It could have been worse. I mean, it really could have been worse. When I fell, I didn’t break my glasses. Or my hip. Or my face. Or my phone. It was my happiness that shattered for a precious few minutes. As I lay looking up at the beautiful blue sky - from the ground- behind my car- two very kind men raced to my rescue. I tried to catch my breath, inventory the pain, and remember the exact words I had screamed out as I catapulted to the ground. I believe in putting a 100% effort behind all my endeavors. This moment was not an exception. I sat up as gracefully as I could and looked at my hands. What a bloody mess. Ok-not that much blood, but my left hand took the brunt of this fall. In an effort to save my glasses, my hip, face, and phone that I dropped so I wouldn’t crack the glass, I sacrificed my hands. I tripped, hopped, and scrambled, but I still couldn’t stick that landing. For nearly a week, my friends have tried to think up a better story than…. JoAnna fell pumping gas. Friday, February 19, 2021, marks the last and absolute final time that this wanna-be gymnast will jump over the hose while pumping gas. It’s a skill the left leg can no longer handle. Besides, isn’t it easier (and some would argue smarter) to just walk around the pump? Why yes, yes, it is. The last time this happened I SWORE I would never do it again. Why yes, this has happened before. Last time, I was just able to stick the landing, recover my balance, and look around real fast to see if anyone had witnessed my craziness. As I lay on the ground last Friday- mortified and a bit dazed- I heard a man yell into his phone, Oh no! I gotta go. A lady just fell. Another kind man refused to let me stand on my own. I asked him if I had yelled out anything inappropriate as it happened. He told me I earned the right to say whatever I wanted if I was going to take a fall like that. He finished with, You better get that hand looked after real soon. It don’t look so good. These men- to whom I’m totally grateful- helped me up, made sure I was going to make it, and left me alone with my mortification. My left hand isn’t broken- just swollen and bruised, and a couple of fingers pull to the left. It needs to be wrapped up for a while. I keep saying, it will be ok. I know this because I’ve hurt before, and from experience, I know it will be ok. Just like the time I fractured my foot running in the rain wearing Steve Madden platform sandals. Just like the time I tore up my shoulder getting thrown from a tube behind a really fast boat on the lake. It was eventually ok. Just like the time I hurt my other shoulder opening a door as someone else was pushing it open from the other side. Just like the time I tore my ACL opening a closet door. To be fair, the door was really stuck and my knee was torqued in the wrong direction. It will be ok. Eventually. If I face facts, I’m going to continue to trip over and over again. Some accidents will hurt worse than others and some will require more attention. Sometimes it is my heart that breaks. Sometimes it is my pride. And sometimes it is my joy. What I realized last week was that there were blessings in this experience. My hand won’t agree, but my glasses, my face, hip, and right hand will. As a child of God, I can trust in His love, his peace, power and wisdom. I may go through another crisis- big or small. I will fall short again or I may fall hard. I could fall from grace. Who knows what I will hurt next or perhaps my spirit will suffer. Obviously, I am not always the most graceful of girls. When I can’t stick the landing, I can still hold firmly to my faith, to the hope He gives me. God will be with me as I move or tumble through it all. God will provide me with the strength I need to trust Him. He will remind me of His command to rest, call on Him, and hold on to Him with whatever bit of dignity I have left. Thank you, Lord, that your grace is greater than any of my mistakes or miscalculations. Hebrews 23-24: Let us hold firmly to the hope we claim to have. The God who promised is faithful. Let us consider how we can stir up one another to love. Let us help one another to do good works.
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Costa Rica has the best ziplines. Strap in. Hang on. Talk with Jesus. That kind of zipline. Not just one tree to the next. It’s more like one mountain to the next. I can’t get enough of it. I would go back to Arenal today just to fly. That is some serious altitude addiction. Maybe I could convince Bob to take me back for my Goose-iversary. One year of I’m Still A Goose. A lot of words. Over 9,000 hits. Merci and Gracias! This goose project has reached a cruising altitude. Not too high and not too low. Just perfect for me. I have learned a lot about altitude. As I look back over the year of this goose and read through my first posts, I realize that His love lessons sustain me. His grace keeps me on course, no matter my altitude. I’ve learned a few things about geese, too. They are -loyal, caring, amicable. -protective, elegant, purposeful. These traits with which a goose is identified remind me of the person I aspire to be. Nature provides geese come with incredible instincts. Instincts to protect, soar, and travel to the ends of the earth. Instincts to choose its gaggle, its group of friends or family. They choose to live in unity. Each bird flies stronger and with more purpose than it could if it were alone. The V formation is nature’s design to most help geese whatever altitude they choose. They fly low or they fly high. They fly together. They depend on one another. One goose gets tired, so it rotates back giving another goose the front position. There’s lifting power in that formation! It ensures group support- group survival. That familiar honk we hear is actually encouragement. The loving power of geese is quite impressive. If one goose becomes sick, wounded, or hurting, its group will not abandon it. A few will follow the ailing goose to protect him. This enchants me. The goose is never alone to fight its battles. Never alone to rest and restore. Never alone in its struggles or its victories. We geese need our tribe. Our friends. That gaggle of precious souls that God sends us- to keep us straight, to remind us to be humble, to forgive us, and to lift us as we fly. I love to fly with my crew under the radar, but sometimes I don’t get my way. I love to feel His air lifting the wings of this tired traveler. He sometimes will let me fly on to see how far I might get when blue skies turn dark. I even knowingly fly into storms when my instincts cringe against this flight pattern. There is one thing that can prevent geese from flying strong. From reaching His destination for us. It's air pollution. We fill up our own skies with toxic rhetoric, insufferable encumbrances of insecurities, and contaminated chemical reactions of fear, hurt, and jealousy mixed with pride. It’s our human nature. Sometimes it’s a deliberate choice, but more often we don’t realize what we are doing until we are in the middle of an inescapable weather pattern. We hunker down, searching for safety in our squalls that are too terrible to bear. We have to wait for them to pass. A goose can’t fly if it’s weighted down. I have surrendered my fear and doubts just to pick many of them back up again. It depends on the day and on my journey. We geese need to clean and clear the air from time to time. The only air pollution solution is forgiveness. It’s the only way to keep flying. Forgiving yourself and forgiving others as He also forgives us. The altitude may change, but He doesn’t. I’m still a goose and I kinda like it. Sky Trek is a unique zipline circuit that stretches across canyons, going from one mountain to another, and in between treetops. It truly is an exhilarating adventure of zip lining down the mountains. Arenal, Costa Rica. For years, I have read countless articles, books, papers, essays, poetry, and daily or weekly inspirational posts. I saved innumerable maxims of encouragement and teacher humor while I snapped pictures of people who inspired or motivated me. I took notes in church, during devotions, and when listening to podcasts. I jotted down song lyrics-diligently and because it gave me joy, I filled journal after precious journal with quotes by authors, my favorite characters, and verses from my Bible. I wrote lovely things, stupid things, and painful things. I collected it all because it gave me joy. Next, I prayed for direction and words. His words. Not mine. I prayed for God to place people in my life who could guide and encourage my next steps. I struggled for a name for this endeavor because it seemed almost impossible to create something original. God sent wonderful help: Tom, Polly, Laura, Jeni, Sanah, and Chris. Each of these writers gave me different pieces of my puzzle. Simple instructions swirled around my mind and forced me to deal with one irrefutable revelation: I cannot care what other people think. I cannot change the way I write to please others. This journey is to challenge myself, to satisfy something that God placed on my heart. To glorify Him. Ironically, this is easier to write than to do. I hate making mistakes, wasting my time, and missing out on what He has planned for me. I worry about what others think entirely too much. Fear kept me from doing something important for myself. Fear keeps us in knots, Fear keeps us from glorifying HIm when He wants to give us the desires of our heart. I need God to sing to my heart. To sing words of encouragement. This occurs each time when we talk ourselves out of that something we have Always desired to do. Always craved to see. Always needed to try. Always fancied to hear. Last year, I met Sanah Jivani at the We Are Family Foundation Gala in NYC. I got to wear that fancy dress again as I went somewhere and did something I never imagined for myself. It was incredible. As I sat at my table, I looked around the room at all the fancy people having fun. When I spotted Sanah, my first thought was how incredibly beautiful this person looked. I didn’t know we would soon be dancing next to one another. I didn’t know that a beautiful friendship would begin. Sanah Jivani is simply amazing. She talks to teens about how to love themselves in spite of bullying, pressure, and a culture of social media. To do this- completely do this- Sanah challenges kids to make a list of what scares them the most and then to create a dream board of all they desire. The story of her foundation inspired my students to use the best words, the kindest words to fill their heads so that they were their kindest to themselves. International Day of Self Love is February 13- the day before Valentine’s Day. Sanah challenges people to look for what holds them back from doing something they want to try and to take a step of faith. We find inspiration from this amazing story. The foundations’ goal is to give people courage to act and to love ourselves before we celebrate loving others. Sanah tells her story. Sanah shares all the beautiful and dark parts of her soul with others. Sanah makes herself vulnerable over and over and over again because she has learned the value of turning the darkest parts of pain into something that shines light for others. I invited Sanah to come to Americus last year. She spent the weekend with my family. Through our conversations and her testimony, I was inspired to act with purpose- to publish this blog. Jeni and Laura helped me name it. I launched I’m Still a Goose on February 13 in honor of Sanah and the International Day of Self Love. This deadline put everything into focus, and I had a goal I understood. I faced up to the fear of what might happen if I dared to write. I decided to straight up love my crazy self and this crazy goose name and this crazy idea. I just needed the encouragement. God was singing to my heart. My question of love for you is this: What is it you want? What is that thing that has been sitting on your soul that you have pushed away because of fear, timing, or energy? Be encouraged to do it. To try it. To fail. To not fail. To fly like a goose with a million honks driving you forward. Be encouraged to do it now- to move forward in faith. Let me remind you today: You may be afraid of something. You have nothing to fear. Ask God to sing to your heart. Psalm 31:24 Be strong and let your heart take courage, All you who hope in the Lord! Poor is the student who doesn’t surpass the teacher. Leonardo da Vinci said this first but he used fancy words. Poor is the pupil who doesn’t surpass the master. Here’s to hoping da Vinci won’t mind small changes. I really like this quote though. These are teacher words to live by especially when I run across a student who is simply awesome. Like Jared. I have a picture of me and Jared on my bookcase at school. We were on a foreign language club field trip to Habitat’s Global Village. I think it was 2014. It’s a great picture of him. Terrible picture of me. Those who know me best know that I never put out bad pictures of myself. It’s a life rule. If I see a bad picture, I only obsess over how I looked. It’s a mental self-preservation thing. Many will understand. Yet, I have broken my own rule for this picture. I only see Jared when I look at it. I only remember how much fun that field trip was with a great group of kids. I’d take them anywhere. Jared, my awesome student, was enthusiastic. Gracious. Helpful. Cheerful. He started in ninth grade with French and enjoyed languages so much that he signed up for Spanish. I think he overlapped them. Sometimes students who like learning languages will do that. They figure out the patterns and the teacher. Jared was using his languages, not just learning about them. That is what I remember. I glance at that picture on my bookshelf throughout the day to be inspired to make the classes fun for my kids. I don’t have to look at the picture to remember Jared. He works with me now. I get to see him every day… down the hall, across the lunchroom, in classrooms of kids waiting- virtually waiting to learn something new, or at my door wishing me a happy day. I love me some Jared! Jared soaked up all that learning in high school from all of his teachers. He is more than capable of pouring it back into his students today. I love to hear Jared with the kids, especially when he can teach my lesson better than I can. He can impart a love of learning languages with smiles and enthusiasm, not a drop of dread or confusion. With every kindness, he reminds me to be kind. With every smirk and wink, he reminds me to lighten up. To laugh. I always need to lighten up. With every thread of energy and purpose he weaves into his day, he teaches and inspires. He inspires me to pay attention to my threads. I can’t let them unravel, no matter how old or frayed they might appear. He inspires me to create some language magic with those lessons that captivate, not confound. Jared is finding his own way in a really tough job, and I don't think he needs my help much. Maybe.. just maybe.. I can still teach him something. Maybe I’ll teach him to recognize how he is getting it right- his planning, his nurturing, and his creativity. how he imparts the best of himself to all of us. how to thank God for students who love what you give them. Blessed is this teacher who can witness that student surpass it all. It’s time for a new picture! |
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JoAnna Arnold
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