Author: Gigi

I taught middle school for 33 years and retired in 2007. I'm enjoying my journey and loving the time I have with my three granddaughters who call me "Gigi." I want to share my journey with them and with anyone else interested in sharing the lessons God has for me on this amazing journey.

Daddy’s Coming!!

I watched the girls yesterday afternoon while Tyler got tires for his truck. I’m used to seeing them squeal with delight when mommy comes home, but I’ve never had the privilege of seeing them greet daddy. It warmed my heart as I witnessed the sweet homecoming.

After a long afternoon of playing together and eating some pasta, I could tell the girls were getting tired. Around five, Tyler said he was almost there. I told the girls that daddy was coming, and they ran to the window next to the door and stood together waiting. As I looked at them looking and waiting and calling out, “Daddy’s coming!” and “DAA?” I smiled and thought how I should have the same posture and joy when it comes to Christ. Suddenly, they were energized and waiting together for something wonderful.

When daddy’s truck pulled in front of the window, they looked at each other and squealed with delight as if Santa himself was arriving on the lawn. Actually, I suppose he was:) When Tyler opened the door, my heart melted as I watched the girls looking up and calling out as if they hadn’t seen him in a month. He smiled that beautiful smile of his, hugged Lillyann, and picked up Mylah. He had great news! Mommy was right behind him. Again, those squeals of delight filled the room! I couldn’t help but join in myself:)

The lesson the little ones taught yesterday was about expectant joy. Too often, I allow the rough fingers of this world to make my heart weary. I should get in the window where the sun is shining brightly and squeal the good news that Christ is coming!!  I plan to keep the sweet image of those two precious girls standing in the sunlight searching for daddy’s truck near my heart when I get weary in the future.

Sitting on the Shelf

The china doll looks down

Wanting to play on the floor.

She sees the other toys

And wishes she could join in.

Rain

Sprinkles softly causing me to pause.

Falls steadily causing me to stare.

Pours heavily causing me to duck.

Stops suddenly causing me to smile:)

Seriously?

I went to a luncheon for senior adults today. Someone challenged me and asked what I was doing there because it was for seniors. I proudly told them my age much the same way I did when carded for buying alcohol in the early seventies. I am proud of my age and all the discounts that come with it:) I’m counting down excitedly the way I did at fourteen because I can’t wait to get Social Security! It’s even better than getting a driver’s license. Of course, I may not say that when my license is taken away for being too feeble to focus.

Being a senior is a serious matter to some, and I do notice that things are changing:) My body doesn’t move as fast as it once did, and my mind is like a cluttered desk much of the time; but I’m loving the freedom I have.  Getting older means grandchildren, and I thank God for the privilege of being able to help with my sweet grandbabies. They keep me young, but I also feel my age after carrying Mylah or trying to keep up with Lillyann. What a joy those aches have become.

Retirement allows time to study and read and write, and I love doing all three.The learning over the past four years has been the most powerful to date. My head and my heart have been stretched beyond what I could have ever imagined as I delve into God’s Word in a way I cannot describe. Having the time and opportunity to do that makes getting older a blessing.

Falling into seriousness was the topic of the luncheon today, and Jack Hinson said it was the definition of sin according to the speaker at a lecture series he attended. He warned of the dangers of taking myself too seriously. The Baptist in me felt the need to repent as I’m very guilty of doing just that. Seriousness is important when it comes to a task, a job, or an appointment. I want my surgeon and my banker to be serious as they operate on my body or invest my money. I need to be serious about what I do, but not about who I am. There’s a big difference, and that’s where sin sneaks in.

It’s that pesky little self that gets in the way when it comes to seriousness. Self can always use a dose of silly, especially when hurt, angry, or weary. Laughter lets down my guard and lets in healing. It has been proven to be effective in the healing process, and there is even a branch of medicine called Humor Therapy. That doesn’t surprise me at all because I know I always feel better after a good belly laugh, and that sweet sigh that comes afterward releases tension like nothing else. I believe it is your body asking your self, “Seriously?:)” and self giving in and laughing along:)

I also know the opposite is true. When I cry, even for a little while, I am physically and emotionally spent. My head and heart ache, and I feel as though I’ve been wrung completely dry. There are different studies on crying. It can be a release and a relief, but it can also bring tension, sinus troubles, and stress. I think the difference must be if there is an end to suffering in sight. If there is none, the hurt gets worse. If there is, then crying gives relief. My head still hurts, so I suppose that’s not a good sign. It does help to have someone hear your heart and be a loving presence even if you know the hurt isn’t going away. A true friend offers a shoulder and feels your pain. I believe it is in the sharing that both laughter and crying offer healing.

I just can’t help myself when it comes to crying or laughing. Both are important release valves God put in place to help me deal with stress, and laughter gets rid of that serious little self that wreaks havoc on my heart and messes with my mind. I thank God for laughter and for tears. They remind me that I am human and that Christ shares the same flesh and knows the pain and joy that comes with it. That is a marvelous mystery that makes me mindful of the love that He expressed with His flesh. I am eternally grateful to have a Savior who laughed and cried just as I do. That changes the way I love and live my life.

Heart and Soil

Clay pot

Broken and forgotten.

Mud pie

Stirred and left to dry.

China vase

Admired and put away.

Fertile field

Plowed and allowed to yield.

Pride

Some say pride comes before a fall

I say that order is all wrong.

The fall comes first and then the call

Of pride who sings an angry song.

Thank You, I Think:)

Teaching middle school for thirty-three years gave me a great appreciation for the English language. I love the way middle schoolers use words, and nothing thrills me more than seeing the transformation that takes place in eighth grade as those young teens begin to understand the nuances of language and learn to express themselves in ways that make sense to them and to others. They leave the dense fog in which they’ve been trapped for three years and start to take ownership of words. Until that transformation, language is a challenge for them and for those with whom they communicate.

I especially remember compliments I would get from students who dearly loved me but had difficulty putting their good intentions into words. I believe good intentions actually do pave the road to perdition, but those middle school good intentions always made me smile. Once, when I changed my hairdo, a young man told me that my hair didn’t look nearly as bad as it did before. I paused for a moment and quickly said thank you, but in my head I added I think:) I got lots of those middle school compliments, mostly about my age and my hair. I accepted them as sincere efforts at being polite and practice in expressing themselves effectively. The words “for your age” usually began or ended their attempts. Once I realized that middle school students clump everyone over thirty into the same category, my pride was appeased.

The only thing that matters about words of encouragement or compliments is the heart handing them to you. Those students were sincere and loving, so I was thankful for each one. The same comments are not nearly as endearing when they come from adults, but it’s still the nature of the one speaking that is important. Good natured folks often say things that cause me to bristle, but I just remember those middle schoolers and say what we always say in the south. “Bless your heart!” If you’re from the south, you understand. If you aren’t, it would take too long to explain:)

Words carry great power and should be taken seriously, especially when I’m angry. I tend to let my anger get the best of me when my pride is bruised or my heart is broken. I say things I don’t mean but fortunately it is usually only the walls who witness my weakness. I’m thankful to have close friends who hear my heart and listen to my hurt pride without judging. A loving response helps me find perspective.  Pride steps aside as the voice of reason enters the heart. Humor also helps when I get a response that reminds me of my middle school days:)

I do miss being around middle schoolers, but reminders of those sideways compliments and twisted words of encouragement put me right back in the beautifully upside down world where words just don’t come out the way one expects. So to all compliments made by those who haven’t quite mastered the nuances, thank you, I think:)

Moonlight

Reflecting the sun

Filling the night sky, moonlight

Dispels the darkness

A Blind Hog and an Acorn:)

I always have been a very slow learner when it comes to life lessons. Book knowledge flows in effortlessly, but I find the obvious difficult to absorb. I suppose it’s why daddy called me stupid and why I keep getting blindsided. I am an incurable optimist who sees life through rose colored glasses. That works except when it comes to those unexpected lessons, then I feel like a football player flat on my face in front of the crowd after being blindsided. I get the wind knocked out of me on a regular basis, but hope still springs eternal. I usually dust myself off, laugh with the crowd, and get back on the field.

There is an old saw that says, “Even a blind hog will eventually find an acorn.” That pretty much sums up the lessons last week.  Those who know me well, know that when I finally do get it, I don’t forget it! Learning may come slowly in some areas, but lessons learned the hard way stay with my heart. The best learning comes when I find myself face down. I cannot learn those hard lessons from reading books or listening to a lecture. They can only come from living. I’ve had many such lessons along the way. Some leave me laughing, and some leave me crying. Both leave me with resolve and an acorn of truth.

Mylah and Lillyann taught a powerful lesson in perspective yesterday. I needed the lesson and the distraction, and they gave it as only children can. God pulled me off the field this time for a serious talk. I know He has wonderful plans in store for me, and He’ll keep using those sweet little tutors as He gives me the opportunity to learn and grow alongside them. Mama warned me over and over that I wasn’t like everyone else, and that was going to hurt me. She realized I had inherited her very large blindside.

Seeing the truth is the only way to be free, but it blindsides when I’m not heedful. The trick is to come off the field, take that acorn of truth God places in my path, and plant it deeply in my heart. The process humbles but reminds me to listen, trust, and obey God. Unlike me, He does know what He’s doing.