Teachers Say the Craziest Things: Back to School Edition

Posted on August 26, 2016 by Paige Givens

Especially when school is starting back.

Especially in kindergarten.

Sometimes I hear myself and I think, “Really? Did that just get said?” But it NEEDS to be said! Our little friends are very literal and sometimes need very explicit directions on many tasks and routines when starting their school adventures. They give a whole new meaning to the term “explicit instruction”!

They also ask a LOT of questions…and I try to answer as seriously as I can. 

So here are just a few of the crazy things that have come out of my mouth this year…during the first two weeks of school.

Do we eat markers? Noooo, we don’t eat markers.

Yes, I’m a person. Yes, just like you.

This is how we sit in a chair. 

Let’s pretend like I don’t know how to walk. Who can show me how to walk?

Let’s practice laughing for real. Have you really ever seen someone laugh and it caused them to fall out of a chair? Oh, you have? Your dad? Well….

You’re not ten. You’re actually five. Isn’t that great? Me? No I’m not ten either. I’m thirty three. Yes… well, no I’m not dead. I’m still alive, I’m just thirty three.

Let’s pretend I can’t read. 

No, I’m not seventy.

It’s okay to laugh if something is funny, but you MUST recover.

Let’s pretend I can’t sit crisscross applesauce. Who can show me what to do?

This is a computer mouse. Thank you if you are not screaming. It’s not an animal mouse…it’s a computer mouse.

These computers aren’t touch screens. You need to use the mouse. Thank you if you are not screaming. It’s not a mouse like an “animal mouse”. It’s a computer mouse.

Let’s pretend like I can’t whisper. 

No I’m not a second grader.

Let’s pretend like I’m fake laughing instead of “real” laughing. Who can show me how to move on?

Let’s pretend like my beans are stuck to my tray. How will I get them off?

I’m going to pretend like you didn’t put that in your mouth. 

To another teacher: Go in there and tell me if it smells like something is dead in there?

To another teacher: The beginning of kindergarten is my favorite. No really! It is!😊 


It really is my favorite. I love my kindergarten friends and their crazy comments and questions and I LOVE making a difference in their lives. Okay teachers, let’s have it. Share your crazy words below. I hope your year is awesome!!!!!

PS- I totally allow and love laughter in my room! 😉 We’ve just had some issues recovering from laughter this year! 


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The Fragrance of My Worship

Posted on August 16, 2016 by Paige Givens

One day in class, a child broke out what is considered to be a great treasure among my five year old friends. It was her own personal bottle of hand sanitizer—and not just any bottle of sanitizer… floral scented hand sanitizer. She was feeling particularly generous that day, and she proceeded to share with the entire class until her whole bottle was used up. The kids called out in alarm “Your bottle is used up! It’s gone!”And she replied, “It’s okay, I wanted to share it with my friends.”

Now, the classroom was filled with the smell…a rather strong one…of floral scented hand sanitizer. Aroma just happened to be our vocabulary word that week. One precious little boy told me as we walked down the hall, “Mrs. Givens, we’re taking our arom-y with us, aren’t we?”

And we were. You could smell us coming from the other side of the building!

While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.

When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. â€œThis perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”

Aware of this, Jesus said to them, â€œWhy are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Matthew 26:6-13 (NIV)

alabaster box 

Now one of the Pharisees was requesting Him to dine with him, and He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. And there was a woman in the city who was a sinner; and when she learned that He was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster vial of perfume, and standing behind Him at His feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears, and kept wiping them with the hair of her head, and kissing His feet and anointing them with the perfume.…

Luke 7:36-38

 

I imagine her face was burning, her eyes were downcast. Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry. But her eyes were not. She is described in Luke as “the sinful woman”. What is she doing here? Get her out on the street, where she belongs. The nerve of filth like that, coming in here with us. I’m sure the whispers and murmurs were like shouts to her ears and her injured soul.

Still…on she walked. How many steps did she have to take to reach Grace? Was it a few? Was He all the way across the room?

As she fell before Him, she cried so many tears that she was able to wash His feet with them. She dried His feet with her hair. The Bible says that she broke her alabaster jar, a very expensive treasure (Mark says it was worth a year’s wages), and poured it on His head. As the oil flowed over His head, His mercy washed over her’s. Mercy worth more than a whole life’s wages, and she knew it.

The murmurs continued. And a whole jar of perfume? Seriously, that’s a year’s worth of wages she just wasted. And now the whole room is filled with the smell! What a waste!

The room was filled, all right. It was filled with the same thing that our churches and our lives are filled with today. It was filled with the battle between worship and the world.

She was there to worship. She was there in obedience. She was there to seek forgiveness, though she knew she wasn’t worthy. Others were there to dine and visit. They were there to be seen and heard.

While she was there, she surrendered a very precious possession. When her jar of alabaster was broken, the fragrance must have filled the room. I imagine that when she left, the fragrance clung to her hands, her hair, and her clothes for weeks and months. The fragrance probably drew the attention of those she came in contact with. It must have permeated the air that was around her. It was the fragrance of her worship.

May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.

Psalm 141:2

When I worship the Lord, does the fragrance fill the room? Or am I like the Pharisees, too concerned with the actions and labels of others to focus on my worship? When I’m around others, does the fragrance of my worship follow me, or does it quickly fade into the background and noise of the world?

My prayer is to be like her. When my praise and my worship require a sacrifice, I want to offer it without hesitation. I want my worship to be a fragrant offering to the Lord, not the meaningless act of a Pharisee. Even when I know I am undeserving, when I know others might belittle me or question me, I want the worship of my Father to be my number one goal. And when I go out into the world, I pray that the fragrance of my worship doesn’t fade. I pray that it clings to me, and that others will sense the Lord in me. Like my sweet child at school said, I want to take my “arom-y” with me!

Here’s a song from awhile back. I wrote and recorded it about fifteen years ago. It was and still is the prayer of my heart. Take a listen to The Fragrance of My Worship.

Words and Music by: Paige Givens,  Copyright 1999

 

Sharing this week with Holley Gerth’s Coffee For Your Heart and faithalongtheway’s Saturday Soiree.

 

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Bloom Right Where You Are!

Posted on August 1, 2016 by Paige Givens

When it comes to gardening, I don’t have a green thumb. As a matter of fact, I don’t have any kind of thumb or knack for gardening! I’ve tried my hand at many kinds of plants over the years, and what I’ve discovered is that I do best with hardy, strong perennials.

lily one

I have some beautiful daylilies blooming right now. I love to study their unique colors. One set is a beautiful crimson color with a hint of amber in the center. The other set is a gorgeous shade of peach with crimson rings in the middle.

lily 2

One interesting fact about these flowers is that one set was orange the first year they bloomed and the other set was yellow. Over the years, they’ve transformed into the beauties pictured above. The other interesting fact is that they sat as bulbs in a Walmart sack for three weeks before I even planted them! That’s right–yours truly forgot about them. When I finally did plant them, it was with little faith in my heart that they would bloom.

But not only did these wonderful daylilies bloom, they thrived. They pushed their roots far into the soil and clung tightly through hot summer days, hours upon hours of rain, and even when Chris accidently ran the weedeater through them. They were crushed down when chubby little boy feet marched over them, and then they valiantly struggled back up to standing. And in the winter, even though they were no longer visible, I knew they were still there. Know why? Because every year in late spring and early summer, they begin to show signs of life again. Green shoots begin to burst up from the ground that once seemed barren. The plant that had five blooms the year before now has ten.

I’m so proud of these daylilies, and not because of any work I’ve done. I mean, gracious, if I was a plant, the Givens garden would be like a nightmare! My brother-in-law recently pointed out a thriving green vine in my flower bed to me as poison ivy. Oh? So that’s what it looks like…

So I’m proud of my daylilies. These daylilies remind me to bloom wherever I am planted. These flowers are magnificant. They look as it they belong in a fine botanical garden, but for some reason their Creator chose for them to be planted in the garden of a person with no gardening ability. And yet they have still bloomed. Not just a little, but a lot. They have bloomed with a profusion of color and beauty.

The Creator of the daylilies wants His children to be that way. He has sent us to our current situation in order to bloom, friends! Maybe you are in a place where you feel like you can’t possibly be used to your full potential, like you are wasting your time. But God has ordered your steps into this exact place at this time for a reason! He wants you to bloom here. He wants you to sink your roots down deep so that you won’t be swayed by your feelings and circumstances. He wants you to bear down through the dry days and the days that drench you with fear, uncertainty, and disillusion. Maybe you are in your own winter, and day after day leaves you cold and numb, with no fruit to show for it. But guess what? The time for blooming is drawing near! Your Creator has designed you not only to bloom, but to thrive. You are the only one who can show your best colors and your best fruits.

So let’s think for a minute about what He’s calling us to do. If you’ve ever looked closely at a flower garden, you’ll see that no two flowers are exactly alike. The same holds true for us. He has equipped us with different talents for different purposes. What is your gift? What do you feel called to do? If you don’t know what your gift is, spend time in prayer and sincerely ask God to show you what He has equipped you to do. He will show you. The world needs all kinds of people…leaders, singers, teachers, organizers, encouragers, listeners…and the list stretches on.

So many times, we feel like we aren’t being used when we don’t see BIG things happening. For instance, I struggled for years with thinking I didn’t need to write songs and music simply because they weren’t being used in the music industry on a “big” scale. But God began to show me the error in my thinking and reasoning. He sent others to cultivate me. Their encouragement watered my dry soul and their instruction clipped away the dead leaves. A simple, “That song touched my heart today. Thank you for that,” at church showed me that He was using me right where He planted me. Perhaps my encouragers had been planted in the garden right beside me for that very purpose. They were blooming where they were planted, and now so would I. Your local church is one of the absolute best places to “bloom”. The church needs all sorts of hands and feet to fulfill the work of God and will grow you in many, many ways.

Last year, my sweet husband helped me to record and release a CD that we made at home. It was an extremely simple process that involved the help of many people who were firmly planted where their Creator placed them. To many, this project would be considered small-scale. However, it is monumental to my heart. It is a reminder of what God can and will do in our lives when we commit to flourishing where He plans for us to be.

A friend recently said to me, “If God had you to write those songs for one single person this year, it was for me.” And those words were His way of showing me that I had bloomed. If it was just for one person, then I had done what He called me to do. If it was just for Christ alone, and no one else ever noticed, then I would have done what He called me to do.

So thank Him today for putting  you in your current position. If you feel like you are trying to bloom in a spot He hasn’t designed for you, ask Him to move you or to show you how to stay. He is faithful and He will make His will clear to you.

When we are where He wants us to be, He will shower us with seeds of His gifts. He will water us and tenderly grow us. He will sheild us from the heat of life and He will cover us with His feathers during the harsh winters. He will use His other blooming children to encourage us and to help us with their special skills. And each day, He will walk through His garden and enjoy us, His creation. He loves you, you know. He created you to be beautiful and unique.

So bloom, friends! Bloom big! 🙂

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What a Friend We Have in Jesus

Posted on July 27, 2016 by Paige Givens

“But who will be my friend?”

This was the question I constantly asked my mom and myself as a child. I was always concerned with having a friend close by to help me conquer whatever situation I was walking into. Going to church each week, I’d ask “Who will be there today?”, hoping my  best friend  would be there to speak for me. She was my voice. Her name is April, and whenever I needed to say something as a young child, she was there to say my words for me!

And then, school started, and I had to go without April because of the fall birthday rule. She was just a few months behind me, but those were important months when it came to deciding who could go to kindergarten in the fall.

“But who will be my friend?”

I spent lots of time on the playground by myself at the beginning of my school days because I wasn’t good at making friends! I was hindered by shyness. It is something I still struggle with to this day. As a teacher myself, I get a small tug on my heart every time I see a child wandering around on the playground by himself or herself, looking to other children, silently asking to play and be friends because the words just won’t come out. No matter how young we are, everyone wants a friend.

I love my friends. They laugh with me, cry with me, and talk with me. We go shopping together, plan parties together, and watch movies together. My friends listen to my songs and always offer encouragement. My friends pray for me. They pray with me. And even now, as I did all throughout childhood, when I’m going to a new place, I find myself thinking the same question that seemed to grow up with me.

“But who will be my friend?”

This year, God has sent me some awesome opportunities. I’ve gotten to be in the same room and meet people that I have only dreamed about meeting in my life. And every time I’ve gotten ready for these wonderful, life-changing opportunities, I have had moments of overwhelming apprehension over meeting new people and “making friends”. It’s a vicious thing, this shyness. If I try to face it on my own, without God’s help, it can take away my excitement, peace, joy, and even my obedience to His plan. It reminds me over and over again of the question that tries to become my mantra.

“But who will be my friend?”

I may not think the exact words, but I wonder about the people that I will be around. Will they like me? Will we get along?  Will they get me? And then I worry. Will I be alone? Will everyone else have someone to talk to except for me? Will I have to sit by myself? Will I actually have to initiate a conversation, because, seriously folks, sometimes the words just won’t come from my mouth! It may sound silly, but I get so nervous when I’m in a crowd of new people–yet I’m alone– that I just can’t do words. And I love words! From conversations I’ve had with others, I’m  not the only person who is apprehensive over meeting new people. Because no matter how old we are, everyone wants a friend.

Have you ever felt friendless? It’s a sickening feeling. Maybe you are in a new place and you know no one. Maybe the friends you had have deserted you. Maybe you feel like you’ve never had a true friend. Maybe you are constantly asking yourself the question that has tapped me on the shoulder so many times.

“But who will be my friend?”

You have a Friend. The book of Proverbs tells us “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”  (18:24) His name is Jesus. He died to be your Friend and Savior. What a wondrous, joyous thought! The King of all kings, Maker of the world, Redeemer of humanity, is our Friend! And He’s not just a Friend who is there when you’re in a good mood or saying and doing all the right things. He’s there for you all the time. He is closer than a brother.

He is bigger than my shyness. He supplies words when I have none. He is my comfort if I have to sit alone. He is my security when I go up and introduce myself to new people. He laughs with me when I do silly things out nervousness and helps me to smile at myself instead of cry over my craziness (I mean, really, sometimes I might as well just shake hands with new people and say Hi, I’m Awkward. And you are?..).

And when I do need to cry, He gives me His shoulder to cry on. You and I know that there are  times when even our closest friends can’t understand our hurts. But Jesus does. He is closer than a brother. The awesome thing about Jesus is that He became us. He left His heavenly home to become one of us. So He knows our hurts, our insecurities, and fears. No one understands us and can be a better Friend to us than Jesus.

I pray that He is your friend today! All you have to do is ask, and He will be there. If you feel like you need help asking Him to be your Friend, let me know and I will help you!

My dad has had a mandolin in his hand since before I can even remember! He joins me in the song “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” with his voice and his mandolin. He’s so good! He and my mother taught me about my Friend Jesus when I was a tiny girl, so this isn’t just my story, it’s his too. And it can be yours today!

This is our story, friends, and this is our song. Take a listen and sing along!

Sharing with holleygerth.com!

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About That Difficult Child…

Posted on July 19, 2016 by Paige Givens

They kick. They hit. They talk back. They yell at you. They stomp their feet, cross their arms, and refuse to budge. They destroy school property. They are not nice to the kids around them. They are difficult. I’m not talking about the ones who are a little rowdy. I’m not even talking about the ones who have lots of energy, the ones sometimes referred to as “hyperactive”. I’m talking about the child that only comes along every few years. The child you go home and cry about on the first day of school, VBS, or Sunday School. The child you’re picturing right now. I’ve read countless books about these children. I’ve attended seminars and workshops. However, each child that walks trough my classroom door is unique and different. There is no one perfect solution to dealing with a child who is difficult. I could tell you all the things I’ve learned that work. I could tell you to first think of yourself–the teacher, the adult–and think of your procedures and routines…are they in need of a change? I could tell you to think of the child–what must they be going through in life that causes them to have such a tough time at school? I could suggest diets and schedules and behavior plans…but that’s not the point of this post. The reason for this post has to do with the heart. It has to do with a Creator who created all things, even difficult people. One day after school, I was in the floor cleaning up ripped paper and broken crayons, a torn curtain hanging from a pulled curtain rod, and overturned chairs…all from one student who’d had a very hard day. And, honestly, I was mad. I was throwing myself one great big pity party. I just knew that life was so unfair for me to have to “deal” with a student like this one day after day. It was then that the Lord caught my eye and ear with His Word. “Love is patient. Love is kind…Love endures all things.” 1Corinthians 13 I heard Him very clearly on this particular afternoon. It was as if He spoke to me by name. “Paige…I knew how this child would be. And I made this child anyway.” That child…even the most injured, wounded, difficult child…was lovingly crafted by the same God who spoke the world into existence. God knew that the child would face difficult days; but He made the child anyway. Because He has some pretty awesome plans in store for the child. He knew that this child would be in your care for a certain school year, or even for a week in bible school. Or maybe He knew that this child would be in your Sunday School class once a week for awhile. He knew that you had something for this “difficult” child that no one else could give them. So, yes, He made them anyway. He loves them anyway. But that’s only the beginning of this matter of the heart. You see, God went on to point out that He made me anyway. Difficult is too nice of a word to describe myself. How many times have I stomped my spoiled feet, crossed my stubborn arms, and refused to even budge in the direction that my Father was leading me? I have been judgmental, condescending, and un-nice so many times. I have been complacent and lazy when it comes to the work of spiritual harvest. I am worse than difficult. God knew I would be this way. But He made me anyway. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.” Genesis 1:1-5 The Creator went on to make a glorious sky, one He continues to paint with spectacular hues that only the God of the heavens can create. He made the seas, with their vast depths and perfect-timed tides. He made the dry land and filled it with all of the plants and vegetation that we use today. God made the animals; all of the beautiful creatures that we gasp over and even the small wiggly ones that we walk over. He designed it all perfectly. The ecosystems, the food chains, the life cycles. And God saw that it was good. It was perfect. sunset And then, God made us. Here’s the thing…He knew. He knew, friends. He knew how we would be. He knew what we would do to His perfect earth. He knew that man and woman would bring sin into a perfect world. He knew of the horrible crimes that people would commit. He even knew of the horrible thoughts that would run through our brains. He knew that one day He’d have to send His Son to fix us. That His Son would have to leave Him in heaven and come live among our injured, difficult flesh, only to die for us. And He knew that even then, some of us would throw that sacrifice back at His face. What kind of love does that? It’s a love that looks beyond to bigger things. It’s a love that my mind cannot comprehend. I know that on my own I will never be worthy enough to merit the gift that He gave by creating me and sending Jesus to me. So all I can do is live my life in praise to the One who made me anyway. Do you have a difficult child in your life? Are you at the end of yourself when it comes to serving that child? Perhaps you are the parent of the difficult child. Do you dread each time your phone rings during the day, worrying that a caregiver is calling you to report bad deeds? Do you cry in your pillow at night, thinking you’ve somehow gone wrong along the way to have a child who is so…”difficult”? Are you thinking that you are the difficult one? Do you think you’ve gone so far that God wishes He hadn’t made you? Don’t give up hope, my friend. God knew how we would all be. He knew the horrid things we would think and do. But He loved us so much that He made us anyway. He’s got better plans for us beyond the here and now. I can’t wait to see what His plans include for you and the children in your life!   **I want to give a special thanks to a beautiful friend of my heart, Connie. Her beautiful words about the creation of the world and God’s children spoke to my heart in such a powerful way. Thank you, Connie, for your obedience and teaching. I love you friend!** Anyway (Connie’s Song)

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Finding Our Way Home (part 2)

Posted on July 2, 2016 by Paige Givens

Pssstt!…..You may want to read Part 1 before reading Part 2!

After living in The House for only 7 months, Chris and I learned to find contentment and joy no matter where the Lord moved us. He was our home. He was our security. He was our comfort.

I felt peace in knowing that the Lord had taught us such an important, valuable spiritual lesson through the walls and windows and carpet and roof that made up an earthly dwelling where we lived.

I thought we were home to stay and I was okay with that.

But God…

He had a different plan.

One day last spring my younger sister Hannah and I were talking about houses, specifically The House. Our conversation turned to the house that Hannah lived in with her husband Jayson and their son Carter. They’d built it at our grandparents’ place early in their marriage, and were neighbors with our “Granny and Pawpaw,” as we call them.

Hannah and Jayson have their own story to tell about the joys of adoption and the miracle of the birth of their son Carter (you can read it here).

They’d been looking to downsize for some time because they were burdened to pay off their adoption debt. They had a beautiful house on a wonderful spot of land, but they couldn’t really sell it to downsize because it was on family land. Now, the term family land brings up different pictures in everyone’s mind, but in my mind, family land looks like home…and a seed began to take root.

I grew up a short walk away from my  Granny and Pawpaw. If we wanted to visit our grandparents, my sisters and I just had to take a quick skip “across the field” behind our house and we’d be there. The yard was a haven for curious children, complete with a tire swing and a rope swing, a red barn, trees perfect for climbing, and a distant-but-not-too-distant pond. When I was almost in college, my parents moved a little farther down the road from my grandparents, and we started driving to get to their house (though it was still just down the road). No matter what stage I’ve gone through in life, no matter where I’ve lived, there has been one place in my mind that comes to mind when I think of home, and this is it.

Before I could water the seed of thought in my mind, before I could cultivate it and mull over it, I blurted out to Hannah, almost half-jokingly, “Maybe Chris and I could buy your house so ya’ll could downsize and pay off your adoption?”

And Hannah simultaneously said, “YES!”

And we stared at each other in wonder.

Hmmm. Slow this train down for a minute.

There were a few things I hadn’t thought of, like:

  1. I would need to “run this” by Chris, right? Yes, yes I would. Oh, and he was away on a business trip that day.
  2. We just moved. Like seven months ago.
  3. Hannah would need to “run this” by her husband, Jayson.
  4. Numbers would have to match up.
  5. Can you even sell a house that you just moved into? Like seven months ago?
  6. WHAT WOULD PEOPLE THINK?!? I mean, we just moved. Like seven months ago!
  7. What would Granny say?
  8. What about the boys? How could we move them again so quickly?
  9. What did God think? What did He say to do? Would He really say to move again? We’d just moved. Like seven months ago.

So we quickly went our separate ways, with Hannah excitedly assuring me that there was “No pressure or anything.” 🙂

But what she did next is what we need to do with any situation in our lives, big or small. It’s what our Father calls us to do, what He longs for us to do.

She said, “As soon as I got home, I hit my knees.”

She prayed. Hard. And I did the same. I will honestly admit, I sort of thought that this situation was too far out of reach for any of us. We’d gone through some trial in our hearts over The House, and I didn’t know that the Lord would trust us by telling us to move again. I mean, our latest move had made a wreck out of me. I’d learned a lot about myself, about the Lord, and I’d gotten closer to Him than ever before. And it had happened in The House. Did He really want us to leave now? I was doubtful. But here’s what came to my heart…

“Your own ears will hear Him. Right behind you a voice will say, “This is the way you should go,” whether to the right or to the left.” Isaiah 30:21

My heart listened. I called Chris on his business trip. “Hey…so I was talking to Hannah…” I will say I cringed a little as I laid it all out to him. But he just laughed and joked, “I go away for one day!”

And then, it was as if my own ears heard the Lord. Right behind me on this way home, saying “This is the way. Walk in it.”

Here’s how the Lord showed us to move forward:

Chris got serious and said that we needed to pray, pray, pray. He also very realistically said he was unsure if we could even sell a house so soon (just in case you’re wondering, we had only lived there for 7 months. 7. Months.). And then he said, “Paige, we’ve just sold and bought this year. We’d be able to afford ____ amount on their house. We don’t even know what they’d want to sell it for. This can be very hard to talk about with family.”

Less than a minute later, my sister called and said that she had talked to her husband and asked him if he thought it was possible to sell and build a smaller house. Jayson was very excited. He’d taken a calculator and made several calculations and said, “If we sell it for ____ amount, we’ll be able to pay off our adoption in full!”

It was the exact amount Chris had given me.

“This is the way. Walk in it.”

Move.

Okay Lord. We will move again.

So….

I worry way too much about what people think of me. Surprise, right? I hated the thought of putting up a For Sale sign in our  yard, because we’d just  moved. Like seven months ago. I loved our neighbors dearly. On the one hand, I hated to leave them. But on the other, I was growing alarmingly excited at the prospect of moving “home” to Granny’s. I worried what people would think. No one buys and sells seven months later, do they? I mean, do they?

We were about to find out.

As God would have it, I “ran into” our realtor the VERY NEXT DAY after talking to Hannah and our families about the house situation. Our friend Darren White is a public school teacher/real estate agent/ therapist/advisor/etc./etc. After I poured out the entire story to him in, like, one breath, he sat back and said a few awesome things:

  1. Yes, we could try to sell our house even though we’d just moved there. Seven months ago.
  2. Yes, people would speculate and wonder why we were selling our house so soon. But I needed to get over what people thought because–
  3. This whole situation could possibly have nothing to do with me. Maybe God was putting a whole plan in motion that served the wonderful family who bought the house our boys were babies in on one side, and my sister and her family on the other side. Chris and I were just the tools used in between, holding The House for someone else that didn’t quite need it. Until maybe now.

So, the sign went up on a Tuesday afternoon. Prayers continued to go up. My heart was at peace. The Lord had said to move and we were on our way home.

The day that the sign went up, one of the sweetest ladies this side of Birmingham walked into The House and decided to buy it.

Chris and I had truly been holding onto it for her until just the time she needed it. She’d recently been widowed and was moving to our area to be near her children. She felt that The House was a Godsend.

“This is the way. Walk in it.”

Was I sad to leave The House, with it’s swimming pool, seemingly endless storage, and the kitchen that made ladies swoon?

No. The House will always hold a special place in my heart, because the Lord used it to make me cling to Him; but I understand now that my family was placed there by God to hold onto it for the one who would call it home.

My home? It’s truly home. Sweet home. We traded our swimming pool flip flops for some mud boots.

boots

We traded the tree-lined streets of a quiet neighborhood for the drive that turns into a dusty lane leading to an old red barn, bawling cows,  and a sunset that takes your breath away every time.

beauty

God and His plans…they are so good. He knows what is perfect for each of our hearts. You know why?

Because He is the home of our hearts.

bird
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life…Look at the birds of the air: They do not sow or reap or gather into barns — and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” Matthew 6:25-26

 

 

P.S. The night that we closed on our house with Hannah and Jayson, they paid off their adoption in full. They are going to be our next door neighbors at our grandparents’ place, building a house that is just right for them and their boy. 🙂 A huge thanks to Darren White at White Real Estate and Michelle Benefield Smith at First Bank Mortgage for helping us all. You guys are awesome.

 

Posted in Devotionals, Uncategorized | 10 Comments

Finding Our Way Home (part 1)

Posted on June 29, 2016 by Paige Givens

They say home is where the heart is…but I have learned that home is where God says it is. And when I get my heart where God wants it to be, then home becomes where my heart is.

This is the story of how my family found our way home, and on the way, learned a lot about our human hearts.

Last year, Chris and I decided it was time to sell our home. We’d lived there for 8 years. We had brought our two boys through babyhood, toddlerhood, preschool, and early school years in this home, but we began to feel a stirring that it was time to move on.

I’m not a huge fan of change. I was way more reluctant than my husband in our search for a new home. He showed me houses all the time, and I would get an initial rush of excitement that was quickly washed away by my need for things to stay the same. We already had a perfectly good home. Why couldn’t we just stay here?

But that stirring was there. It was there. God was telling us that He wanted us to move. I prayed and brought my fears before the Lord.

What if the boys didn’t want to move?

What if we got homesick?

What if we couldn’t sell our house?

What I heard the Lord saying to me was that it was time to move. He didn’t answer each of my specific questions, but He did tell me to move.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” Psalm 32:8

We officially put our house on the market on a Thursday, and we had an offer the next Tuesday.

Okay, Lord. We’ll move.

So that’s it, right? We found our new home and lived happily ever after, right? Well, not exactly.

You see, we did find The House. A dream house. This beauty had all of the storage, all of the rooms, and the garages (yes, that’s plural) that we dreamed of. It had a picturesque yard, wonderful–WONDERFUL neighbors, and a kitchen that would make any lady swoon with it’s beauty. And it had a pool. A pool, ya’ll. And it became the very home I had to have for my family.

Like clockwork (well, maybe a rickety old clock…we were dealing in real estate, you know), we moved out of the house of our boys’ babyhood and moved into The House. It was right before Thanksgiving, and I envisioned lovely holiday gatherings in The House. My family would ooh and aah (and the ladies would swoon in the kitchen), and later my friends would plan swim parties for the summer (and the ladies would swoon in the kitchen), and my living room would always be clean of toys and shoes and papers because there was so much storage. I would spend all my time swooning over the kitchen instead of having to clean it; The House would always be perfect, and it would bring happiness and security to me.

Of course, it only took a day, or maybe even less, for me to realize that the reality of The House fell very short of my expectations. I didn’t invite family and friends over because I was too busy unpacking and cleaning, and unpacking and cleaning, and unpacking and cleaning. I seemed to quickly fill up any available storage space with toys, shoes, and papers, and then miraculously found more toys, shoes, and papers with no place to go. And there was NO swooning over the kitchen, because I was always cleaning it up. And worst of all, as the days went on, all of my fearful questions from earlier began to answer themselves.

What if the boys didn’t want to move? Mama, can we go back home now? Mama, can we just drive by and look at the other house? Can we just see it one more time? I liked my other room better, mama. 

What if I got homesick? I did. Yes, yes, I did. Like, sitting in my new huge closet with a shirt pressed against my mouth so no one would hear me crying homesick.

I just couldn’t understand it. Here we were in this beautiful gem of a home…I mean it was The House, for crying out loud…and my heart was so unhappy. It was scary to me how my feelings could change so quickly. I went from feeling our new house was “meant to be” to feeling like I hadn’t heard the Lord correctly. Had we moved to soon? To the wrong place?

The problem wasn’t with The House. It was with me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t meant to be our home, and soon, neither could Chris. But why? WHY would God tell us to move only for it to put us in such an upheaval?

It’s a horrible feeling to think that you’ve done something drastic, like moving your family, and that you’ve made some mistake. That you didn’t hear your Father like you thought you did. That now you’re paying some kind of price for the confusion.

But here are some things I learned:

1. God is not the author of confusion. Rather, He is the Author of Peace. 1 Corinthians 14:33 starts out, “For God is not a God of disorder but of peace…” It’s not hard to hear His voice. He’s not hiding His answers in some kind of treasure quest. The more time we spend with Him, in His Word, the more clear His answers become to us. And yes, sometimes we have to deal with the natural consequences of our mistakes, but God is not some being who sits up on a throne waiting to punish us when we “mess up”.

God’s answer was clear to me and to Chris. He wanted us to move. And we did. And He used our time in The House in a might way in our lives.

2. God meant for us to live in The House. I know now with every fiber of my being that God meant for us to live in The House. He knew how uncomfortable I would feel. How out-of-sorts and insecure I would eventually become. He knew I would be knocked off of my axis. So why did He allow all of it?

Well, I think He did it because I had placed all of my security and comfort into my home. I had depended on a worldly, earthly possession to give me my hope instead of Him. The home my babies grew up in was near and dear to my heart. I had so much pride and security there and so much hope placed in my new house. I thank God now that He gently nudged me away and turned my heart towards Him, painful as it was.

3. Prayer is a sweet, sweet thing. When I was in the floor crying in the huge, beautiful, walk-in closet that was so nicely organized, my prayers started out like this…”Lord, get me out of here. I want to go back home!”

I knew that this was irrational. I knew I couldn’t go back. I knew that it was crazy to be in a wonderful house and to want out. But I got so confused that all I could think about was my situation and my wants.

The great thing was that my Father never let go of me. Even though my prayers were so selfish and superficial, He continued to nudge me towards communication when my heart was so heavy. He nurtured me and grew me. He showed me that there are so many more important issues in this world. Things could be worse than not knowing where home is. I learned something very important about the privilege of praying.

Prayer may not always change the outcome of my situation, but it will change me.

Gradually, my prayers started changing. Instead of praying, “Lord, get me out of this! Make this house feel like home to me!”, I started praying ,”Lord, change me. Help me to learn contentment and joy in all surroundings.”

And He did. I began to crave my prayer times with Him. Chris did, too. He said to me once, “I think God has us here so that I can learn to pray.” I’m so thankful for the sweet time of prayer I shared with the Lord during this time.

4. It’s not all about me. I have the most horrible habit of being too introspective. I analyze myself way too much, which leads to much self-centeredness. So far, in this story I’ve shared, the words I, my, and me have been plastered in almost EVERY sentence. Our great friend and realtor, Darren White, snapped me out of this one day when I was pouring out my woes to him. He said to me–in the nicest way– “Have you ever thought about the fact that this whole situation could have nothing to do with you at all?” He pointed out that the precious family who’d bought our old house was totally meant to be there. That they were so happy and so glad to be in their new home. And he also pointed out what my husband had mentioned a few times to me…that maybe we were just in The House for a time until the ones who were meant to be there more permanently were ready to be moved by the Lord.

 

Feelings are so fickle. They can change like the wind. They can make our hearts go through a roller-coaster of emotions. But the Lord… the Lord never changes. His love remains the same no matter where we live, no matter how we react when He moves us to a new situation. God…He is the home of our hearts.

with you I am home

So, I learned to be content in The House. I learned that my security is in God and not in an earthly dwelling. And I lived happily ever after in The House, right? Well…God had something different in mind. Something that I would have never even considered or thought possible. Something that He’d put into work long before I came along. And it made perfect sense…

In order to save you from reading a novel here, I’ve divided this story into two parts. Stay tuned for part two. I can’t wait to share with you what He did to help us find our way home!

 

 

 

 

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He’s a Good, Good Father

Posted on June 16, 2016 by Paige Givens

My husband Chris is a wonderful father to our two little boys. He plays with them, laughs with them, follows through with what he tells them. He listens to them and disciplines them, because he loves those boys. He’s a good father.

He’s a good father because he had a good example. 21 years ago, his mom married the man who has been Chris’s dad since Chris was 12. The dad who took him to church and read the Bible to and with him. The dad who played basketball with him and went with him to buy his first truck. The dad who prayed with him. The one who drove him to pick me up on our first “date” when we were teenagers. The dad who never missed his football games in high school. The dad who our boys call Papa, because he is their grandfather on their daddy’s side.

Yes, my husband was blessed with a good father here on earth right when he needed one. But there were some hard “in-between” years when his mama had to do the work of both mom and dad for Chris and his brother. These were years that are considered pivotal in the lives of most children. Nine, Ten, Eleven years old. His mom loved her boys so much that she worked her fingers to the bone to provide a life for their little family all by herself.

A few years ago, my husband struggled  when he remembered that time in his life. Especially around Father’s Day. I remember him saying to me on one Father’s Day, “I didn’t have anyone to teach me how to shave…”

And there was so much packed into that statement. While he knew without a doubt that his mama loved him with a fierce, steadfast love–and has never stopped– he acutely felt the loss even all these years later of that father figure in his life before God brought the wonderful man he now calls dad to his family.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart…” Jeremiah 1:5

We have such a good Heavenly Father. A Father that Chris was able to carry his pain to even as an adult many years away from the sad little boy that wanted a dad and didn’t even have words to express that at the time.

As he prayed in his struggle, Chris knew that even as a child, he had a Father. A Father who heard him, who held him, who loved him.

You have a Father. He loves you. He sees you. He knows your pain. Even the things you don’t have words for…the little things that you think no one will understand.

And sometimes, He lets you know that He cares about those “little” things in a very real, very profound way.

Not even a week after Chris uttered those words out loud a few Father’s Days ago, we were going through some old photographs and we found this picture, which I believe without a doubt was sent straight from Heaven.

granddaddy

This is a picture of Chris and his precious Granddaddy…shaving.

“I knew you.”

Our Father in Heaven knew that His child would need this reminder that he had not been forgotten in those “in-between” years. He had given Chris a most special father figure in his granddaddy, and in his Uncle Wayne, and his Uncle Donnie. Chris and I both were reminded of what a good, good Father we serve. A Father who listens to us, to even the tiniest details, which really aren’t that tiny at all.

What a good, good Father. He knew my husband before he was born. He set him apart to be the wonderful husband, father, and leader that he is today.

Happy Father’s Day, Chris.

chris

Thank you, Lord, for being such a good, good Father.

I have to share this song, that’s not mine, of course! Listen and sing along to our Father!

http://www.vevo.com/watch/chris-tomlin/good-good-father-(audio)/USUV71502832

 

 

 

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He Uses Broken People

Posted on June 6, 2016 by Paige Givens

I am forgotten as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery.           Psalm 31:12

It’s not fun to watch something break. The vessel cracks and splits open, marring it’s once smooth and flawless surface.

One time I dropped a beautiful vase that we’d gotten for our wedding. I was so sad! I was going to use it for some pretty spring flowers I’d picked outside. Now it was on the floor in pieces.

It was in so many pieces, in fact, that when I tried to glue it back together, it was left with many cracks. The vase wasn’t whole anymore. It was no longer the pretty vase I’d planned to hold my flowers in.

I can’t remember why I decided to keep it, that cracked, broken vase. But I did. Later that year, I filled it with stones and put a candle inside, on a whim.

And then one night the power went out, and I needed some light. I lit the candle inside the broken vase, and I was struck by it’s beauty. The light that filled the inside spilled from the cracks into the room, illuminating what was once dark.

It wouldn’t have worked so well if the vase had not been broken. 

The light wouldn’t have spilled out. It would’ve been trapped inside, only knowing itself.

Have you ever been broken? He uses broken people, you know. You’re never too broken to be used again.

I don’t know your circumstances, what has brought you to the point of brokenness, whether it’s sickness, sin, or something unspeakable.

But I do know that He will still use you. In the Bible, we see all sorts of broken people being used time and time again.

Moses was broken, I’m sure! He had actually killed a man and ran off into the desert. On top of that, he had a physical limitation that could have broken him. But Moses argued with the LORD, saying, “I can’t do it! I’m such a clumsy speaker! Why should Pharaoh listen to me?” Exodus 6:30 NLT   God used him anyway. He used Moses big! Moses was an integral part of God’s freeing Israel from slavery.

Ruth was broken. She was destitute. She was a foreigner. She was now a widow. She was broken. But God used Ruth in a precious way. Through a God-sized turn of events, Ruth was redeemed by a kinsman, Boaz. And Ruth became a part of the genaology of Jesus! “Boaz was the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse. Jesse was the father of David the king.” Matthew 1:5-6 NIV

Peter was broken. He was ashamed of his human tendencies. Before his best friend, Jesus, died, Peter swore he would never deny Him. But just like our Lord foretold, Peter denied ever knowing Jesus three times on the night He died. And he was so broken. “The Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He had told him, “Before a rooster crows today, you will deny Me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.” Luke 22:61-62 NIV But God was not through with Peter! He ended up being the “rock” of the church, “and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” Matthew 16:18

I could go on and on with biblical proof of how God uses the broken. But I will let you read for yourself and make those discoveries!

On the first few days of school, when my students use their perfect, shiny new crayons, it never fails that one child colors a little too hard and his crayon breaks. He stares at the broken crayon and looks at me with dismay.

“It’s broken!”

And it always my joy to tell the class, “The great thing about a broken crayon is that it still colors. Sometimes even brighter than before!”

IMG_3033

You may be like that broken crayon, thinking you should be trashed. But friends, your job is not done. He is getting ready to use your colors in His beautiful work of art!

Jesus didn’t come into my heart to be locked in, knowing only me. He longs to shine out of me so that others can see His goodness, His light. How better to shine than through the brokenness, the cracks left by shame, sadness, and failures. The cracks that He pieced back together! I may not look as shiny and new as I did once before, but I’m better designed for showing the Jesus inside of me now!

Know any broken people? Are you? I have good news for you, friend.  He is in the business of using broken people! Let  Him shine through you today!

Give Us Broken Hearts  by Renee McGullion and Paige Givens, copyright 2014

 

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The Miracle of Words

Posted on May 12, 2016 by Paige Givens

This morning I witnessed a miracle in my classroom. In the span of a few moments, faces were lifted, bonds were made, and friendships were salvaged.

The year is coming to an end. Some weeks it feels as if first grade is racing ahead, no matter how hard I try to push it back. Other weeks drag by slowly, one day crawling towards the next.

The last week and a half has crawled by slowly. There have been grouchy words. Pouty faces. Hurt feelings. Tattling voices. Whiny tones.It started out as gradually as a spring rain shower. But lately it’s been a full-blown storm. No one person is to blame for the shift in the atmosphere, but I can point out one person who has grouched the loudest, stood the stiffest, and frowned the most.

Me.

Between the committees, the meetings, the paperwork, the tests, the grades, the field days, and the field trips, my classroom has somewhat lost a little bit of the routine that makes us happiest! As a result, we have become out of sorts, resulting in arguments and fights and tears and rifts.

Yesterday I drove home thinking of the ways I was going to make the fussing stop. What consequence would I need to enforce in order to MAKE these kids stop fussing so much–and of course this, in turn, would make me stop fussing so much, right?

My idea bucket came up empty time and time again. And then, I thought of this…

Ephesians 4:29 “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.”

Could it be that simply saying the nice things inside of us would make a difference? That grace would fall on us all with “building up” words?

I have a wonderful class. They are smart, kind, and funny. I know that they have words to build each other up, but I realized that lately in the end-of-year rush, I have not heard nor have I encouraged those words.

So this morning, before doing ANYTHING, I pointed out the problem that I am seeing in our little classroom community. I pointed out the fussing, and asked the kids what kinds of things we’d been doing because of the fussing.

Their responses…

We’ve been tattling.

We’ve been fighting.

We’ve been yelling.

We’ve been hurting each other.

We’ve been sad.

So I pointed out the obvious. How our faces look, how our body language has changed. How we’ve lost some of our “happy”. They glumly agreed, their eyes shifting around.

And then, I told them we were going to practice saying only kind words. Only. Kind. Words.

And it started with me. I picked a friend who has been on the receiving end of my fussing more than once lately and looked him in the eyes and told him he was one of the best readers in first grade. I told him that I was proud of the reader that he had become and how hard he has been working at school.

Then I also told him I liked his shoes.

He sat up straighter. His cheeked got a little pink. His eyes started twinkling and his lips started twitching.

He said both things made him feel so happy, but that one made him feel better than the other. We wanted to know what made him the happiest and he said “the part about me being a good reader. It made me know I was smart.”

Another child said, “Mrs. Givens, when you said he was a good reader, then we all knew  he had to be a good reader.”

And I was reminded of how powerful words are, especially mine, the teacher’s.

No one mentioned the shoes.

We realized that while nice words are always wanted, words about us  make us happier than words about our clothes, hair, and appearance.

“So, now we practice!” I said.

They got into groups of three. Their groups were not exactly their best playground buddies, either. One by one, they took turns looking at each other and telling nice words about each friend. They were a little hesitant at first, but as the words began to flow, the atmosphere shifted.

And that’s when the miracle happened.

Before my eyes, faces lifted. Eyes gleamed. Backs became straighter. Ugly words became forgotten.

You’re the nicest friend I’ve had.

You always help me if I drop my crayons.

You listen to Mrs. Givens so well in math. You’re so good at math.

You always play with me when no one else will.

Janeice

You are smart.

You are a good listener.

I like the way you always take care of stuff.

I like you.

Lacie

They smiled. They giggled. They blushed. They glowed.

All because of nice words. 

I stood by my counter just watching and blinked my eyes rapidly and cleared my throat a few times to keep the tears at bay. The transformation was so quick and so touching.

All because of nice words.

The change remained throughout the day, with only a handful of moments that needed reminders about nice words.

I know that we will still need reminders. I know all of our problems aren’t solved. But today, I watched lives change in my classroom. Because of nice words.

It got me to thinking. What if the fantastic group of teachers that I work with got together in small groups, looked each other in the eyes, and told each friend something great about that person?

What if my  group of friends sincerely told each other of the good that we see in each of us?

What if families spent more time saying nice words than they did fussing and running from one place to the next?

The miracle of words could eventually change the world! I know for sure that it did in my classroom today. 🙂

hug

 

All pictures used with permission.
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