The Influence and Love of My First Grade Teacher

My five-year-old was reading aloud to me yesterday when she stopped herself and said, “Mama, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to read like you do.”  Relief and hope seemed to fill her when I told her, “Guess what?  You’re already ahead of me.  I didn’t even know how to read when I was your age.  When I was in school, most of us (including me) didn’t learn to read until first grade.  So you see, one day you are definitely going to be able to read as well as I can.”

Miss Pam taught me how to read.  She is the one who unlocked and opened wide that door for me—and not only for me but for probably about a thousand children.  My first grade teacher is retiring this year after forty-two years of teaching first grade.  Let me say that one more time—FORTY-TWO YEARS TEACHING FIRST GRADERS—always first graders since August of 1973.

And I bet we can count on one hand how many times Miss Pam raised her voice in those forty-two years.  You know when you’re about to experience pain, such as getting stitches or a big shot, and the nurse tells you to think calming thoughts (like thoughts of the beach)?  I could just think about Miss Pam’s voice—kind and calming.  I can still hear her reading Charlotte's Web to us at the end of the day, her voice, like gently rolling waves, rolling over little malleable hearts.  Everyone with whom I grew up knows that voice.  When I hear preaching on the balance between love and discipline, grace and law, I think of Miss Pam.  She held that balance beautifully in her voice (and in her heart too, of course).

Even though I couldn't yet read, I walked into that first-grade classroom with a good bit of six-year-old confidence because I had known Miss Pam (or she had known me) since I came out of the womb.  She was in our church family and was married to Cousin Morgan.  Since her husband and I shared the same name (that of his father as well as his great-grandfather who was my great-great grandfather Morgan Adams), I was feeling pretty good about the fact that I was going to be special to my first grade teacher right off the bat.  And that’s what every kid wants—to feel particularly noticed and loved by their teacher.  While I felt especially loved by Miss Pam every day of that whole year, I know that every little child in that classroom felt especially loved too.  That, my friends, is a spiritual gift—to be able to encourage children of every temperament and leave each of them feeling valued.

In short, Miss Pam lives the gospel day in and day out for her students.  What does it mean to live the gospel?  It means you show love, as Christ did, to a whole lot of undeserving “knuckle heads.”  Or as the Apostle Paul would explain, “For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘LOVE your neighbor as yourself’” (Galatians 5:14 NIV, emphasis mine).

I’m sure she would shake her head in disagreement, but Miss Pam’s character gives me a precious glimpse into the character of Christ.  When I read these words in Philippians, I think of her:   “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.  Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.   In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus . . .” (Philippians 2:3-5 NIV).

Miss Pam is truly humble and joyful—not selfishly ambitious or overly concerned with herself but always genuinely interested in the other person, comfortable in her own skin and finding true contentment in loving the children to whom God has called her.  I said it back in 1988, and I’m still saying it:  “I want to be like Miss Pam when I grow up.”

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”  He took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me . . .”
(Mark 9:35-37a NIV).

An Idea for Your Women's Ministry

We had a “prayer brunch” for the women at our church on Saturday. “Prayer brunch” might lead one to think, “Women in their pretty dresses, bringing in warm breakfast casseroles, a lot of talking and maybe a little bit of prayer.”  Other than the “warm breakfast casseroles” part, the other couldn’t be farther from the truth.  We gathered, we ate, I read Acts 2:42, and I reminded them of why we were there:

“All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper) and to prayer…” (Acts 2:42 NLT).

(See!  The eating part is Biblical after all.)  Then, our leader for the brunch had each woman write on an index card how we could be praying for her (and leave it anonymous).  We threw the little cards in the same basket, and one by one a woman would draw the card out, read it, and then pray aloud right then and there for that woman whose card she drew.

I’m glad my friend was leading instead of me because I always do this thing in which I try to make everyone feel comfortable and say, “You don’t have to pray out loud if you don’t want to…”  But she didn’t say that.  She didn’t force anyone to pray out loud, but she also didn’t let everyone off the hook either.  Of course, the Lord’s hand was in it—emboldening weary or anxious women.  One by one almost every woman in the room prayed out loud—powerful prayers from seemingly timid souls.   Those small, perfectly lined index cards contained big, messy prayers from women believing in an uncontainable God.  There were spiritually bleeding hearts poured out on those cards—hearts begging for humility, for patience, for wisdom, for boldness in their witness, for freedom from addiction, for hearts that love their families and other people more than they love themselves.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. . . .
Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.–Matthew 5:3, 8 NIV

The Spirit of God fell and filled that little Sunday school room, and for a little Saturday morning get-together we enjoyed a great unity that can only be found in Christ.  I tried to wrap it up at 12:00 p.m.  I had promised the ladies we would finish at 12:00, but they didn’t want to quit, so for another hour or so we prayed – this time not for ourselves but for our nation – prayers of repentance, for our persecuted brothers and sisters in places all over the world, and for the dark culture that we live in – a culture that masquerades as fun and filling but leaves people abandoned and empty.

The whole thing was simply beautiful.  Young women, older women, single women, married women, poor women, rich women, feisty women, quiet women—I think the only common denominators for all of us were “women” and “Christian.” It was like being wrapped up in the most beautiful patchwork quilt you’ve ever seen—radiant hearts of unique individuals sewn together to make something beautiful, purposeful, and lasting.

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
(Jesus, Matthew 18:20 NIV)

To God be the glory!

12 Tips for Having a Great Sunday

The small town in which I grew up shut down on Sundays, and I think we were better off for it.  One of our two grocery stores didn’t open at all, and the other was open only from 12:00 to 6:00 p.m.  The downtown streets were empty.  All of life slowed way down.  Sundays were for worship, eating, fishing, and naps.  Sounds awesome, doesn’t it?!

When I moved here, I was sad to see all these people rushing here and there on Sundays as if it were any other day.  There was no holy space—at least not the kind that was markedly noticeable by the whole community—not even good peer pressure that made people SLOW. DOWN. and REST.  When everyone else is racing around, it’s easy to get caught up and race around that silly gerbil wheel yourself.  That little wheel is going nowhere, but that little life is getting worn slap out.

I’m not a full-blown "legalist," by the way.  I have been known occasionally to go to a restaurant on Sundays or to the grocery store if the “ox is in the ditch” as the Biblical metaphor goes.  But I really think a small dose of legalism about it would do me some good.  (And yes, I’m aware that the real Hebrew Shabbat is from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday.)

As a refresher for us, here’s what God told Moses and the Hebrew people:  “Remember to observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. ⁹ You have six days each week for your ordinary work, ¹⁰ but the seventh day is a Sabbath day of rest dedicated to the Lord your God. On that day no one in your household may do any work. This includes you, your sons and daughters, your male and female servants, your livestock, and any foreigners living among you” (Exodus 20:8-10 NLT).

Yeah, this is on that BIG TEN LIST – right there alongside those others we hold more dearly—honor your father and mother, don’t lie, steal, murder, commit adultery.  Somehow we hold exception to just this one—at best it’s inconvenient and weird, and at most it’s costly.

My pastor and dear friend always likes to remind me of what Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made to meet the needs of people, and not people to meet the requirements of the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27 NLT).

But my question is this, “What if we DO let Sabbath meet our needs?  What if we let God meet our needs the way God designed our needs to be met?”  The One who is the Author of us is the Author of rest.  When we wrestle on without ever resting, I dare say we wrestle ourselves right to an empty defeat that God never intended for us.

So from one busy gerbil to another, here’s how to have a great Sunday:

1. Plan ahead on Saturday (or Friday if your Sabbath is on Saturday). Not my original idea—it’s God’s.   “This is what the Lord commanded: Tomorrow will be a day of complete rest, a holy Sabbath day set apart for the Lord. So bake or boil as much as you want today, and set aside what is left for tomorrow” (Exodus 16:23).
2. Plan your grocery time for anytime other than Sunday.
3. When you meal plan, consider a crockpot meal or leftovers for Sundays. If you really want to get into it, use paper plates so you don’t have to wash so many dishes!!
4. Lay out clothes for Sunday (iron, mend) on Saturdays. Get the diaper bag (or other church paraphernalia) by the back door on Saturday nights.  If you’re ready the night before, you’re less likely to get flustered and yell at the kids before church or to shirk going altogether!
5. Go ahead and think about Monday on Saturday. Do whatever’s got to be done for Monday then—homework, meal plan, lesson plans.
6. Set your alarm (ouch, I know) so that when Sunday arrives, you get up in time to pray before getting ready for worship. It always makes for a more enriching worship time.
7. Go to worship! Obviously.
8. If the family needs a nap that afternoon, make everyone take one! (or at least have a quiet time in their rooms)
9. If you don’t want to nap, do something Re-Creation-al. True recreation isn’t something that just numbs you (e.g. lame tv shows) but something that really re-creates the you that God made you to be (drawing, painting, writing, fishing, walking, reading, etc.).
10. OR do something as a family that connects you with one another in a fun way (play games, play outside). Sundays should be a time toward which every one of every age looks forward.  To be a holy day means it’s a set-apart day—a good kind of different from the other six days.
11. When you’re tempted to do laundry (or ______ fill in the blank with daily, ordinary work), write down all the tasks you’re dying to do, and ask yourself if it’s really worth it or can it wait until tomorrow night (or lunch break if you get one of those or early morning or maybe even next Saturday).
12. Stay out of stores and away from internet shopping on Sundays—they just make us want stuff that we probably don’t need, spend money we probably don’t have, and most of all rob us of holy time and meaningful experiences with the people we love.

A new habit takes practice.  Just try it.  Practice a new holy habit this week!

If you create a new Sunday habit, share it in the comments section.

What Your Spouse/Friend/Child Really Needs for Valentine's Day

If I make heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast but have not LOVE, I am just a clanging cymbal.

If I decorate my house with cute little Pinteresty Valentine stuff, but have not LOVE, I would be a noisy gong.

If I homeschool, spending all day everyday with my children teaching them constantly, but have not LOVE, I am nothing.

If I feed my children five times a day but have not LOVE, I would have gained nothing.

If I change diapers, read them sweet and wonderful books, brush their teeth twice a day, potty train, clean up their messes, teach them to clean their messes, play outside, take them to church, to the nursing home, to the library, give them my full attention but have not LOVE . . .

“If I had such faith that I could move mountains but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.  If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained NOTHING” (2 Corinthians 13:2b-3).

But if I do all these things day in and day out, surely that’s evidence that I do love my children!  But this is not about proving a case of how much we love our children.  If you think through this little list of things, you can imagine yourself doing them with a grouchy attitude and a frustrated “my-kids-are-so-unappreciative” grimace, OR you can imagine a woman who keeps loving, smiling, hugging, training her children, a woman who expects that yes, they’re going to behave like entitled little wretches until she deliberately, daily trains them to love as she loves.  I want to be that woman.

Real LOVE, the God-sized love, is always self-giving in nature.  As Martin Luther taught, it’s the heart curved out rather than the heart curved in on itself.  That’s what Christian discipleship (including motherhood) is—a heart curved out training little hearts to curve out instead of curving in on themselves.  Part of the frustration with ourselves (or with our children) is that we can’t fully “train” a heart to curve out; no, God Himself has to bend that heart right out by the power and presence of His Spirit.

A thousand times a day I make choices and have reactions that affect other people (usually three little people), and those reactions show which way my heart is curved.  All that I can do is bend to Him, and He bends my heart.  I’m so bad at this thing—this agape love thing—that lately I’ve been trying to bend to Him every half hour.  As Frank Laubach, a busy missionary to the Philippine Islands wrote, “I have started out trying to live all my waking moments in conscious listening to the inner voice, asking without ceasing, ‘What, Father, do you desire said?  What, Father do you desire done this minute? . . . Can a man working at a machine pray for people all day long, and at the same time do his task efficiently?  Can a mother wash dishes, care for the babies, continuously talking to God?”*

So far, I give this every-thirty-minute thing a good effort and fall off the wagon by nine a.m.  But I’m enjoying getting back on the wagon and deliberately turning to Him again.

It’s early morning, and my little ones just stumbled sleepy-eyed into my room, so to choose LOVE in this moment means I quit this writing and turn to what God has put in front of me here and now.  Here goes turning to the Grace-filler throughout this day to do in me that which I can’t do on my own!

Let love be your highest goal!1 Corinthians 14:1a NLT

Happy Valentine’s Day!

* Laubach, Frank.  “Letters by a Modern Mystic.”  Devotional Classics.  Ed.  Richard J. Foster and James Bryan Smith.  San Francisco:  Harper, 2005.  101-107.  Print.