![]() Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work; If one falls down, his friend can help him up. Ecclesiastes 4:9 These fabulous ladies took me in and gave me comfort. They showed me how to really teach. They helped heal my broken heart and reminded me to choose joy! Jesus sent these beauties into my life just when I needed them most. Throughout the years, our group enlarged, some retired, and I changed schools. The love remains. The laughter is still contagious. I found a new home at Furlow Charter School. I became part of new team- Bridges. You might recognize us as a connections class or that place where kids go when homeroom teachers need their planning. At Furlow, our Bridges advisors are the art, music, PE, and world language talent. We work with all the kids. We work beside all the teachers. We do this with grace and determination to be an integral part of building our school success and culture. Bridges became a personal symbol of resilience and strength to me. You see, I’m actually afraid of driving on real bridges. I can climb the Eiffel Tower, fly in a plane, and zip-line from one mountain to the next, but ask me drive across the bridge from Savannah into South Carolina, from Port St. Joe into Mexico Beach, or from Brunswick onto Jekyll Island, and I quickly lose my intrepid nature. I struggle to remember to not throw away my confidence. Bridges build self-assurance, symbolizing hope for a better life or perhaps willingness to tackle problems. Bridges help people. They show people different places and unusual things that would have otherwise been inaccessible. Bridges are more than connections. Bridges are beautiful. They carry people from one place to the next, protecting them from the gap underneath. No bridge is perfect. They must sometimes be strengthened with new materials and new ideas. Bridges are a precious balance between blessings and burdens. Last year at a conference, I heard two amazing speakers from Columbus, Georgia, talk about bridges. These men explained how teachers have a choice. Teachers can build with their words or destroy with their complaints. Inside any educational facility, coworkers either spend time building barriers- fences if you will- with the people they work with, or teachers can spend time building bridges, creating a trusting community of friendships. It just depends which way you flip the boards. Where do you find the confidence to flip the boards? I prefer to focus on the beautifully broken bridges in my life. I mean those incredible people who guide me from one side to the other. They are beautifully broken because they are a mosaic of hopes, specialties, gifts, grace, and inspiration. These people in my life were once broken by hardship and life experiences, but they chose the gift of confidence in Christ. They understand how to live into their faith, modeling Christian charity, and challenging me to let my light shine through my broken pieces. Who are these precious people in your life? Who showed you what healing looks like? Who has given you encouragement when you were stepping out in faith? Who offered you laughter, comfort, and hope during sadness of life? Who took your fence and turned it into a path – showing you how to move forward instead of looking back? My friend Johnnie puts it this way, Sometimes we need a little Jesus with skin on it. Jesus is the bridge between my mistakes and His glory. My failures and His Love. My sorrow and His Joy. He is my confidence. And I am blessed- completely blessed- that He sends beautifully broken people into my life to be his hands and feet. It is always when I need them the most. Don’t be afraid to take the fence and flip it over. Don't throw away your confidence.
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![]() “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10: 41-42 Someone has to make dinner, but this simple question wreaks havoc in my household. Peace evaporates as we go down the list of possibilities. There is no comfort in food these days. I’ve been through all the creative shortcuts, family recipes, and favorite take outs numerous times. I’ve satisfied every chocolate craving as well. Ella and I made dozens of chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and gooey bars- just to give them away. Chicken, pork, beef. Veggies different ways. You should have seen victory in my face when I remembered that tater tots used to be a family favorite. Now we seem to also require desserts at every meal. What’s for dinner? is a pressure point, making me instantly irate. Preparing food- cooking- is not my love language or my agape for my family. My meals are quite good, but the stress it causes steals all my joy. For a woman desperately trying to keep her A1C out of the danger zone, I look around at everything I should not have and taste it anyway. I have also been forced to walk miles up and down my driveway to burn it all off. My superpower lies in gathering people-hospitality. I adore seeing my people enjoy one another in fellowship as long as I get to pick up the food and serve it. Just not cook it! I may be the grand disappointment of the women in my life who have created legacies of home cooked meals of casseroles, cornbread, cobblers, and sweet tea. Last week, I was asked by a dear friend to contribute to a recipe chain. I literally laughed out loud at the straight ANXIETY that email caused. To be clever with cooking is the ultimate test. For about five minutes, I channeled the Martha side of me searching for a trendy, chic recipe that would please my friends. I sent a S'more’s recipe instead. I have to face facts. Martha would not have let me in the kitchen. If I look at Mary, I wonder if I would have the confidence to resist the pressures and simply sit at His feet. Could I just listen while others do work? I don’t recall the disciples jumping up to help either. I find myself standing between these two women. My character in Christ is both Martha and Mary. The Rev. Canon Allisyn Thomas wrote a thought-provoking sermon about Mary and Martha moments. His words to Martha, are gentle but clear, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” People often see this story in terms of black and white: Mary is right, Martha is wrong. But to look at it so starkly, I think misses the point. It’s not what Martha is doing is wrong but there is something taking place at that point in time which is more important and her attention would be better spent there. My Martha moments consist of work I love, righteous work, but work nonetheless. In my job as mom or teacher, if I ask a question, I am expected to have several possibilities of answers. My Mary moments come when I can witness to the world and show the loving relationships in my work and home. When these moments are grounded in faith, I experience a profound and blessed joy. My constant prayer from Psalm 139 is Search me o God and know my heart! Try me and know my anxieties. While “staying home” these past weeks, I have the unwelcome pleasure of examining my heart. I’ve worked so hard throughout my life to be good at Martha moments, and I recognize that an idol in my life is the longing to be loved and accepted by others. My value as a mom, wife, daughter, teacher, and human seems hinged on Martha moments when I crave more Mary moments. This is the weak link in my chain of armor- caring too much what others think about me. What did Jesus want from Martha and Mary? He told them to not let other things interrupt an awareness of Him. He wants us to accept the Peace only He can bring into our lives. My confidence comes from Him. I’m working on it. Just please do not ask me what is for dinner! ![]() Fight the good fight of faith. Take hold of the life that lasts forever. You were chosen to receive it. You have spoken well about this life in front of many people. 1 Timothy 6:12 It is week four of being home. The wings on this goose have been clipped. This was the week I was going to be in Haiti.
I am not frustrated or upset that the trip was postponed. I definitely didn’t want to be the one to take a virus into the school in Haiti. I absolutely wanted to be here with my family. Here is where I say- I adore my family more than travel although they may not believe it. I’m simply more about take out and tough love rather “Honey, what can I fix you for dinner?” Haiti has become a special place to me where all the craziness and hectic in my life falls into the craziness and hectic life of this small country. Schedules, deadlines, and routines are replaced with worship, hot Caribbean sun, and unexpected blessings as I am able to walk in His light with His beautiful Haitian children. The grand irony of all of this is that I am now officially a different version of myself. Right in my own home. Because of a pandemic, I get to rediscover my home as a place where the craziness and hectic routines have come to a screeching halt. I’m just not very good at being at home. I usually run from this to-do list. Fast.
All of these things that I generally turn from have been put before me. I struggle, but it’s not because I’m lazy. I am simply not very good at it, and I do not like to disappoint the ones I love. I tell my students that in order to truly serve or help another person, you must understand not only what a person needs but also how you can best meet that need. You just can’t do it the way you want. The “how” is sometimes more important than the “what.” I have always desired a life on the mission field, but a mission field is a large place filled with countless opportunities to spread God’s love. I teach French and Spanish, and I love it. Katy Davis wrote, “I am only doing what I love doing and what God who gave His life for me asks me to do.” At this point, He is commanding that I stay home. Was I ready? Can I say that I am now willing to be a drop in the bucket, hopelessly insignificant to the world? Or should I insist that I should choose the scenery of my sacrifice? Will I let God direct all my paths and choose all my work? At home. What will it cost? It will cost everything that is not of God. It’s one thing to say I never want to miss being in His will when I’m boarding an airplane and calling on Holy Spirit to protect my journey. I do not want an attitude of giving Him ½ when He gave all. I want to do what I was created to do- even if I am still trying to figure that out. Even when it’s not how I imagined it. At home. I still mess it up from time to time. Ok – all the time. It is incredibly hard for me. If I pause for affirmation from the outside world, that ugly voice of lies in my head will start to speak of fear. I become frozen with fear of ruining my relationships, fear of letting my family or coworkers down, or fear of saying the wrong thing. My ugly bitter side shows itself and I’m back where I started, negotiating with the One who patiently walks with me. He reminds me that He is the author and perfecter of my faith. He equips me. Where He leads me, He will provide. I must stay fearless in my obedience. At home. As my Jesus Calling devotion this morning put it: I can practice His presence or practice the presence of problems. How do I serve Christ today? From home? On a computer? In the kitchen? Jesus knows what I can do when I turn all of my inabilities over to Him. Nothing satisfies my soul like doing what He asks of me. Ron Hall’s beautiful book entitled What Difference Do It Make explains a few things about serving Christ. Jesus sent the disciples out- John, Mark, and Nathanial- and them went straight into the villages. And needy people don’t need no perfect people neither. When Jesus sent His disciples out, He sent Peter right along, knowin that Peter had a bad temper and a potty mouth. He sent James and John even though they were full of pride and fighten over the best seat at the table. He even sent Judas. Even though Jesus know’d all of their sin and weakness, He sent ‘em anyway. Jesus knows my sin and weaknesses. Jesus knows my jealousy and insecurities. Jesus knows my pride and my bad temper and my potty mouth. And He loves me with a perfect love anyway. On this Easter Sunday, I pray that God prepares your heart today for something greater than you could ever imagine for yourself. At home. I pray that whatever burdens your heart, that you will choose the grace that He offers. At home. I pray that our Lord meets us with hope in this mess we find ourselves struggling against. At home. I pray that He will open our eyes and our hearts to fully receive it as we find JOY At home. Amen. ![]() Let all that you do be done in love. I Corinthians 16:14 Robert was hungry, already frustrated with sightseeing, language barriers, and cold April rain. His first full day in Nice, France, was not what he anticipated. Flight delays, jet lag and lost luggage left him exasperated, but his wife, a French teacher, was in heaven. So this is my first day in France. How did I let JoAnna talk me into this? Resting against a bench, he lit a cigarette and glanced around. Steep mountains framed the east and casino lights dotted the west. He sighed and tried to appreciate a moment of peace before touring began again. Cigarettes usually relaxed him. Shivering, he pulled his jacket closer and squinted nervously down the beach to locate his group. Please Lord. Help me enjoy this trip. Despite overcast skies, he spied two girls near crystal blue water. Anna’s blond ponytail bounced as Elise chased her. Elise will be first to get her clothes wet. She can’t resist aggravating her mom. Lord, please keep them from fussing. He rolled his eyes at these nine-year olds. Their moms, childhood friends, laughed from a safe distance. They spread out jackets and backpacks as everyone made the most of the time they had on the beach. Grateful for sleep, three teenagers traveling in their group lay motionless, exhausted from the previous day of traveling. Another student took pictures. Leaving noisy traffic behind, Robert grabbed his umbrella and souvenirs from Nice as he stepped onto a beach unlike any he had seen. No sparkling white dunes. No sticky wet sand. No tides. Only small waves rolling in and out. The smoky color of smooth stones piled one over the other blanketed this stretch of Mediterranean shoreline. He slowly made his way toward JoAnna. Robert liked seeing his wife smile, and he eased down in front of her. He stretched his long legs, getting comfortable on impossible rocks. She pulled him close and whispered. Thank you for coming on this trip with me. Now, close your eyes. I have a surprise. He grinned devilishly but obeyed. Instantly, salty air filled with sounds of softly clapping hands. Then silence. Giggling, she lightly kissed his cheek as the waves glided once more over stones on the beach, and rounds of ovation erupted again. Mesmerized, he relaxed in her arms to rhythmic applause of gentle waves. The student taking pictures quickly captured this moment for them. Thank you, Lord. I might survive this trip after all. |
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JoAnna Arnold
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