seeing with not only our eyes but also our hearts, what Christ did for us, and how much pain He took on for us.  Then just when it looks like death had won, Jesus is resurrected! But even when you get to the end of that movie, it's still not THE END!
When He returns to take us home, it's still not over- that is just the beginning!

I also thought about all the suffering and pain that we go through. SO MANY are enduring things tonight that bring hurt, heartache, and what appears to be defeat.
Addictions, death, a diagnosis, loss, fears, failures, destruction, unfaithfulness, exhaustion...we both know the list is endless.

BUT WAIT. 
Just wait till you see how this ends. 
Don't give up.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. You can face tomorrow. 
I know it's a song many may sing, tomorrow, in fact.

But it's more than a song. It's TRUTH. 

Spoiler Alert!
Christ overcame death. Defeated death. Punched death in the face. He squashed death under His foot. 
OH! Death, where is your sting?

Because of this, we have HOPE.
And because of that hope, just wait till you see how this thing ends. 

Not Gray: It's black or white.

Part of this will be a re-post from a couple of years ago.

I debated again about writing about this. I mean- there's been ump-teen (is that even how you spell that?) articles posted about the 50 Shades movie. All that I have read have been well written, and follow my thoughts about it- So why write one more?

Here's why.
I read on a page tonight, posted by a teen, of how she needed a "Christian Gray" in her life. WHAT!!??
MY. HEART. SANK.

What on earth? How is it that this is the model of what a young (very young) woman would want in a man?  I haven't read the book- but I've read enough about it to know that he is not what a godly man looks like. Is he even what a good man looks like? 

But here's my problem, in context of this situation.
Moms, aunts,  young women, older women,  those of us who can be mentors to our teen girls- what message are you and I sending to them when we condone, and participate in movies and books as such- and play it off as entertainment?

I will be the first to admit there have been things that I should not have watched. I'll also tell you that unfortunately those images are burned in my mind to this day.

I will also confess- wonder if I'm alone- that even as messed up as the movie is, there is a temptation that calls out to me when I see the previews. It is designed to lure us in. Even if for some reason there was someone who had no clue what the movie was about, the trailer stirs within you a desire to want to know. No, I don't want to see it, nor will I see it. That doesn't remove the whisper of the darkness though.  The whisper is so real, that the other night I dreamed I went to see the movie.
It's infiltrated my sleep. But that is the way the darkness works. It gets in our head. It parades as light, as entertainment. It begins with temptation, then sin, and eventually death. "But each person is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desires. Then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin, and when sin is fully grown, it gives birth to death." James 1:14-15

Back to my original debate- our young girls. It is hard enough to try to live a godly life as an adult. Try being fifteen. Look at what society tells them is normal, natural. Worse than that, when my first graders are using words like "sexy" and "humping," I know we are way off from what morality and our homes should look like. And now, for some reason not just women, but also teenage girls have the idea that they need a "love" in the form of Christian Gray.

Oh, we need Jesus.

I need Jesus, everyday.

Ladies- and men, if it applies- what message are you sending to those who are looking up to you? To those who are watching what you do and say? I promise, they are looking and listening.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Here's the repost:

A few nights ago, I woke myself up from a nightmare. If you know me very well, you'll know I have weird dreams. So, this night was like most, only I rarely have nightmares. I was dreaming that I was driving into some camp-like setting. Next thing I remember, we're at a pond at my parents. There's a tree growing by the the pond, a dirt hill, and more water on the other side of the hill. Coming up beside the tree is a python- a big one.  This particular python was swallowing a raccoon, if I remember correctly. I ran, needless to say, as it crossed over the hill, to the other side of the water. There, my daddy and I were standing on the edge, where some roots or something "snaky looking" was also in the water. There was another snake nearby. Then, the scary part- Presley was in the water; she was very little in my dream. The next thing I remember, she went down behind the roots, and before I finally woke up, I was trying to scream to my daddy, "Go get her! Go get her!" I knew that snake was headed in her direction.
I woke myself and Jason up, as I was making that noise. As I was in the middle of waking/dreaming, I remember trying to get my daddy to get her, only it was as if I had my mouth taped. I couldn't get the words out, and he couldn't understand what I was saying.


Before I get to the rest of this blog, let me start by saying I have often thought certain "snakes" were just "sticks." There have been plenty of times where something seemed harmless and I picked it up, only to realize later I'd been bitten. That is just how the snake, the devil, works. So, guilty I am. I've held the snake of bitterness, pride, jealously, lust, envy, slander, gossip..........when Satan had made them only look like harmless, lifeless sticks........I've got no stones to throw. But, if someone saw a snake about to come after me, bite me or begin to wrap around me, I would hope they would hear someone screaming, "Go get her!" like I was in my dream.

I have been very concerned over the summer's rage in books and movies. Even as I type, I have mixed feelings of how to convey my feelings yet not come across judgmental. I feel these are just some of the tools Satan uses. He parades around as light, but his goal is to steal, kill and destroy. We justify so much, thinking it doesn't affect us.
I asked, "How do we balance not sounding judgmental, yet hold ourselves and others up to the standards to which we are called?" Are we just "fans" of Christ, or "followers?"

These are hard questions I'm having to ask myself.

The Lord has convicted me of some of these "grey" areas, but really, there are no grey areas.
It's either darkness or light- those are not my Words.

I pray that God would put those people in my life, who will "come get me" when they see that I may be near a snake and not realize it. OR, when I'm near a snake and I DO realize it.

I pray for the love of God to help me "go get others" in danger.

"In reality just about anywhere you go in dense tropical habitats, there are many many snakes around you. But how often do you actually see the snakes? They are difficult to see because most snakes are "sit and wait" predators but also because they have great markings to help them hide from predators and prey." - thewildclassroom.com

To That Child.......

To that child.....

The one that is full of energy and enthusiasm. I wish I could bottle it up and sell it- we would be rich together. Your zest and zeal for life knows no end. I'm sure when you fall asleep at night your body quietly says, "thank you." Your mama probably does too. Yes, it sometimes is exhausting. But when I catch the spark in your eye, and the smile on your face, I can't help but smile back and think of how you might change the world with that fervor. 
I envy you.

To that child....
That one that never talks. Sometimes I wonder why? Is it because you are simply shy? Reserved? A wallflower? A rule-follower, afraid of getting in trouble? Or is you mind so full of anxieties, lost in a world of its own? Maybe there's so much you have seen, yet you are too afraid to voice it, for you know then it becomes even more truth over your life. 
I wish you would talk to me, tell me all the reasons why. 
I am a great listener.

To that child....
The attention seeker. You are demanding of my every minute. You long to be seen, and will do whatever it takes for my eyes to be on you. If you had it your way, you'd probably be okay to be the only one in my class. You might be the star of your family, the entertainer, the show-stopper. Others like you may defy every "rule" in place, simply because you want to be noticed. Because maybe that's the only way you are noticed at home. It took me a long time to understand you, and even still, I don't. Why would you act out, knowing there are consequences? Yet, I've found myself in that same place before. Longing for attention, from someone that I can trust, who loves me. I relate to you.
You, too are a star. Shine bright!

To that child...
The one with baggage, too much baggage in your six years. I never know how you may respond to things. Sometimes you cry, sometimes you put up a wall. Sometimes you tell me about all that stuff you carry around, a burden that you don't even realize is heavy yet. Your tears may fall as I tell you I love you. Or you may just look at me, not sure if you can really believe me, for love looks strange to you- and others have failed you, those you thought loved you. Your world is unstable. You may not know where your next meal will come from. You may fall asleep in class because of what went on the night before. Or you may tell me you love me too, because you long for someone to be able to say that to, and know it's reciprocal. You don't have to carry those bags by yourself. 
I ache for you.

To that child...
The defiant one. I have wondered what happened? What took place that brought on so much anger inside you already? How have you felt wronged so much in your short life that you are ready to take on the world with fists flying? I try to see past the rage and resentment to a place deep inside you, a place crying out for help. You don't even know that you need help, but with me in your corner, maybe we can break through-bring you to a place where you can allow that same fight in you to be used for good. Then you really can take on the world. 
I have hope for you.

To that child...
The one with insecurities. You double check. You feel like you have to compete. You struggle. You think you can't succeed. You compare yourself to others, and fail to see the strength inside. Instead, you listen to the voices of the enemy spoken through other's tongues. You feel you have no purpose.
You hear Failure. Ugly. Poor. Inadequate. Dumb. I say you are Successful. Beautiful. Rich. Enough. A Genius. There is a plan for your life. Don't listen to the lies.
I have been you.

To all of you-
If I were being honest, you are what makes me want to quit some days. And yet, you are the very thing that won't let me. You are what keep me coming back. Not Math. Not Reading. Not the paycheck. Not summer break (although, I do like that part.)

Every year, the struggle is real over whether or not I'll be back the next August. 
Even tonight, I wonder this. How much longer can I do this? It is EXHAUSTING. I don't know how to be all things to all these little ones. 
But, I try. Sometimes I succeed, and many days I fail.


We will struggle together. We will fight together. We will be quiet together. I'll carry your burdens in my heart. We will strive to be stars- to shine brightly. And on days when the serpent of insecurity rears its ugly head in my own life, I'll remember that it's just a lie. I'll remember that I have a purpose. A purpose to point you to the True Star, the One that loves you, baggage and all, the One who knows the thoughts of your heart that you never voice; the One that has already taken on the world for you and won; The One that will dry all your tears, and is a Father to the fatherless. 

So, for this chapter, this year in your life called "First Grade," and this season in my life, you are my purpose.
You are why I'll be there tomorrow.

Welcome 2015

I wish I could say I had some great epiphany that inspired today's blog. 
I didn't. No revelation. Just reflection.
Reflection as we end one year and begin another.
As a teacher, my "New Year's Eve" really feels like the  night before the first day of school- more of an August to August calendar. 
Even so, I still enjoy looking back, counting down, reminiscing over the past 365 days. I've never been one to really make resolutions. I never can keep them anyway.
So what is the point of this blog? Well, even as I type, I still don't know. 

But I do know this: I want to be different.

Yes, 2014 was a good year. Things I never imagined happened this past year, with the publishing of my book and being able to share Pruitt's story with so many. I pray that was only the beginning.

But there have also been hard moments of the past year. Big and little.
The loss of Jason's precious grandmother. 
Decisions. Disputes. Doctor appointments. Daily life.

It's the daily life that I want to be different. 
As I look back over the year, I ask myself what needs to change and why? Why am I unhappy in my job? Why do certain things bother me? Why is there a pang of discontentment hovering over me? How can I parent better? How can I be a better wife?

My considerations brought me to Galatians 5. 
16-18" My counsel is this: Live freely, animated and motivated by God’s Spirit. Then you won’t feed the compulsions of selfishness. For there is a root of sinful self-interest in us that is at odds with a free spirit, just as the free spirit is incompatible with selfishness. These two ways of life are antithetical, so that you cannot live at times one way and at times another way according to how you feel on any given day. Why don’t you choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated existence?"

There it is: self-interest. Isn't that the main root in us all? Selfishness. Even as far back as in the garden, it was Adam and Eve's selfish desires that brought about their sin. But here, it says so plainly, we cannot live based on how we "feel" one day or the next. Boy, do I try though. And it never works out very well!

The selfishness gets us nowhere. Nothing on this list is appealing in the long run:
19-21 "It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on."

Some things that stand out are "mental and emotional garbage, trinket gods, never satisfied, divided homes." Paul could go on and so could I.
Yet, these are the things that war against us day after day.

So what is the answer?

22-23 "But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely."

This might sound more familiar: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Are you singing the song now?

It's often intrigued me that God starts that list with "love." But in light of 1 Corinthians 13, it shouldn't come as a surprise. The greatest of these is love.
Oh, and it's also the second greatest command, just after loving God first with all of ourselves.

This is what I want. And it begins with love.
Not some kind of hippie-peace-love makes the world go 'round love. That love is temporary, based on feelings.

But the love of Christ. Eternal love. That love should overflow out of me, and to others. When it doesn't, it's because I'm being selfish.
Colossians 3 speaks of this also:
So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that’s where the action is. See things from his perspective.

Resurrection life= Daily life.
It's a struggle. It's "insanity" as Ted Dekker would say. 

It's a race. 

I want to run it well. One day at a time, mercies new every morning. 
I'm so thankful for His faithfulness, because I've given Him plenty of reasons to leave me. But He never has, and He never will. 

Welcome 2015. 

This is 40.

I can't sleep. This is 40? 
No. This is the 3:00 cup of coffee plus the 8:00 diet coke. And the fact that I've always been a night owl.
That hasn't changed.

As I lay in bed tonight, on what's left of my birthday, I thought back to turning 30. That one didn't bother me. This one......just sounds old.
I thought about the differences in once being 30 and now 40.

A four and one year old. That was 30.

Heaven help us- now a 14 and 11 year old. This is 40.

I was changing diapers, watching a lot of Blue's Clues. A new life was soon to be forming within me. Hormones- mine. A loving husband. A different state, a much colder birthday. A new friend that shared my birthday. A mini-van. Toby Mac and Faith Hill. Car seats. A VCR that was still hooked up- it played mostly Elmo, Ice Age, Toy Story. That was 30.

Now, iPads, iPods. A few PG-13 movies. A warm day in a different state. A closer drive to Mama's- better than 8 hours. Did I mention an 8th grader with a girlfriend? A sixth grader. Hormones- theirs and mine. Lecrae and Taylor Swift. New friends with same birthdays. Van long gone. This is 40.

Lightening McQueen and Dora the Explorer. Teaching preschool and then coming home to pre-schoolers. More diapers. Potty training. Making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches- a lot. They both had blonde hair, hers with a few curls. That was 30.

Driving their friends to and fro. He's in the youth group. She's about to be. I teach first grade. I come home to help with Algebra and Science homework. They make their own lunches. The both have brown hair, his with curls.
Developing study habits. Checking their text messages. Having to have "the talk". Did I mention hormones? This is 40.

Reading books to them, not much time to read what I wanted to. Late night TV- after they are asleep.
Me-short hair. Fewer wrinkles. Trying to adjust. 
My life falling apart. 
Planning the funeral of my baby. That was 30.

A coffee drinker. Published book. Finished reading 2 books over Thanksgiving break. Me-long hair. More wrinkles. Still trying to adjust. A loving husband. God bringing beauty from ashes. This is 40.

My life at 30 looked very different than it does today.  
Only ONE thing has stayed the same: the faithfulness of my Lord. I have strayed- at thirty and forty, and all in-between. 
But He has been faithful. His mercies have been new every day. 
I am so grateful for His providence, sovereignty, and protection over us, especially for the past 10 years. There is no doubt that His grace has been sufficient.

I live in the fact that it will continue to be. 
This is 40.