Because He Lives

 

One month ago today was Daddy’s funeral. It was such a difficult, but glorious time. We truly worshipped through our pain and sadness. One of the songs we sang on that day was Because He Lives. The words were so comforting to me then:                     

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.

Because He lives, all fear is gone.

Because I know He holds the future

And life is worth the living just because He lives.

 

Well, we’ve had a whole month of tomorrows so far. I’m so glad that I can live without fear. Now, it’s still painful, and I know that’s normal….at least I’m pretty sure that’s normal. Since I’ve never done this before, I’m still trying to figure it all out. I’ve had so many precious friends love on me and tell me it’s okay to cry, and I do…sometimes without warning. I am so used to keeping it all together. I used to pride myself on being able to go through a day as if nothing was ever wrong...being the one that’s strong for everybody else. I can’t do that now. When I’m asked, “How are you doing?” I find that my typical answer is, “I’m okay, I guess.” Sometimes, I just come right out and say, “Well, today is hard.” I’m trying to find the balance between honestly dealing with how I feel and shutting my brain off. I don’t want people to be afraid to talk to me. It’s just a really awkward position for me, and I never want to make anything awkward for anyone else.

This morning our choir sang Because He Lives. There I was in the middle of the choir right in front of the cameras crying through the song. I thought I would be able to make it, but I was wrong. All I can do is say, I’m human. I am not able to go through this with my brain turned off. I need people to talk to me even if I cry. I wish I could explain all that I feel, but I can’t. My family is so patient…doing what they can for me. I know I’m not the same wife and mama I was just over a month ago. I’m told it will get better. I’m trusting it will. All I know to do is just to go through these emotional waves as they come. Since I’m not even sure how to deal with me, I’m so thankful for my family and friends who continue to encourage me. Thank you for your patience.

God is so good to have given me many special gifts and answers to prayer these past few days. I’ve received some very practical things like, cards, notes, and meals. I’ve also received several answers to prayer…some of which I’m the only one who knew what I had prayed. I know God loves me, and He gives good gifts.

I’ve come to realize that even grief is a good gift. My deep grief reveals the kind of relationship I had with my Daddy. It also reveals the kind of relationship I have with God.

Even though it is painful, and it is not what I would have chosen, I can confidently say that life is worth living because He lives.

I have several friends who are going through some really deep valleys right now. Humanly speaking, it is all very overwhelming. It is hard to face uncertainty, but God is already there. I promise. He is with me right now, and all the tomorrows to come.

Grief is Messy

 

Two weeks ago today, my life and the lives of my family forever changed. In some ways, these past two weeks have been a blur, but in other ways, I feel like we are living a really slow-motion bad dream. I keep describing myself as “feeling fuzzy”. I find it very difficult to focus and concentrate on anything. Writing usually helps, so I’m going to try to make sense of what’s going on in my head by writing about it. 

Here’s the thing...I like order. I’m a rule follower.  I don’t know the rules of grief. Does anyone?

Grief is messy.

I can be totally fine one minute and crying uncontrollably the next. (By the way, mask-wearing and crying are not a good combo.) I have leaky eyes...a few tears will just spill out without warning. I have told my students that if I shed a few tears in front of them, that I will be okay. I don’t want anyone to be afraid to talk to me. It’s okay to talk to me. It’s okay to acknowledge that my life just changed forever. I can’t ignore it, so why should anyone else?

I had the sweetest thing happen at church yesterday. One of the ladies that I’ve really only known over the last couple of years said, “Tell me about your Daddy.” That meant so much to me. I told her, that I could talk for a really long time, and she said, “That’s okay…I want to hear it all.” Well, we didn’t have time for the whole story last night, but it really does help to talk about him.

(If you're interested in knowing more about him, you can see his funeral service here. If you don't have time to see all of it, skip to 37:30 to hear his salvation testimony. We never tired of hearing him tell us.)

The Bible says that we are to comfort others with the same comfort that we have received. I have had so many people who have shared with me their own experiences of losing a father or other close loved one. I am thankful for that.

My school/church family have been supportive. Multiple people stepped in to handle my responsibilities for the week that I was gone. I have had sweet conversations with many people. I have received some tangible gifts that have met exact needs even though no one knew what those needs were.

Our family has received so much amazing love and support from so many people. It has been overwhelming (in a good way). I had no idea we really knew that many people. Of course, we all knew our Daddy was amazing, but we have heard story after story from many others about his affect on their lives. We thank you for sharing those stories with us. Each one brings comfort to our aching hearts.

We are constantly amazed at God’s sovereignty in all of this. There are so many little details that we could list. In the midst of this awful grief we are experiencing, we can truly smile through our tears. God is good. He loves us. He loves Daddy. He is sufficient to meet our every need – physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

Oh, how I miss my Daddy! Heaven is sweeter every day.

Remembering Some Teachers....I've had some great ones!

Yesterday, Google told me it was Teacher Appreciation Week.  (Does the Google Doodle count as a credible news source?)

Anyway, it got me thinking…

When I was growing up, I had this really cool book for recording school memories. Did anyone else have one of these?

I got it out last night and looked through it. There are several places in that book that asked me to complete the sentence, “When I grow up I want to be…” 

The most often repeated answer throughout the book is teacher.  

By the time I reached 10^th grade that entry changed to. “After graduation I hope to…” My answer then was very specifically, “…attend BJU and be a Christian school teacher and a volleyball coach.”

I am so grateful that I was given those heart’s desires (16 years after college). 

Obviously God placed that on my heart from the time I was very young. In retrospect, what He also gave me was great teachers.

Teachers who nurtured my love for school and eagerness to learn.

Teachers who helped me grow in so many areas of life.

Teachers who pushed me to do things that I didn’t think were possible.

Teachers who pointed me to Christ.

Teachers that I can remember and learn from even today.

I have some teachers that I would like to remember and thank today.

Mrs. Maxine Grubbs (2^nd grade)

She is now enjoying Heaven. One of the sweetest people I ever knew. What I remember most about her is that she exuded Christ-likeness. She taught me many practical things about self-discipline and respect – she taught us to stop what we were doing and stand when an important person entered the room (i.e. the principal). She challenged us to memorize I Corinthians 13… and I did….in one evening. (I have always been competitive.) Even as I grew older, I cherished every moment I got to spend with her.

Mrs. Diana Postlewaite (3^rd-4^th grade-1^st semester)

These were the only 3 semesters of my growing up years spent somewhere other than Decatur, AL. We had moved to Jasper, AL (only about an hour away). In my 8 year old mind, we might as well have moved to a foreign country. I was the new kid in this really small school, but all I remember is loving my wonderful teacher. I still love her! She made me feel loved and secure in that new place. We’ve been able to reconnect in recent years as fellow teachers at our regional teacher’s convention. A part of me still feels that same childhood excitement every time I get to see her.

Mrs. Glenda Weldy (7^th grade math)

Fraction pancakes. Combination contests (mental math). An infectious smile. An amazing piano player. A truly joyful spirit. I just loved her so much, and then she moved to Illinois! Thankful that through Facebook, I can see that these qualities of hers are genuine and lasting. She is an amazing educator, and many students in Illinois got to benefit from that, too. Truly an example of using education to show the love of Jesus to everyone she meets.

When you get to Jr/Sr High in a small Christian school setting, you start to have a handful of teachers over and over again….several years and sometimes multiple subjects.  😊

In no particular order…

Mr. Stephen Bender (history)

I had 6^th grade history and 9^th grade history with him. I have always enjoyed history, but he made it all come to life in my mind. I could just see all that he was telling us in my mind’s eye. He is why I try to do the same for my history students today. Now a missionary in Eyemouth, Scotland and married to one of my dearest friends of all time, I am privileged to be able to call him my friend. Thank you, Stephen, for inspiring me to be a teacher of God’s story through history.

Mrs. Sheri Trine (math, volleyball coach)

I loved the short time that I had with her. She allowed me to develop my volleyball skills in some unconventional ways, but they worked. Now, as a coach, if anyone ever kicks a volleyball, I cringe inside because she would always yell, “NEVER KICK A VOLLEYBALL!”  She was my algebra teacher as well, and for a brief instant I considered being a math major…..but well, you have to take a lot more than algebra. Another thing she did, that I do in my classroom today….she kept puzzles on a table in the back of her room. I loved being able to work on the puzzle! Oh, and, PE….she introduced me to Linda Haught aerobics on cassette tape….good times. 😊

Mrs. Leah Simpson (12^th grade - Government/Economics, Speech, English)

I had Mrs. Simpson only one year, but as you can see she taught about half my classes. Since I now teach Government/Economics and Speech, I think back to these classes and Mrs. Simpson quite often. She gave me confidence and a real love for public speaking, not just performance speech. She challenged me to do so many things in that speech class, that I had never even considered doing before. It made having Freshmen speech at BJU a breeze! In government, I appreciated how we looked at current events issues from a biblical perspective….and she brought in a pretty cool guest speaker. We had a local talk radio station, and there was this guy who did a conservative political show in the afternoons. He came to talk to our government class, and then he invited me along with two other students to be guests on his radio show. It was so scary and so much fun! Yep, I’ve been a guest on Sean Hannity’s radio show!

Mrs. JoAnne Spears (Typing, English, Accounting)

Mrs. Spears was more than a teacher. She was our biggest cheerleader (and sometimes, critic.) 😉 Everything she did or said was to bring out the best in us. She pushed us to be excellent in everything we did. She chauffeured us to ballgames in her minivan and cheered for us from the stands. She took many opportunities in class to teach us biblical principles….we called them sermons. These “sermons” happened so often that one time we got hymnals from chapel and had them at our desks. After she gave us our sermon that day, one of the guys got up, asked us to take out our hymnals, and led us in an invitation song.  (We knew she loved us, but that WAS hilarious!) I think she knows, we loved her, too. Mrs. Spears was also my biggest encourager in Fine Arts competitions. I was able to go to Nationals at BJU in 10, 11, and 12^th grades…she drove us there. Those were my college visits before attending after graduation. Thank you, Mrs. Spears, for everything.

Mr. Paul Stowe (Principal, Bible, Chemistry….and other stuff)

Mr. Stowe is a great example of humility and faithfulness. I’ve learned much from him. I loved it when he spoke in chapel. He always stressed practical application of the Bible, which I appreciated to much. It makes it easier to personalize what you are learning.  Chemistry stands out because, well, it’s the only time that I ever had to dive under a table for my protection. Thank you, Mr. Stowe, for your faithfulness to Christian education and a life of ministry.

Of course, this is not an exhaustive list. God used all of my teachers in some way to mold and shape me.

Now, some of you know that my mom is also a teacher, but she was never my official school teacher. However, she was one of the most often used substitute teachers. Although mom was not my “official” teacher, she continues to be one of the people that I look up to the most. She is a wonderful example of how to be a wife, mom, and teacher all at the same time. She is godly and wise, and I still call her when I need help...which is often.

God miraculously provided for me to be able to attend the schools that I did from kindergarten all the way to college. I am forever grateful.

God Still Has a Plan

What an unusual time for all of us right now!

I wanted to take a few minutes just to put my thoughts in one place.

Last Sunday, I began trying to organize/outline all the thoughts swirling in my head. Ironically, I have not had time to sit down and write. While many people have been home looking for something to do, I (along with many other teachers) have spent the past week preparing to continue our school year in a whole new way. It has been challenging, but exciting. It is time-consuming and tedious, but totally worth it. This next week is technically my spring break, but I will be continuing to record lessons for our classes beginning March 30.

A bit of a back story…

This year’s Bible curriculum for my 9^th-10^th grade girls in a study on Faith. It began with a few lessons about who God is, moved to a study of Hebrews 11-12, then ends in the book of James.

I don’t have time to recount all the reasons why I love Hebrews 12:1-3, (you can read that here), but the girls and I have had a great time learning about the practical application of our faith. References to what we were learning popped up everywhere! Now, we have an amazing opportunity to put all these truths into practice.

Back to the present...

Right now we are bombarded with so much information...press conferences, statistics, recommendations of things to do, things to make, things to watch, things to cook…..who knew that being at home could be so overwhelming??

Good news!  God is the source of all truth, and His promises never fail us. Here are some of the truths/promises that I am thinking on lately (in no particular order):

·        His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9)

·        We walk by faith and not by sight. (II Corinthians 5:7)

·        Don’t worry about anything! Pray about everything—with thanksgiving. (Phil. 4:6-8)

·        Focus on God, not my circumstances. (Isaiah 26:3)

·        The powers that be are ordained of God (Romans 13)

·        We are here “for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14)

There are lots that I could say about each of those passages, but here is the main thing that I want to focus on today.

In the book of James we learn that “faith without works is dead.” James was written to believers. In the context of the book, the works are not a means of obtaining salvation, but an evidence of our salvation. So here is my question. During this incredibly difficult time, what evidences of my faith are showing?  Is there enough evidence to prove that I am a Christian?

Right now, there are so many decisions being made by our national, state, and local leaders in government. Our pastors and employers are having to make many difficult decisions. In all of these situations, humanly speaking, nothing is certain. There are so many variables, so many opinions about what we should/should not be doing. Every single decision carries some amount of risk. As with anything, we all approach these situations from different perspectives.

Here is my challenge – No matter our individual perspective or circumstance, let’s respond in a kind, peaceful, Christ-like manner. We can’t let the stress and uncertainty of the world around us dictate our responses. People are looking for comfort and hope…don’t we want someone to look at us and think, “How can they be so calm? I want what they have.” What an opportunity we have to share the good news of the gospel with those who are scared and hurting. We have the answer!

Just last Saturday, I was standing in a really long line at Aldi. The man behind me was so patient and encouraging. He had a smile on his face, and he would stop and talk to those around him. On his way out of the store, he said, “God is always good, and He’s still got a plan for all of us.” I want to be like that man. I want God’s love to overflow my heart, so that others can have hope.

Happy Birthday, Levi!

Today is my youngest son’s 14^th birthday. I’ve been thinking about the events that led up to this day, and I realized that I’ve never really written about it, like I have Zane’s birthday. Levi was my second 3lb preemie. 

A little backstory…

After I had so many critical complications with Zane, I was told that the likelihood of repeating such circumstances was very small. I was very nervous about becoming pregnant again. I waited a while, but then I felt that I was finally open to the idea. After a few months, I became pregnant with Carson, and had a generally uneventful pregnancy. I still had to have a planned c-section 2 weeks before my due date, but she was considered full-term and there were no complications with her at birth. She was born 3 years and 11 days after Zane.

Well, now, I should be fine, right? 

I found out I was pregnant with baby #3 when Carson was 18 months old. I thought for sure that everything would be fine this time, too. The first few months were fine, but around 25-26 weeks, I began to notice extra swelling and some of the same hard-to-explain symptoms that I remembered experiencing during my pregnancy with Zane. I had a different doctor this time, and I immediately told him of my concerns. My blood pressure was monitored very closely, and I was given a different dosage of blood pressure medicine. (After delivering Zane, my blood pressure never normalized, so I was already on medication.)  My blood pressure continued to climb. I was then put on bed rest at home. It’s hard to be on bed rest with 2 small children. We continued to check my blood pressure constantly, and it was not improving. I knew in my heart what was coming…this was still earlier than when Zane was born. I had an appointment to see my doctor, and I just knew what was going to happen. Zane was at kindergarten, and we dropped Carson off at a friend’s house. After visiting the doctor, it was determined that I would be admitted to the hospital for bed rest there. The goal was to get me as close to our due date as possible. I was now at about 28 weeks, and my due date was November 28. 

It’s pretty much a whirlwind in my mind. I spent several days in semi-darkness with no TV, on several meds…nothing was stopping that blood pressure from increasing. Friends and family pitched in to take care of Zane and Carson. I felt so helpless. I was given shots to help the baby’s lungs mature. It was becoming obvious that I would be delivering a baby sooner rather than later. After days of constant monitoring and no improvement, we were told, “tomorrow’s the day”. We couldn’t believe we were about to go through all of “that” all over again. This time was different, though. This time was more like slow-motion. (We had no time to prepare for Zane’s birth.)  I was put on magnesium sulfate again, so I was confined to the bed. As Matt sat next to me, we discussed the fact that our baby had no name. We chose to not know the gender ahead of time with all three of our babies, but we had had not settled on names at all. Before we went to sleep that night, we knew that if we had a boy, he would be Levi Tanner. If it was a girl...well, we would just have to figure something out.  Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary. 

The next morning, I was taken to the OR for my 3^rd c-section. I was very nervous because of all that had happened when I had Zane. Although I was nervous, I was also at peace, because I knew God was with me. There was nothing that I could do to change my circumstances. Levi was born weighing 3 lbs.—just like Zane! This was amazing because Levi was born at 29 weeks and Zane at 31 weeks. Of course, it was a couple of days before I was allowed to see him and hold him. I was on magnesium sulfate for another 2 days. Again, my blood pressure never normalized on its own. I’ve been on blood pressure medicine since. 

Levi would be in the NICU for 6 weeks. It was interesting having to go visit him with Zane and Carson in tow. They were not allowed to see him, so Matt and I would have to take turns going back while the other stayed in the waiting room with the older two. Occasionally, someone would come with us, so that we could go back together. The nurses were so kind. They gave Carson a preemie diaper and baby hat for her baby doll to wear. 

After about 4 weeks, the nurses said that we could take Zane and Carson back to a room with a window looking in to the NICU, and they brought Levi’s bed to the window on the other side, so that they could actually see him. It had been hard to explain that they really did have a baby brother, they just couldn’t see him yet. Finally, on October 30 (a Sunday morning), we got a phone call from the NICU that said we could plan on bringing him home that afternoon. We made arrangements for someone to stay with the kids, so that we could go get him. He came home that day weighing 5lb 12oz. We were so happy to finally have everyone under one roof!

Thankfully, there have never been any long-term complications. Our experiences, while not what we would have planned, have given us many opportunities to encourage other parents of preemies over the past few years…including my own sweet sister, who has two amazing preemie baby stories of her own. We are now praying fervently for her baby #3 due on November 28, just like Levi!

Honoring a Friend: Jason Echols

Sometimes life hums along in a steady rhythm. The days come and go, and we hardly notice.

Then.

Then there are those days when life’s steady rhythm is interrupted in the worst way.

Yesterday, life was interrupted. God wasn’t surprised by it, but we were.

Our dear friend and loved one, Jason Echols, was suddenly taken from this life into the presence of his Savior.

I was shaken. I still am.

I have done much thinking and praying since I received the news.

Why? Why Jason? Why now?

One of the biggest things that I have wrestled with is why, after all these years, am I so affected by this?

It has been nearly 21 years since I moved away from home, and even longer since high school. Why am I so shaken?

We know that we all have different seasons of life. God gives us friends for each of those seasons. Rarely do we have the same friends throughout every season of life.

We had a unique, tightly knit group of friends during our middle and high school years. I loved those years and those people. Jason was an integral part. Time and distance does not diminish the impact our friends have on our lives. 

There are many of us who are scattered about, loosely tied together today through social media that feel like we’ve had a giant hole ripped out of our hearts. That says an awful lot about the kind of friend that Jason was to us. A friendship that could have easily picked right back up where it left off so long ago.

Let me tell you about how I remember Jason.

Jason and I attended the same Christian schools. He was one grade ahead of me. I didn’t know him as well in elementary school, but I did know something about him. I remember going to little league baseball games and watching several people we knew. One of them was Jason. What an athlete he was! I loved sports of any kind, so I loved watching my friends play baseball.

As we grew older, I got to know him better because we were both students at Grace Baptist School. A school small enough that the middle and high school grades all shared the same hallway and lunch room. He was always nice. I really can’t remember anything negative about him.

We eventually became really good friends. We even “liked each other” for a few months, but then decided to just be friends.

And we really were. I respected his opinion. I could talk to him, and he would be honest with me.

He was such a gentleman.

He was an amazing example of what a Christian young man ought to be. He was not afraid to stand up for what was right.

He could sing.

He was an amazing basketball player.

He was passionate about many things.

He was fiercely loyal.

He loved his parents. His parents loved us as if we were their own. I will never forget how he comforted us when his dad went to heaven unexpectedly.

He loved his country. We shared a love of all things historical and patriotic. I still tell my students about his Declamation speech at fine arts: Douglas MacArthur, “old soldiers never die, they just fade away.”

Even after he graduated from high school, he kept in touch. Some of us were asked to be guests on a local talk show. We were scared to death that someone was going to call in and be mean to us. When the day arrived and it was time to take calls, and who was on the line? Jason! What a relief!

My memories of Jason are so happy and good...this picture pretty much sums it up.

Melody, Reagan, and Dawson, I don’t know if you will ever see this, but I want you to know that I am praying earnestly for you. Because of what I know about Jason, I know that you were his whole life. I am praying that you can feel God’s arms wrapped tightly around you.

Jason, I am so thankful that God placed you in my life. Thank you for being such an amazing friend. I know you are enjoying heaven—seeing Jesus and reuniting with your parents—Wow!

We are hurting here.

You wrote these verses in my yearbook 28 years ago….Psalm 18:2-3 – The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from my enemies.

Later on in verse 30 of that same Psalm it says, “As for God, His way is perfect…”

And it is. Whether we understand it or not.

A Different Kind of Race - Fine Arts Competition

It’s the night before our annual fine arts competition. I won’t lie. It’s been a bit stressful these past couple of weeks. While we’ve been busy preparing, I’ve also given this entire process a lot of thought. I have been involved with these types of competitions in various roles for more than 30 years….whoa! I hadn’t thought about the actual number until just now.

I did my first speech for competition as a 6^th grader. I didn’t do it because I loved speaking in front of people. In fact, the thought of an oral book report terrified me. I’ve never really asked, but I imagine that I was asked to do this because I was capable of memorizing the speech, not because I had great stage presence. In fact, I had no stage presence. I did the speech. It was a religious reading. I stood up and said it as fast as I could and sat down. I didn’t win any awards that day, but I got something even better. Because I had a teacher who asked me to stretch myself and pushed me out of my comfort zone, I realized that I could stand up and speak and live to tell about it.

Over the next few years, I continued to participate. Each year, I would improve, but still no prizes. Why did I keep doing it? There is something very satisfying about the process. The memorizing and practicing aren’t always exciting, but on competition day…to stand up in front of a crowd and present what my family was probably sick of hearing, felt good. I felt accomplished…whether or not I won a trophy at the end of the day. 

My senior year, I finally won the actual prize…first in 2 different speech categories. The prizes were nice, but the lasting results of experiencing that process over and over again have helped me in so many ways throughout my life….perseverance, hard work, team work, dealing with disappointment, enjoying success, understanding that God’s will isn’t always my way…all of those things have helped me be a better adult.

I had many people who encouraged me along the way. Thank you!

Since those high school days, I have been the encouraging sibling, the mom, the teacher, the coach, and the judge of many other speech contestants. Some things have changed over these 30 years, but that process remains the same. There’s something else that hasn’t changed – that feeling of accomplishment when it all comes together.

Over these next two days I will attend many different speech and music events—some as mom, some as teacher, some as coach. I will enjoy listening to the results of the grueling process. There will be a huge sense of accomplishment and relief, but at the end of the day, not everyone is going to get a physical prize. What they will get—whether they realize it now or not—is the benefits of being refined by the process.

And, if at the end of the day, you see me shedding tears….it won’t be because I’m sad about “losing.” I usually end up crying because I think about all of these students and all the hard work, and it’s very emotional for me. My tears are a mixture of relief and joy. Then I go home, rest, and soon I’m ready to start this whole process over again.

I am so proud of my children and all the students who have worked so hard to get to this point. It’s not easy to put yourself out there to be critiqued by others. Whether you win a prize or not…you have benefited from this process. Learn from this year, and don’t stop trying!