Encouraging Words for Teachers by Jaye Lewis

                                  

The Difference a Teacher Can Make  by Jaye Lewis

                                                                             

             Steve, a twelve year old boy, with barely, literate, alcoholic parents, was about to be lost, forever, by the U.S. education system.  Remarkably, he could read, yet, in spite of his reading skills, Steve was failing.  He had been failing since first grade, as he was passed on from grade to grade.  Big as he was, looking more like a teenager than a twelve year old, Steve went unnoticed...until Ms. White.

            Ms. White was a smiling, young, beautiful redhead, and Steve was in love!  For the first time in his young life, he couldn't take his eyes off his teacher; yet, still he failed.  He did no  homework, and he was always in trouble with Ms. White.  His heart would break, under her sharp words, and when he was punished for failing to turn in his homework, he felt just miserable!

            In the middle of the first semester of school, all the seventh grade was tested for reading and math.  Steve hurried through his tests, and continued to dream of other things, as the days wore on.  His heart was not in school, but in the woods, where he often escaped alone, trying to shut out the sights, sounds and smells of his alcoholic parents.  No one checked on him to see if he was safe.  No one knew he was gone, because no one was sober enough to care.  Oddly, Steve never missed a day of school. 

            One day, "Steve!"  Ms. White's impatient voice broke into his daydreams.  Startled, he turned to look at her.  "Pay attention!" So, Steve gazed at Ms. White, with adolescent adoration, as she began to go over the test results for the seventh grade.

            Ms. White pinned Steve to his seat with a sharp stare, then her eyes searched his face.  With a sigh, she said to the class, "You all did fair, except for one, and it breaks my heart to tell you this, but..." She hesitated.

            Ms. White, again, fixed her eyes on Steve. "...the smartest boy in the seventh grade is failing my class!"  She just stared at Steve, as the class looked around at him, and Steve dropped his eyes, and examined his hands.

            After that, it was war!!  Steve still never did his homework, but the punishments and the lectures, became more severe, and the pleadings took over.  "Just try it...ONE WEEK!  Give yourself a chance!  Don't give up on your life!  Steve!  Please!  I care about you!"

            Wow!  Steve's attention was immediately captured!  Someone cared about him?  Someone young and beautiful!  Someone, totally, unattainable, and perfect, CARED ABOUT HIM!!!

            Steve went home that night, taking one look around the slovenly hovel.  Both parents passed out, in various stages of undress, and the stench was overpowering!!  He, quickly gathered up his camping gear, a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and this time, his school books.  Then he headed for the woods.

            Next day, he was at school, on time, and he waited for Ms. White to enter the classroom.  Here she came, all sparkle and smiles!  God!  She was BEAUTIFUL to the adolescent boy, as he yearned for her smile to turn on him.  It did not.

            Ms. White, immediately, gave a quiz on the homework of the night before.  Steve hurried through the test and was the first to hand in his paper.  With a look of surprise, Ms. White took his paper.  Then, obviously puzzled, she began to look over it.  Steve walked back to his desk, his heart pounding within his chest. As he sat down, he couldn't resist another look at the lovely woman.

            There, on Ms. White's face, was a look of total shock!  She glanced up at Steve, then down, then up.  Suddenly, her face broke into a radiant smile.   In his first seven years of school, Steve had just passed his first test!  And he had gotten every answer right!

            From that moment, life changed for Steve.  Life at home, never got better, but life still changed.  The change that took place was within Steve's heart, all because of ONE teacher, who cared.

© Jaye Lewis, January 26, 2001

 This is a true story.  I know it, because Steve is my husband, and I am the love of his life, as he is mine.  Steve is a wonderful husband and a loving father.  He has excelled in life, having three careers, and now embarking on a fourth.  There has been no seed money.  He came from nothing, and so did I.  Everything he has is because of the grace of a Merciful God.  Steve has worked hard, every day of his life, since Ms. White inspired and encouraged him.  I will always be grateful to her.

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Lost by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

On January 24, 1988, I was a resident in a psychiatric ward.  No, I was not a nurse or a nurse's aid.  I was a patient.  On January 10, 1988, I had a complete nervous breakdown.  You might say that I was at the bottom of my life, and you would be right.  But I was also at the beginning.  In that psychiatric ward I learned about a deeper part of myself, perhaps a better part of myself, which began to understand just how alike we are as human beings.

The hospital was in the midst of an experiment, and you might say that we were the lab rats.  In that hospital the young were mixed with the old.  The sad and anxious were mixed with the truly crazy, and the violent were included with the nonviolent.  What were they thinking?  It makes you wonder who were truly the crazy ones.  

I disclose this with gratitude, because I learned more in that six weeks, about love, sacrifice, understanding, and acceptance, than I had ever learned in my entire life.  I learned that in the eternal scheme of things, I am no better than anyone.  I’m no better than that sweet soul who had lost her mind long ago, who believed that she was inhabited by a well-known Country singer, whom she believed lived in her stomach.  She argued with him constantly, often shouting orders to “Get out!”

Yes, it was funny and alarming, but I made up my mind to get to know her, to find out what made her who she was.  In a strange sort of “we-come-from-different-worlds” friendship, we got to know one another as well as we could.  I learned that something terrible had happened to her when she was young, and she learned that I was safe, that I did not judge her, and that I would not betray her.

I was also no better than the young man who shouted and threatened, and chased people around the room, including my new, friend and me.  We heard his shout, and when we saw him racing at us.  We leaped up and ran, around and around the room, hoping he would not catch us.  When he finally was tackled and calmed down, we stopped running, and we just looked at one another.  Then I shouted that a violent man like he should be removed from our ward.  The nurse replied that he had never harmed a living soul.

“YET!”  My friend and I retorted together. 

We, suddenly, looked at each other, laughing hysterically, and for one brief moment, the scales of confusion fell from her eyes, and she knew me.  Then, her reason clouded over again, and we were strangers, but I’d seen her soul, and I knew that somewhere in the great hereafter, we would meet again.  Then, we will know one another.  We will remember, and we will be friends, and we will not be ashamed.

There is so much tragedy in this world.  I was one of the blessed ones.  I have a strong, loving family.  I had good medical care, a strong will, and a determination to get well.  In March, 1988, I left the hospital with a clean bill of health, and I never returned.  However, I will never forget the unusual, hurting people within.  I think of them all the time.  I tell their stories, as I am telling you, and I will miss them and wonder about them all the days of my life — those tragic, suffering souls, who will never know the impact they had on this single life, forever.

We are the same, all of us, no matter how we protest that we are not.  No matter the color of our skin, or our religion, or our lack of faith, or our political beliefs.  Our petty grievances and prejudices are like so much chaff, blown by the wind.  None of these things will matter, when we stand before God, judged for the works we have done on this earth, whether good or ill.

Jesus said that He will gather all of us together, and He will separate us, as a shepherd separates his sheep from his goats.  We will not escape His notice, anymore than our bigotry, our jealousy, our rage, or our evil intents and actions will remain hidden.  And yes, my friends, we are, each of us, guilty of these things.

The wife beater — you will no longer be able to hide.  The wife who betrays her husband — you will be found out.  The gossip, the liar, the proud, and those who do their evil works in secret, you will be made known.

Can anyone escape their shame?  Yes you can.  Yes I can.  I can repent.  Every day.  Every hour.  Every moment, if necessary, and I can live my life reaching for the compassion within me, looking for new ways to convey my respect and love for each individual I meet.  I will fail.  I will fail today.  But that is what repentance is all about.  Going back before the only perfect person who ever walked the earth.  Going to the Only, One, True God, asking His forgiveness.  Humbly, before Him, I can repeat my sins of the day, and cast them at His feet.

Oh, it may seem simplistic, but it is not.  It is simple.  It is the easiest thing in the world, and the safest place to be.  All I need to do is throw off the mantle of pride and self-righteousness, and know that I am forgiven by His grace.

These are the thoughts that are on my heart today.  Perhaps I am sick of the assault upon repentance that I see in my own American Presidential Primary.  Of course there is repentance, forgiveness, and redemption, even for Newt Gingrich.  And there is condemnation, even for the self-proclaimed, perfectly pure Mitt Romney.  But, you know, the self-righteous never see.  I have to admit that I have only this moment realized what irritates me about Romney.  It’s his pompous belief that he has never done anything wrong.

I do not say these things in defense of Newt Gingrich.  He has made it abundantly clear that he is perfectly capable of defending himself.  I do, however, say these things to defend the free grace that God gives to us, if we will only accept it and admit that we have sinned.  That grace, for which we are so undeserving, that we can receive freely, if only we ask, comes from the God of all grace, who deserves to hear us say, “Father, I have sinned.”

I hate when the grace of God is maligned, as though He has no power, as though His arm is too short to save.  If that were true then I would still be a lost soul, without hope.  But I am no longer lost, because God came to me, and He made me His own, not because He needed me, but because I needed Him.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

https://twitter.com/#!/encouragingjaye

www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blogspot.com

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Overburdened by American Politics by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

I suppose that I should send a copy of this blog post to each of the candidates in every election in the United States.  I doubt they would listen, but then, maybe they would understand just how much they exhaust us, and sometimes disgust us.

Yes, I, as an American voter, do become disgusted with the political sniping, barbs, innuendos, lies, and cruel remarks.  I am disgusted with the new definition of “truth.”  Remember when your grandmother, at least my grandmother, said, “If you can’t say something good about someone, then say nothing at all?” Another grandmother of mine used to say, “There are three sides to every story:  yours, mine, and the truth.”  Truth would be nice for a change.  And when did it become okay to claim truth when facts are twisted, so that truth is no longer truth, but a lie?  Billy Graham tells of a woman who came to him and asked, "Dr. Graham, how can I stop exaggerating all the time?"  Billy Graham's answer was, "Call it a lie."

A wise teacher once said to me, “Right is right when nothing is right, and wrong is wrong when everything is right.”  Meaning, no matter how you flavor it, snipes, barbs, innuendos, lies, and cruel remarks are never the truth, no matter how blind society becomes.

You know, in the early days of our Country, we had real heroes, who risked “their lives, their fortunes, and their honor,” all in the defense of liberty.  Patrick Henry, a fiery red-head, and true patriot, said, “I care not which course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”  Where is today’s Patrick Henry?  Where is today’s George Washington, who could have been, but who refused to be, King?  Where are the heroes of our time?  Where is honor and truth?  We once knew what that was.  

To my friends from other countries, you know of what I speak.  It is written in the hearts of all of us.  We long for honor and truth, and when we don’t have it, we are not fooled by false heroes.  We know truth, even if, as it is in some countries, you dare not speak it.

In America, with all our faults and imperfections, I am free to write this blog and criticize, by name, if I want to, every leader in my country, from the President of the United States, down to the smallest clerk in the smallest town.  I can speak my mind, out in the open, and disagree, and most of the time, no one will molest me.  In spite of the many ways that I am disappointed in my leaders, I’m proud of that right that I have to speak out, and to have my speech protected.

I may not be thrilled with the selection of people that I have to choose from, in an American election, but if I want to, I can decline to vote, and stay home.  Or I can choose whom I think is the best candidate.  Or I can even vote for the least worst candidate.  Sometimes we have great choices:  Ronald Regan; Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Harry Truman, Teddy Roosevelt, Bill Clinton.  Great Presidents, not perfect men.  Then, there are others who were not so great.  I will let you choose the losers.

My mother always said, “The office of President makes the man, not the other way around.”  She, of all people, inspired my interest in the American political process, and I have never been able to shake the need to know, “who’s on first.”  Now that I have a laptop on my lap, and I have the internet, Google, Facebook, and the World Wide Web, I have at my fingertips more information in a minute, than my mother had available in a year.  And, still, my mother was more informed than I.  I remember that fondly about her, and the memory always makes my eyes sting and my heart smile.

To many of my friends overseas, if you live in a repressed country, where fear follows every utterance of your tongue, do not give up in working for change.  Change, no matter where you are, comes from within.  Small changes within oneself can make big changes possible.  If you live in a free country, the message is the same.  Change comes from within.

In my own country, you don’t have to be a genius to see the things that are wrong.  Read the remarks after every news article on the web:

“The President is perfect,” if you are a Democrat.

“The President is evil,” if you are a Republican.

“You must vote for this candidate, or you are not a true Republican,” says the Republican establishment.

“If you don’t vote for this candidate, then you are at war with Free Enterprise and Capitalism,” again says the Republican establishment.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t like to be told who I must vote for; and I certainly don’t like to be told that I’m some kind of traitor for not buckling under.  If you try to control me, I am likely to do exactly what you do not want me to do.  I’m not easily pushed, and bullying has never worked.

My friends overseas are obviously confused about what they see on our news, so I will let you know, that the very arguing that you see on TV, while often offensive, is the direct result of total freedom.  In the end, we are still friends.  We still love our country, and we honor our laws.  If necessary, when attacked we fight as a unit.  When you harm one of us, you harm all of us.

As Americans, let us remember the day of September 11th.  While the dust still filled the sky, and our hearts and country was wounded, spontaneously, on the steps of our Capitol, all of our Congress members broke out into one of our favorite hymns:  God Bless American.  Let us understand that they are our leaders, flawed though they may be.  So, I guess my message today is as much for me, as it is for you.

We live in a blessed nation, which most of us believe is “under God.”  We care about one another.  Our hearts swell with pride, and our eyes fill with tears, at the first strains of our national anthem.  In our strange and imperfect way, we love each other.  We love our country, and no matter our faith, most of us, love God.  We may see Him in different colors, races, and creeds, but we all know in our hearts, that we need not fear that He might not know who He is.  Because He does.

For whatever strange and wonderful reason, America is blessed by God.  We know it, and we wonder why, but then, He knows why.  God knows why.  Have faith.  We are still in His hands.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

www.twitter.com/encouragingjaye

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Worthless by Jaye Lewis

Wonderfully Made  by Jaye Lewis

 I was supposed to be nothing.  That was the plan.  At nine years old, my father screamed into my face.

“YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FAILURE!  YOU WILL NEVER BE ANYTHING!  YOU’LL NEVER BE ANYTHING BUT A NOTHING, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE!!!  

I believed him.  I forgot that I was created by a Great Loving God, Who “knit me together in my mother’s womb," as promised in Psalm 139:13

Despairing, because of  my father's words, I worked hard at being a “nothing.”  I stopped studying for my classes, in school.  I stopped dreaming the dreams that often shape our future, and I barely scraped by.

By the time I was in seventh grade, I overheard my parents talking about how wonderful life would be for them if I had never been born, because, being the youngest, I would be out of the way, and they could follow their dreams.  I believed them, and I forgot what God said about me.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?  Though she may forget, I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."  Isaiah 49:15-16a.

By the time I was fifteen, my final ninth grade report card read, “She has incredible general knowledge, but no specific knowledge.  She’ll never become anything continuing on this course.”  I believed my teacher, and I continued on my worthless course, reading and studying on my own, everything from history through science, and as my teacher said, I began to have much general knowledge.

I read the Bible, which was a forbidden book, according to the religion of my childhood, and I began to know the God of the Bible and His great love for me.  Yet, still I believed I was a failure, even weird.  Somewhere, in the midst of that, I began to write, and I discovered that with no one to talk to, I began to talk to God.  I did not understand the truth of Psalm 139:14, which says that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Years came and went, and darkness was all around me, but there, in the darkness, I found the light of God’s presence.  Always there.  Always comforting.  Unknowing, as I was, God was always with me.  I discovered the truth about the presence of God in Psalm 139:7-12 

"Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.’”

I discovered that even if I did not know God, He knew me.  There was much darkness in my life.  I had no one to believe in me, but somehow, by the grace of God, I knew that God believed in me.  I stumbled through many a dark valley, yet I discovered that I could not run from God.  He was always with me.  I discovered that in being hurt, I could seek to heal others.  In being lonely, I could reach out and erase another’s loneliness.  In believing myself to be a failure, I could encourage others to succeed.  I could be a woman of honor.  A woman of truth.  I could change my course.  And when I wrote, as I did from an early age, I could give hope to others.

I wish I had known God from the beginning.  I wish that instead of a religious home, that I had grown up in a Godly one.  I wish that in my teens there had been someone to influence my life, and change my course.  However, even though I remember, painfully, my lonely teenage years, I can testify that my present happiness and fulfillment came from no one except God.

You see, it is God who brought me into the pleasant pasture of my middle years, and on into the beauty of my present day.  I can look to no one but Him, for the joys in my life…my wonderful husband, my beautiful daughters, and my precious friends.

I am an award winning writer through His grace.  I have completed my first book.  I don’t expect it to be my last.  A lot of people have lent me a hand in this process, but God alone brought me here.  So now, in my world that is so filled with His light, I still look for those opportunities to be alone with God.  And as I look back, into my teens, I realize what a great gift it was to spend those lonely nights and days with Him.  I have also learned that the ugly words that others speak about me, say more about them, than they say about me.  

So do not listen to negativity.  Your Heavenly Father declares in His WORD, that you are “fearfully and wonderfully made.”  Believe Him.  You are wonderful.  Totally unique. God expects great things from you.  So now you can expect them from yourself.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Those Who Are Alone at Christmas by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

The holidays can be a hard time for those who are missing loved ones.  There are so many sad feelings that are difficult to share.  Thoughts that you might hear, if you listen closely are:

“Christmas is simply not Christmas without Mama’s smile.”

“I miss Daddy’s laugh.”

“My brother always made Christmas special.”

“I miss all of us going caroling and laughing when we hit the sour notes.”

“Midnight Mass as a family.”

“Christmas morning church.”

“My heart will not stop breaking for the loss of  the love of my life.”

You may not hear the words spoken from the lips of a friend or loved one, but if you listen with your heart, you will hear.

Christmas is Over  by Jaye Lewis

Christmas is over,

The New Year's almost here.

The tree lights are darkened,

I sure do miss you, dear.

The stockings are empty,

As is my aching heart;

Yet I needed to tell you

Before the New Year's start.

I'll always love you;

You're always in my prayer.

If ever you need me,

My thoughts will be right there.

Although there's a distance

Between us, I still smile,

Because I can hold you

In my heart for just awhile.

I realize God gave me,

A gift I know is true.

The gift that he gave me

Is all my love for you.

I don't know the reason

God gives and takes away.

I just know this season

I turn to him and pray.

"Bless all my loved ones,

The ones for whom I care.

Keep them in safety,

Until I can be there."

I know that God loves me,

And He loves you, too.

So in His season,

I shed my tears for you.

© Jaye Lewis, 1999

With Love to All Those Who Are Alone This Christmas,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for the New Year: A Healthy Life by Jaye Lewis

I have never been an athlete.  I’ve never had much interest in sports, ever since I stopped playing touch-football with the boys.  I tried tennis.  I hit the ball too high, too long, and way over into left field.  I’ve tried softball.  I don’t know why it’s called “softball,” because it felt pretty hard when it hit me in the eye.  I tried running, but I couldn’t get serious about it unless someone was chasing me.  I tried swimming, but even though I float like a cork, and have had numerous lessons, I can’t seem to get over the idea, that I’m really going to drown.  Finally, I settled on walking, and for a number of years, I walked three to five miles a day. 

I’m never going to be an athlete, but I make do, especially in my mid-life years.  Which brings a question to my mind.  When did I hit mid-life?  I remember that when I hit thirty, I thought my life was over.  I remember my fortieth birthday, I was suddenly “over the hill.”  However, it was at fifty that I began to discover “me.”  I didn’t have to run, jump, play tennis, or prove myself in any athletic way.  I could just “be.”

Fifty became the beginning of my age of enlightenment.  I figured that as long as I was in fair health, I had another fifty or so years ahead of me.  Then came the life threatening asthma attacks.  A disease that had been merely an annoyance, was now in control of my life.  Within months I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and arthritis.  At fifty-five I found out about my diabetes, and I became fascinated with pharmaceuticals, hoping that they could give me quality of life. 

One day, when I was least expecting it, I became free.  I discovered that God had given me a priceless gift.  Time.  I began by noticing the sunsets, and I had the time to stop and really wonder, at the beauty and magnitude of it all.  I moved on to the sunrises, and I quickly found out that if I wasted the early morning on self-pity, I missed the loveliest part of the day.  I began to notice feelings of gratitude.  I found myself with time to witness the changing of the seasons:  that first whisper of spring, with its tender green shoots; the warmth of summer, with it’s flowers, bees and butterflies; the rustling of copper-colored leaves beneath my feet in the fall; and the hush of that first winter snow.
           

When illness would hit me, leaving me alone and housebound, I began to enjoy the solitude. I had time to reflect, gather my thoughts, and pray at leisure.  I found that I was experiencing this mid-life season, and I was no longer missing every moment, shackled to the chains of worry and what might have been.  Worrying about tomorrow only served to make me overlook the blessings of today.
           

It’s not always easy.  A few loads of laundry and a pile of dishes can take an entire day; but then I don’t push myself much.  I often neglect to make the bed, as I watch the rosy glow of dawn meet the rising sun.  I have time to walk our wooded acre with my little dachshund straining at the leash.  I read the signs with him, sniffing the air, and gazing out at whatever takes my fancy.  I spend my time by studying the sky with the same intensity that my little dog studies the ground.
           

I get to meet the day, every day.  I get to say good-night to the ever deepening sky.  I’ve studied a lot of sunsets, in the last fifteen years, and I’ve never seen two that were exactly alike.  I’ve learned to know my Creator as I never have before, and I’ve made my own mind up about the mysteries of life.  I am quite certain that all of this creation is no mere accident.
           

I feed the birds, and I take great delight in their multicolored hues.  I drag a chair to stand on, so that I can fill the feeders without help.  I say a prayer as I struggle, thankful to be able to do something for someone besides myself.  I often chuckle at all the pretensions of my former youth.  I take great delight in my life.  I thank God for all the precious little things of every day.  It has take me many years, but I have finally come to understand what real health is.  It is a health of the soul, and when I have real health, then I truly have everything.

© Jaye Lewis, 2000

With Love,

Jaye Lewis

May God Grant You a New Year Filled With Happiness!!!!!

Miracle in a Manger by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

Christmas is for children.  Children of all ages.  Everyone who is a child at heart.  So let us not forget the child who started it all.  A little boy, moments old, filled the world with hope and love.  I cannot tell the story better than the Gospel of Luke, in the Bible, but I can give you a peek into my heart at Christmas.  I see four dogs, keeping their watch by night, peeking into a manger where the Son of God and Savior of the World lies sleeping.  I see a night where I would have wanted to be, should I have lived then, just me and my dogs, in a manger.

Miracle in a Manger  by Jaye Lewis

Miracle in a manger

On a midnight clear,

Singing filled the universe

From angels far and near.

Shepherds heard the story

Marveling at the words;

Making haste to see the King

They left their grazing herds.

On the climb up to the manger

Deep within a darkened cave,

They could hear the shushing voices

Telling animals to behave.

And then the shepherds saw the cave

Send forth a golden glow.

The light spilled down the mountainside

And filled the valley below.

Stars that twinkled in the night

Shouted out with silent joy.

To celebrate the miracle

Of Mary’s baby boy.

Around the tiny manger

The animals stood in awe,

And something deep within them

Made them celebrate what they saw.

The ox began it’s lowing

As Donkey began to bray.

“Shout out all you creatures!

Christ is born for us this day.”

Then other creatures, great and small,

Moved forth to take a peep

As Mary held her little one,

Who lay there fast asleep.

Mini-dachshund gazed in wonder,

As mini-schnauzer smiled;

Shepherd dog and Pomeranian

Beheld the little child.

“Rejoice!” Sang angel voices.

“Behold a marvelous thing!

In Bethlehem of David

Is born our Christ the King!”

© Jaye Lewis, December, 2011

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A BLESSED NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Those Who Are Searching for Answers by Jaye Lewis

When I was a little girl I had a very big faith.   I loved Jesus with all my heart, and I was willing to fight for him and trust in his goodness.  I remember a church service in a cemetery, once, where the soil was so rocky, there was no where to kneel, so I knelt on rocks.  I was glad to do it.  Proud to do it.  And then it started to pour down rain.  In my passionate child’s heart, that made the service even better.  I loved God, and I wanted to serve Him.  That was my way.

As I grew older, especially after being ripped from my childhood home, and everything familiar and loved, that is when the doubts crept in.  How could God allow so much heartache in my life?  Why did my mother spiral down into depression, and later, manic depression?  Why was my father an alcoholic?  Why was my family so poor?  Why were the nuns, the priests, and children whom I did not know, so cruel?  Why did no one like me?  And why was I ridiculed because of my faith?

By the time I was fourteen, I began to doubt the very existence of God.  If there was a God (note how the word “if” crept in) why would He allow so much sorrow?  If there was a God, wouldn’t He have given me a good family?  If there was a God, did He love me?  And if He loved me, why did He not take me away from the people who on a day to day basis made my life miserable?

From doubt and “if,” I moved to certainty, then back to doubt and “if” again.  Then a strange revelation came my way, I began, at the age of fourteen, to read the Ethics of Aristotle.  It was there that I was introduced to logic.  Logic, said Aristotle, proved the existence of God.  Something, or Someone, came first, and that Something or Someone had to have created everything else.  That revelation impacted my life in a profound way.

Now, became the real journey.  Since there is a God, does He love me?  My father often said, “Why should He?”  Then, dear old Dad would launch into all the reasons why it was impossible for God to love me.  I was a little girl, barely in my teens, and I was offered no hope of God’s love.

When I arrived into adulthood, I still struggled with the question, does God love me?  Is there a reason why He could love me?  Was I lovable?  Was I forgettable?  And when I was taught in Sunday School that God loved me as my own father loved me, I thought I had found my answer.  No.  God didn’t love me, just as my father didn’t love me.  I was devastated and cast adrift.

However, instead of leaving me in the dark, God never let go of me.  When He seemed farthest away, as I’ve matured, I have found Him closest to me.  I only wish that I had clung to Him with a stubborn faith, instead of blaming Him for everything bad that ever happened to me.  Through the years — and I have lived quite a few — God has never left me, and He has told me about that whole father/Father confusion:

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…” Isaiah 49:15-16a NIV

So, though my mother accused me of incredibly awful things, whether she was in her right mind or not; though my father made it quite clear with his insults and cruelty that he did not love me; though my brother showed contempt for me, holding himself up as an example; whether my sister spread horrible lies about me; whether any of these things, and worse were said about me, God knew me, and He never forgot me.  I am so special to Him, that He engraved me on the palms of His hands.  God not only tells me that I am special, but He knows me, again I know this from His own words:

“You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar.   You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue You, LORD, know it completely.”  Psalms 139:1-4 NIV

If only I had a Bible teacher when I was young.  If only I had been led to understand just how much God loves me.  However, I went to Catholic School, in the old Catholic Church, where we were taught that reading the Bible for oneself was dangerous.  We were not capable of understanding without the Church’s interpretation, we were told.  I hope that times have changed, and that Roman Catholic children today are taught of God’s love through His Word, the Bible.  Perhaps if more people had been taught about the love story between God and us, we would live in a different world.  God's love for us is the greatest love story of all time.

Searching for Miracles  by Jaye Lewis

Before God spoke the universe into existence He knew my name.

Before He created the atmosphere He held me in His heart.

Before He created the oceans, the land, the plants and creeping things He chose the color of my hair.

Before He created the animals and before He created the first man He loved me.

He placed within Adam’s body all of the DNA of every human being who would ever walk the earth, and within him he placed the color of my eyes.

Before He knit me together within my mother’s womb he cherished the sound of my laugh.

Before I shed my first tear he felt my pain.

Before my sins, my sorrow, and my stubborn disobedience, he chose to carry them to the Cross.  He hung there His blood pouring out for me.

Why he chose to do this I cannot comprehend.  God wanted me to be his own child.  How can that be?

With all of my flaws and character defects He wanted me to believe in Him, and He gave me the grace to believe in myself.

God loves me with a fire that can never be quenched.  I am special to him, even if I am not special to anyone else, including myself.

I have tried to perfect myself, and I have failed.

I have tried to believe the world’s message, but I have found no answers.

I have followed the paths forged by others only to find disaster at every bend in the road.

Only God has given me the answers that I have sought.  Peace.  Love.  Fulfillment.

The change in my life is not a complicated one.

It’s not about how good I am or how I pray or how often I go to church.  It’s not about money or fame or popularity.

I cannot speak for others.  They must decide for themselves.

I only know that the world has given me no happiness.

After searching my entire life, I have only been able to find the answers to my questions, on my knees at the foot of the Cross.

© Jaye Lewis, 2003

So, in spite of me, God pursued me, He caught me up in His arms, and He loves me.  God.  Jesus.  My Redeemer.  My Messiah.  And in this time of Advent, as we prepare for Christmas in so many secular ways, let us not forget to prepare for the celebration of Jesus Christ’s birth.  Our lives may not be perfect.  We may be alone.  We may be surrounded by people who do not love us.  Our dreams may seem far away, but 2000 years ago God so loved the world, each of us, that He sent His One and Only Son who showed us how to live, and who died for our sins, that we may have eternal life and live with Him forever.  In this time of chaos, that is what I cling to.  If that is not an answer, then I don’t know what one is.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

FACEBOOK:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000296699307

An Intimate Connection With God by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

Yesterday I was able to go outside and garden.  That is one of my passions.  When we moved into our house, fourteen years ago, we inherited a yard of desolation, nothing but  boulders, clay, and weeds.  Rescuing the yard has been a slow, tortoise-like experience.  If you hurry, or try to garden during drought, you merely break the handles on your tools.  It’s been discouraging, to say the least, but thankfully we’ve learned.

At 65, and in poor health, every plant that takes root and flourishes, fills me with the most glorious gratitude that I have a God who cares so much for me.  Jesus said, “See the lilies of the field; they neither sow nor reap; yet not even Solomon, in all his glory was arrayed as one of these.”  So, to me it is obvious that gardening is, after prayer, the most intimate connection I have with God.

I think of Jesus words, when I see a seedling, that I have planted, take root, grow, and bloom.  I know that I only did the easy part.  I place the seed into the ground, water it and God does the rest.  It is difficult to choose my favorite plants, since I love them all, but if I must choose, then I choose my seedling trees.  Eleven years ago, we had two beautiful birch trees, near the house.  They were breathtaking, until they died from the bronze birch borer.  Then, the dogwood, by the road, gave up the ghost.  The only thing left was an overstressed red maple, that we hope to save even this summer.

I began my garden’s rebirth by planting seedling trees from the National Arbor Day Foundation.  Quite miraculously they grew and flourished.  I was stunned.  I felt as though those little trees were shouting “Jaye!  I love you!!”  Silly, huh?  Yet, that experience helped me to see what God wants of all of us.  Perhaps with each plant, with each tree, with each bloom (oh, yes, I must have lots of blooms) God is throwing His arms around me, and He is saying, “Jaye, I love you.”

Gardening in my yard has taught me much.  I’ve learned that there are things I can plant that will live, and there are things that will die.  Tea roses, for instance, will be consumed overnight by silent bugs.  Our roses are Knockout roses. Our trees are disease resistant, just in case I’m not the great gardener that I would like to be.  In our front yard we have two Prairie Fire Crabapples (very disease resistant and a blood red).  Our three Bradford Pears have healthy leathery leaves that turn a deep burgundy in fall.  We also have a host of lilies, junipers, and other tough plants that just take my breath away.  In our back yard it is much the same.  We’re working on water features, and we don’t expect to ever be finished, as long as we live.

Gardening is hard for me.  I have balance issues, and it is always painful, but I do joyfully drag myself around.  My husband and children are such a blessing, planting trees and shrubs and giving me all the credit.  Everything they do is so obviously for my pleasure, whether it is planting seeds or trees or rose bushes.  It warms my heart, and when I think about it, tears spring to my eyes.

There is much to learn in a garden.  Miracles happen.  A lowly seed bursts forth, from the earth.  Gentle rain, or sometimes hauling hoses, gives them life, bringing blossoms of every shade and hue.  So, why did God bless me?  Really, I don’t know.  He will bless   whom He wishes.  In the Bible, God gives us clues.  He wants us to seek Him with all our hearts.  He wants a relationship, where our first thought is of Him. And He wants to bless us.  Now, my own personal clue.  God listens with all His heart, to all the longings of our hearts.

My house, for instance, is a mirror image of a house that I longed for, when I was fifteen years old.  My family is another miracle for me.  Love.  Hope.  Forgiveness.  Happiness.  How loving is the God we serve.  We have had tough times, especially when we were in the Navy.  Poverty was always knocking at our door, but in tough times or abundance, God is still with us, whether we acknowledge Him or not.  He is worth the sacrifice, and He does care about our needs.  I must say, that without God, we would not have survived the lean times.  I do love Him.  God is my constant companion; my hero; my sweet provider, and He listens and answers my prayers.

Daily Prayer  by Jaye Lewis

I love to watch the drifting clouds,

In the glorious sky, above me.

I love to hold You, in my heart,

And feel how much You love me.

I love to see the breaking day,

With colors rich and true.

I love to hold You in my heart,

And spend the day with You.

I love to see the little birds

That gobble all the seed.

I love to hold You in my heart,

As You see to every need.

I love to, breathlessly, await,

Your answer to my prayer.

I love to hold you in my heart,

And know that You are 'there.'

I love to feel Your sweet caress,

Upon my aching heart.

I love to hold You in my life,

And know we'll never part.

I love to share, with You, my thoughts,

On every, blessed day.

I love to hold You, in my heart,

As You brush my tears away.

And, last of all, I love to share

The way we laugh, together,

Knowing that the day will dawn,

When we will share forever!

© Jaye Lewis, January 29, 2001

With Love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

The Richest Thanksgiving by Jaye Lewis

It was November, 1976. I had just moved back to Jacksonville Florida, with my three young daughters after many years away. We were struggling, and I wondered what kind of a Thanksgiving I was going to be able to make for my children. 

We were living in a small trailer, and I was looking for a job while trying to convince my girls, and myself, that this was all an adventure.

My youngest child, Helen, was barely three years old, but from the beginning of her first lisped words, Helen seemed to have a sense of decency and wisdom way beyond her years. The children were all excited about Thanksgiving. The anticipated feast was all the girls talked about.

Two days before Thanksgiving, there was a flash fire in a nearby home, and a young family lost everything. The entire community became involved in the rescue of the couple and their young daughter. Shelter was donated by a church, and it seemed that everyone was involved in the collection of food, household items, bedding and clothes. I was thankful that even I was able to spare a few things.

Brigades of busy people willingly donated their time, as well as money. I was certain the tragedy was especially hard for the family this close to Thanksgiving, and I was grateful that someone was available to come to our house and pick up our donated items. Helen was very thoughtful for one so young, and I made myself a little crazy imagining what she must be thinking about the fire.

Finally, on the afternoon before Thanksgiving, two lovely women came to our house to collect our donations. How I wished I had more to give, I said, as I helped carry the donations out. They reassured me that the family would be well provided for. The girls and I stood outside chatting, as the ladies climbed back into their station wagon.

All of a sudden Helen shrieked, “ WAIT!! Don’t anybody move!” She streaked into the trailer door, crying aloud, “WE FORGOT SOMETHINGGGG!!!” I looked apologetically at the ladies, but before I could follow her, Helen was back outside, holding onto her favorite teddy bear, the bear that I had made for her birthday, just two months before. Helen held out the bear, her green eyes searching my face.

“Mommy,” Helen implored, “the little girl doesn’t have any toys. She needs this bear! I have to give it to her.” My heart quaked. I thought about the few toys Helen had and how many hours I had spent sewing that little bear. Now she wanted to give it away.

We stood in stunned silence, the ladies staring at me. I struggled with my feelings. All the love I’d put into that bear. All the things we needed and didn’t have. Surely Helen could find another toy. Then I stooped down to face Helen, who was still holding out the bear, worry lines creasing her little forehead. I searched her little heart shaped face, my fingers brushing aside her red-gold hair. My eyes filled as I realized that my heart would never be as big as the heart pounding in that little chest.

My voice broke, as I said, “Of course, Helen, you’re right. We forgot the toy. How thoughtful of you to remember.” Helen, grinning, handed over the beautiful bear.

When the ladies drove away, I took my little girl and held her close. For she had made our Thanksgiving, the richest Thanksgiving of all.

MAY ALL THE BLESSINGS OF THIS THANKSGIVING BE YOURS, NOW AND ALWAYS.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words on Veterans' Day: A Prayer for Peace by Jaye Lewis

Hello friends,

On this eve of Veterans' Day, 2011, I was just thinking.  The child of another mother's heart is fighting over in a strange land, for people who hate us, and everything they think we stand for.  At the Thanksgiving meal in 2001, a boy or a girl, eight or nine years old, was starry eyed thinking of future Christmas joys, although we were a country in mourning.  They were children, after all, and children are God's messengers of hope for a better tomorrow.

Today, many of those same children are languishing in military hospitals, or lying in well kept cemeteries, and all their mother's hopes are dashed.  Others are still fighting overseas, while mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sweethearts, sons and daughters wait, praying that they will come home from their fifth tour, safe and sound.  And then they pray that they will be home for good.

As a Veteran, my heart swells with pride, but as a mother, I weep.  I shed tears as I did when my children were at death's door.  I pray, as I prayed for them, as I prayed for my husband when he was out to sea.  I weep for the mothers.  I weep for all those who will not see another Thanksgiving.  I weep for those who will be at the Thanksgiving table, only to return to duty and fight another day.  I weep, and I pray that these awful wars will end, and each mother's child will come home safe and sound.

God help us!  What are we doing over there?!  If that thought doesn't make you shudder, because you have not walked the floor in agony, waiting for that next phone call to let you know that your son or daughter is alive and well, then take a look.  We live in a precarious world.  None of us are truly safe, except by the grace of God.

So, now I ask you, no matter your situation, no matter where your children are, stop now, and pray for their safety.  Pray for them, for yourself, and for the mothers who are waiting for this world at war to be at peace.  Pray for peace and safety, this night and tomorrow, and may God bring us all a lasting peace, for only He can.

Between Here and Forever  by Jaye Lewis

Somewhere between here and forever

Is a place called “hello” and “good-bye.”

My hope dwells somewhere between them

As I brush the tears from my eye.

“Hello, what a pleasure to meet you.”

“Good-bye, I will miss you, my friend.”

My heart breaks with every occurrence.

It always feels like the end.

I am certain, however, that life goes on,

From friendship to friendship, it’s true;

But I carry the memories in my heart

Of all of my moments with you.

You were there from the very beginning.

You were there when I needed you most.

You stayed by my side, just so faithful,

Never leaving your sacred post.

We have been through so much together.

You would never have left my side;

Except that God had to call you away,

My heartbreak has nowhere to hide.

I’m certain I’ll love you forever,

And no one can take your place.

I can never forget all the joy we shared,

And that look on your laughing face.

The distance between “hello" and "good-by,”

Was only a heartbeat or two,

And nothing on earth will make me forget

The love in my heart, for you.

I sat coldly when they told me.

I wanted to keep you, and then,

I remembered your peerless devotion,

So I had to release you from pain.

Good-bye my friend and companion.

I will treasure the moments we’ve shared,

And I’ll know that my last decision

Was the proof that I truly cared.

I’ll see you somewhere in forever,

And I’ll bring a present or two,

Just as I did for you here on earth,

To show my love for you.

© Jaye Lewis, 2005

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org