I’m there. I’ve realized all the life experiences I have to offer in the form of advice to the younger generation are usually pushed aside as nonsense. Of course, I was likely much the same when I was younger, but it breaks my heart to see them make mistakes that could have been avoided. Make better, more informed decisions is all I can say. . .or I just remain silent and let them make their own mistakes. Probably like I did.
I was once told that all my past was turned into fuel to propel me into my future. It took me several years to realize that what I learned from the past has done just that. God has given me one thing that I use to fight through the depression that I came through and still sometimes deal with.
That one thing is the realization that God says I’m worthy enough to redeem. Behind that is the reality that I am worth something and that something is Him and His faith residing in me. We are all vessels and what we fill our vessels with is how we look at ourselves.
If we empty out the past (fuel burns you know) and fill the emptiness left with His presence we will indeed feel His power and His declaration that we are worthy of His plan of salvation.
NewsBreak is a news source I get notifications from daily. There are sometimes events that go against my Chrisitan faith and I will comment. Without fail, I will get assailed by non-believers for my stance.
The comments come in a wide range of thoughts from the idea there is no God to I need to take my meds. One comment was there is no God, just Mother Nature. Who is Mother Nature anyway? Oh, could I run a rabbit trail on this mist of an entity. Every known civilization has their version from the Norse, Greek, Roman and even the Algonquian Indians take on Mother Nature.
What we need to know is God does exist. This statement can be spoken and that really is all that is needed for some, but I can cite time after time that God has proven Himself to me in my seventy three years of existance. Wanna go for a mental ride with me for a bit?
From my earliest years I grew to know my mom’s dad who was a Baptist preacher. He lived a good existance to almost eighty years. He was a man of small stature. At just a little over five feet tall I
found him a giant behind the pulpit. He knew God. When he had come to the point of not being able to get around without a walker he still held his head high. Then one morning upon his rising from bed he said God spoke to him to put aside his walker. He would no longer needed it. In his faith he rose not to use the walker ever again.
When I was about twelve or thirteen I heard God speaking to me that I was also called to ministry. From then on I knew it was to be an evangelist. My problem was I did not know exactly the truth of what that entailed. From that day on until I was sixteen everytime an altar call was given to give my heart to God would bring upon me an unrelenting need to answer, yet I held back. Then at sixteen I finally let go of the back of the pew in front of me and walked down the aisle to the preacher one June night in 1966. It was phenominal how it happened as I took my first step from the pew, but I don’t remember the rest of the walk. I seemed to regain myself awareness once I stood before the preacher and answered his question as to my coming forward. From there I told God before I went to sleep that night He better come right then because I knew I could not live up to the Biblical standards I had heard of up to that time referring to perfection. Remember that word.
I quickly let my hormones take hold of me and that propelled me for many years. I had many misadventures with a girl that might lead one to a jail term in this day and age. I thought I loved her and in my own way I did, but it was more from lust than love.
The next step came when God separated me from this young girl by taking me in the draft during Vietnam. Even then He saw to it I did not go to Vietnam. I was kept safely away in Germany during my active duty time. Then came another mistake.
During my time overseas I had met a young lady that I deemed safe from the woes of life. It was another mistake. I should never have married her, yet merely two months after active duty I married her anyway. For the next thirty seven years I tried to make it work, but my jobs kept me from really getting to understand kept me from actually coming to a conclusion. During that whole time I was looking for a woman that met my standards.
Even at that God worked in me to lead me to commit to Him at the age of twenty seven. I had been unknowingly suffering from depression and He brought me out of it by making me aware of His desire for me to let Him lead me. The following years were tumultuous. God molding me was a very hard thing for me to endure.
During that time in my thirties my dad had suffered heart attacks and strokes. During one of those times he told me I would not live past age sixty. I knew God had other plans for me and I told him so. Sixty was not my end. He made it to age sixty and died two months later from congestive heart failure. I, being the eldest of five sons, then proceeded to see the loss of three of my brothers in their fifties. One remaining brother is now in his early to mid fifties and tells me that he is old for his lifestyle. My decision on this alone tells me God is with me since I am now seventy three and I am still a functioning adult.
When I was thirty seven I was diagnosed with high blood pressure due to mental stress. The doc telling me that 195/126 was too high made me sit up and take note. From that time on I sought regular doctor visits and my health maintenance years started. Still I was not easy to live with. Life was still not coming into full focus for me.
Then God blessed me with a Federal Civil Service job that I would spend the next twenty eight years in until I retired. There was a lot of rushing might waters that ran under that bridge. I was tested with my first hospital stay as well as financial ruin. Surprisingly I found myself growing more able to handle situations I would have folded under in my earlier years.
Through my forties was the most foundational in growth. I worked two jobs for sixteen years finally paring back to just civil service in my early fifties. I was learning to cope, but I suffered from my inability to stop looking for the woman I thought I should really be with. By this time I had young adult sons (two). My wife at the time and I were beginning to see the erring of our marriage and we constantly argued. She attempted to leave me a couple of times and I talked her into staying thinking in the fashion of my upbringing of “once married, always married”. I should have let her go. Still my wandering eye kept me looking until I found myself in trouble and tried to settle with where I was to serve some unknown sentence for the rest of my life in a loveless marriage.
Then one December day I received an email from a woman that I did not know. Seems she had been reading my blog by the entreatment of her friend. It was because of entertwining past events that brough this to pass. God was at work again. The friend was a mutual school classmate from decades before. This woman had been a high school friend of my brother. We hit is off right away. Both of us being in deadend marriages left out spouses shortly afterward. Some of you reading this will have negative feelings about this, but take note I was not too sure about this direction in my life either.
This time in my life from age fifty six to oh say around sixty I was totally torn apart and rebuilt. I was told I’d had a heart attack only to find out it wasn’t and there was absolutely nothing wrong with my heart as had been alluded to in my early fifties. I still carry a false positive for a left inferior infarct to show for it.
Now after almost fifteen years later I can look back and see God’s hand in it all. As soon as I became separated I was taken from a dead end civil service job and practically given a position that lasted the remaining seven years of my career two grades higher. Through a series of manuevers I did not instigate I regained my home while my first wife moved back to her hometown. I didn’t get out of this divorce without judgment however. I ended up with a decree to pay alimony for the remainder of my first wife’s life. Still, God has blessed my “now” wife and I with financal security to live above even that judgment. I did loose all my savings in the divorce, yet God even blessed us with financial blessing beyond the loss.
My wife of now and myself have been married now for eight years. Happily I might add. During our time together we started back to church and after a time in two other churches we settled in number three. In this church we have found ourselves in God’s hands. We have both corrected our ways and sought forgiveness. Presently we have both been ordained to full rights of ministry in the state and our church. I have become an accredited Chaplain and she has been in charge of a ministry in our church.
I counsel with couples and help with people in situations that have overcome them. My wife leads a group of people called the 50+ Group. I see whoever as necessary and her group if well over thirty people.
If you tend to think I’m not worthy of my calling remember Paul was Saul till his blinding call on the road to Damascus. He was going to deliver a fist full of warrants to Christians. Being stopped cold in his tracks he came to know Jesus. I’ve surely not lived that experience, but rest assured my wife and I are solid in our walk. What we’ve been through has given us a spiritual backbone that does not bend to the world’s view of Christianity.
There are so many sub-stories to this one I haven’t the time presently to write here. Those experiences are the mortar in the brick foundation of our walk. I have to laugh at people who rail upon me for being a believer. Go ahead. It doesn’t move me. I will not bow or bend to the level of the spiritually destitute of a dying world.
Even at that my heart is heavy for the lost, but I can only present the truth and hope God sparks life into it to move these naysayers into a real life.
I’ve always said that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. But after reading the following, you’ll see what I just realized.
Cheyenne
“Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.
“I saw the car, Dad. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.”
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts…. dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon .. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article…”
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me.
I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?” The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.” He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you’re going to kill him?”
“Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. “Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!” I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!”
Dad ignored me. “Did you hear me, Dad?” I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw…
Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at is feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad ‘s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne ‘s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.
The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.
And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
“I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article… Cheyenne ‘s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter… his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father… and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second chance.
God answers our prayers in His time… not ours…
God doesn’t give us what we can handle, He helps us handle (stands with us, and gets us thru) what we are given. In other words, God’s Grace keeps Pace with what we Face!!
Aren’t you glad you read this to the end ?? Please say “Yes” if you did
—–2 Corinthians 12:9
This is a story that touched me since I can see in a dog’s eyes that they have a soul and they communicate with us in their own way with unconditional love. They give us a lesson that comes from a Biblical principle we can learn from.
Whether you’re Christian or scientific by faith or nature, death always has had a fascination with everyone either by fear or consolation. It is an inevitability. It is only the loss of the physical body. As a Christian, I believe in the transformation of an individual from the body to the eternal realm of existence. What that may look like until the resurrection is anyone’s interpretation. As I was studying this morning a particular scripture somehow, I got directed to the linked article. It doesn’t particularly lie in the Christian realm of thought, but in principle it speaks to the process in science. Make you own conclusion.
I’ve not been writing much lately. The summer projects consumed my wife and me. We built a deck and my wife is trying to finish up her sidewalk project. A friend came and put in the sliding glass door for our deck entrance to the dining area of our home. In doing these things the feel of our home has changed.
I’m driving a school bus for a middle school and an elementary school. It is interesting to say the least and probably consumes most of my time during the day. My kids are trying, but I love them all.
My wife and I stay busy together as well. She heads a group of over forty older folks called the 50+ Group. We meet once a month for a lunch and devotional and sometimes we all meet somewhere for breakfast. I’m apt to be called upon to do things like premarital counseling in-house or I’ll encounter someone during my day that just needs to bend my ear and get whatever is eating at them off their chest.
I don’t study sufficiently, but I still attempt to do my best. I’ve just eased off a deeper study of the Old Testament and Book of Enoch I. I’m now finding that much of the Book of Revelations has already been fulfilled. I can say I’m digesting it all for a time.
I celebrated my 73rd birthday a couple of weeks ago. It is amazing how God has blessed me with life. My recent visit to my regular doctor confirms I’m still doing well. I am discovering however that I am going to have to accept that I’m not capable of doing things I didn’t give a thought about doing even a year ago. The thing I’ve discovered as well is that when I was young death was a fearful thing, but not any longer.
I’ve grown to understand death of the body to be only a stepping stone into the eternal realm in the most real way. We all hear about it and talk about it, but something inside of me has changed. I no longer fear death. It is the final act in this finite realm which I consider my graduation from boot camp. This life is where we learn how to deal with circumstances in every concievable way. It’s a journey of growth and maturity. The Bible speaks of us becoming perfect as He is perfect. I think we missed an important facet of what is being said.
Matthew 5:48 – Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.
The Greek word for “perfect” means complete (in various applications of labor, growth, mental and moral character, etc.), completeness:–of full age, man, perfect. G5056
To boil that down, it simply means we should grow up. Our reason for this life is to develop our mental and moral character. It is saying in essence we will stumble, fall, and come short, but growth comes in getting up and brushing off the dusty mistakes and continuing to move ahead having learned our lesson and not repeating that issue ever again.
God’s character is mature in every way and all He is asking is that we attempt to achieve as near to His level as possible. In doing so we come to an understanding of who He is as our Father and maker. I want to know Him. I don’t care about all the benefits of knowing Him. I want to know Him. I can come down with a terminal disease or some lesser maladay and I would be more interested in His will in the matter. I would not be asking or begging for healing. I would be asking for a closer more sincere knowledge of who He is to me.
I have written about this in the past yet I cannot fathom the depth of what He has done for me. In the ending years of my life He has given me abundance of days. He has given me an abundance of all the things I need. Oh, it’s not like I’m still doing handsprings across my yard. I am getting old, but I sense a fulfillment in who I am. Having a dad that told me I would not make it past age 60 was nothing more than a challenge in saying that’s not for me. Even to look back as being the oldest of five sons and know I’m missing three of my younger brothers that all died in their 50’s and the remaining one is nearing his mid-fifties and not really intending to stay at his best health. God told me all that was required of me was to do His will. That I’ve have tried to do as best I know. I’ve fallen hard, yet I got up. In my getting up He gave me another wife that I can only hope will remain with me throughout eternity. I cannot love anyone else like this woman.
I’m happier and more joyful now than ever in my life. Don’t ever give up on yourself. God didn’t.
Hebrews 6:1 – Therefore let us leave the elementary teachings about Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith in God, 2instruction about baptisms the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. 3 And this we will do if God permits.
The word “maturity” in this verse is the correct usage of the translation. In the KJV it says “perfection”. Perfection is what makes people stumble in thinking in today’s terms. The original simply says that it is time to “grow up”. I think a lot of Christians live in a crib with a bottle. Get out of it get on to walking and aim for a more mature walk. Moreso every day.
First and foremost, we must prepare ourselves for the work of the Gospel. If not, what good are we to those we are commissioned to adjure the lost into the fold?
Have a ready answer when either in season or out of season but be sure of what you speak as having already been applied to yourself. I’m not asking for perfection in the sense we know it. I’m asking for maturity. Don’t continue in the same fashion from day to day but grow into the next level of your walk.
I sit here tonight with nothing in particular on my mind. My wife went off to church for intercessory prayer. I’ve been to a previous evening, but tonight I’ve had all I can do for one day.
Being old isn’t for the faint of heart. My right kidney has ached for over a week. My upper torso in my back has hurt for an equal amount of time. My vision comes and goes with its ability to function fully. My left heel hurts when I stand on it too long. I’m quite sure I have a low grade sinus infection and my ears sometimes hurt. My blood pressure is either in the basement or a bit on the high side, but thank goodness my glucose readings are pretty much normal. I still fight with depression at times, but I’ve learned to curtail it before it gets bad. I’m not complaining. Just stating the facts.
I have to face the fact I will be seventy-three next week as well. In all, I can say that I have lived a blessed life in spite of all I stated above. God has proven to me that He is in control. If I were to complain, and I do sometimes, He whispers that all is well and He’s not done with me yet. I live for that reason.
Now to turn that coin over. God has given me a new fresh approach to life over the last fourteen years. I have come from severe depression with anxiety attacks to and ordained minister. I’m also a Chaplain that is certified via the American Chaplains Association. My wife has also become an ordained minister as well and is very active in ministry. We have a nice home, nice vehicles to drive, a nice neighborhood in which to live and my wife and I love each other very much. She has been a very wonderful help to me. I was married prior to 2015, but separated since May of 2009. I made bad decisions and I still pay for the residuals of that. Yet above it all God still blesses my “now” wife.
Yesterday my wife’s 50+ group had a dinner and devotional time after church in the fellowship hall. We had probably eighteen in attendance and I gave a devotional from Psalms 37. As I reflect back on us I realize how far we have come over the last fourteen years together. We were rock bottom. Lately I realize rock bottom is where the foundation has to go to be built upon. The Rock of my salvation is where I started rebuilding and He is the lifter of my head and has been so till now and forever.
I am a product of God’s grace and mercy. I don’t deserve any of what I have now, yet He has seen to wash me with the sacrifical blood of His Son to clean me of my past. To be honest, I can’t remember clearly anything I did before 2009. I just remember it was hell more than heaven. Today I am fulfilled in all that I do. I am satisfied with God’s never ending attention to the details of my life. I don’t have to struggle anymore. The world is in turmoil, yet I’m at peace. I realized something today to sealed that peace even more.
With all the turmoil, God is still in control. In fact, He ordered it. All that is, is for our teaching and understanding. It is for us to depend on Him to take care of us. We don’t have to overthrow a government, nor do we have to become doomsday preppers. God will supply all my needs even in the worst of times. To be honest, some of the things I have to encounter in my daily walk now would have devastated me fifteen years and more ago. I worried about everything. No more. I have begun to feel the fullness of God’s provision for my life. Like Job, it can all go away and He would return it 100 fold.
I watch as others wither and die, yet I’m still here. I am totally sold on God. My respect for Him has become more reality to me than I could ever imagine. I love Him with all my being.
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. – Psalm 127:3
I have had something that has shifted in my life of late. I drove a school bus when I was a high school student back in the 1960s. About six years ago I decided that retirement wasn’t enough to do things I wanted to do, so I signed up to drive a school bus again. After extensive training, which was not the case fifty years ago I was rewarded with a CDL-B with the requisite P & S endorsements to transport people.
I was given two schools to run routes to and from. By chance at the time it was a middle school and an elementary school. I was on the route to learn it with the driver the first day who was leaving. She drove that morning and I drove it that afternoon with her observance. After that it was all on me. Those kids were wild. After a few days I remember not too far into the afternoon run for the elementary school I thought to myself I didn’t know if I could do this without incurring a heart attack. The stress was real, folks.
I’ve seen some of those kids apparently not taking their medication jumping up and down and twirling around in mid-air. Going head over heels over seats and crawling under seats. The window licking kid isn’t a joke. Neither is the “Ewwwww” I got when one peeled chewing gum off the floor and chewed it. I’ve had strawberry flavored twinkies dropped on the floor and stepped on. That took a knife to scrape it off the floor when I got back in from the run. I’ve had kids suspended for drugs and fights. Two got suspended for choking each other. I have drama queens that lose their teeth. No, not just “lose” a tooth, but lose a lost tooth out of a baggie onto the floor and could not find it. The search was on. I’ve had a couple of students with ODD (Obsessive Defiance Disorder). Look it up. That is likely the most difficult of situations to deal with. I’ve had students with medical issues include Gran Mal Siezures that I’m glad didn’t occur on the bus. This past year I have had tampons left on the floor from my middle schoolers and rather risque notes that found their way into my hands when cleaning my bus after my run. It can be rather interesting to say the least.
Still, I’ve had much joy evolve from it all. Most tell me I’m the best bus driver they’ve ever had and some gift me with things I value. Just this week one kindergarten student’s mom and she gave me a bag of Starbuck’s coffee and insulated cup, a cream-filled donut and gourmet cookies. Over the time I’ve driven I’ve been given gift cards to a variety of places. Some simple give me a drawing of a school bus with their rendition of them and me on the bus going to or from school. I’ve seen several of my past students that have gone on to different schools or graduated and they still light up when they see me.
My first two and a half years of driving ended when COVID hit. Schools closed for two months, but I was side-lined as high-risk due to my age and paid out to the end of the school year. By that time I went to work delivering auto parts for a local franchise. Those first couple of years I approached my students as “them against me”. I considered it the “adversarial” approach. It really didn’t go well. So I stayed away from it for a year and a half losing my CDL-B. Then I heard there was a $2500 sign on bonus to come drive again. I didn’t want to pass that up, so that was my initiative to go back.
I had to go through the whole retraining process for my CDL-B again, but that was okay. Then about two months before the end of the school year I was back to driving two routes again. I found myself with a really good bunch of middle school students, but the elementary students were a challenge.
But God was working in me to improve my attitude. He showed me that the verse I referenced above was something I needed to take to heart. Kids truly are our heritage. That being so puts responsibility on us to take care of them and see that they are given as much of a positive light on life to grow by. That meant I’d have to change my adversarial thinking into a more relaxed and positive approach to my kids.
When school started back for the 2022-23 year I went to work on getting to know more about my kids and giving them attaboys and talking positive things to them. I got a new elementary route that school year. I had the same great middle school route.
This 2023-24 school year has given me a solidification of my approach. Last year I developed a simple thing. When my elementary students got to school I would tell each of them as they got off the bus to “Go forth and learn! Come back this afternoon a genius”. I got mostly mumbles that were like “I’ll never be a genius”. I kept it up all year. Then came this year. I started it with the same encouragement. Now only three or four weeks in I’m finding some of my elementary students are responding that they are now geniuses or working to be one. Even the saddest of students from last year has blossomed into a more talkative student. She has come out of her shell. Some funny things have come out of it when one of the new students to this school year heard my encouragement to become geniuses stopped in front of me when getting off and asked me what was a genius. I told him that geniuses are really smart people. When he got on that afternoon he informed me he was becoming a genius. I’ve told all my elementary students they have this ability to do whatever they desire to become. Then I heard my mom’s voice in my head. When I was in school she always told me I could do anything my heart desired to do. She never put limits on me. This inspired me, because now I’m doing the same thing to kids that aren’t even mine.
My middle school students are much the same. They are low-keyed, yet still, they are “middle schoolers”. They are coming of age from the playground sort to noticing each other in a hormonal way. I talk to them more and find in doing so they will warm up to me and talk more to me. In getting to know them I get to speak to them positively one on one. I only hope they not only listen but heed my words of encouragement.
Children truly are our heritage. If we don’t raise them with self-respect and with the ability to see they can do whatever their hearts desire, they will fail or at their very best find it hard to achieve their goals in life. With all the abuse of children today it behooves us to take a moment to examine how we want to leave this world. We already see what happens when we don’t instill a positive moralistic approach to life. Let each of us take time to examine ourselves first to ensure we are on the right path. Once we have that right (from looking into Biblical meditation, I might add) then we will find it imperative to instill it into our future. .our children.
Livin' Small 