Explorer 100

Explorer 100

My girls love the beach. Not unlike their mother who aspires to live in a house overlooking the ocean. They wake up squealing, piercing cries of uninhibited childhood joy. The sun, the sand, the shells, but most of all the waves.

The waves are taller and stronger than the girls. The problem- drowning, the solution…. Explorer 100. We needed a plan, we bought this little black and yellow boat.

For $13.00 we purchased a memory.

For three days they rode. The look on their faces was priceless. Half absolute thrill- the other half, pure unprecedented terror. Never knowing if the boat would hold, not certain is the life jackets would work. Always watching for the “Big One” fearful of flipping, but anticipating and half desiring a wild ride.

The calls from the boat were genuine. Glee sprinkled with a little uncertainty. Little did they know … no matter how high the wave, no matter how scary the situation, no matter the wind or wave---

I was holding the rope!

There was no way the situation was out of my hand. I had them in my grip. They might not feel like it. They might not even see the rope or know I was holding it. But there was no way I was letting go.

I kept it from flipping- from going too far or getting too dangerous.

You know, I was sitting there on the beach and I started to think. I wonder if that is what we look like to God.

Willingly getting into the boat of this Christian life, ready to hang on for a life of adventure, a wild wonderful ride. Everything is great, then the wind starts to blow.

Relational distress, diagnosis, infidelity.....

The storm is raging, the waves are crashing. The world is spinning. We are hanging on for dear life. Fear is the master of our emotions.

Life out of control.

The wind and waves go wild. All we can do is hang on. Stay in the boat.

Trust that the one who is holding the rope is paying attention here. 

Getting scared when things get out of hand, that is normal. I am human and the fact of the matter is this…

I am not holding the rope. I don’t even want to.

Holding the rope inside the boat is futile. It just doesn’t work. In order for the anchor to hold – there must be something stronger, bigger, and heavier or Someone to whom to attach

I am glad I get to be a passenger. An active participator but not the Ultimate Controller. I am so thankful for the promise that when the wind kicks up and the waves start to crash.... there is ONE who love me very much... and HE is holding the rope.

Psalm 46.
46:1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

Roots

It is Summertime in Tennessee; Father’s Day to be exact. That means one thing if you are a Woodard.

 Everybody goes to camp!

Every two years The Woodard Family comes together for three days of food, fun, and fellowship. There are around 60 of us who actually brave this endeavor. 

We are the “Children, grandchildren, and the greats”

Remnants of another time....

Two parents, 10 kids, and the succession which produced me.

                         The roots of our family.

It’s funny thing about roots, they grow deep. Growing up “a Woodard, part of Verdie’s clan (my grandmother) is just part of who I am. I found comfort in knowing I had an ancestry. Documented stories, pictures, places and events that filled in the holes from which I came.

 I love the stories,enjoy the fun, but it has never just been about entertainment.
There was always something different about this group, even as a child I saw it. Our common denominator wasn’t just our genealogy, but our God.

My memories of reunions were of us taking time on Sunday mornings—and coming together to worship our God. Songs of the faith, lessons from days of old. Prayers of thanksgiving from the past. Plans for the future. Our faith brought us back together.

The faith of our family is our legacy.

My memories of my Grandmother (one of the 10) are simple, a green chair and a Bible. The staples to her life. Walking into her house, you always knew where to find her. In her green chair, reading her Bible. Her faith was rooted in her core, central in her life. She taught youth Sunday School into her 80’s and was amazing!

Passing on her faith to the next generation.

She got it! She understood its importance. She had found the value of passing on a legacy. But from where?

Faith can be taught, but more often it is caught.

To love your God so completely… that your children find Him.

I was Grandmother’s favorite (we all were). She always demanded when I left on my long drives to call her when I got home. One day I finally asked her why. She said “I wait, and I pray for you and your safety until you get home.” That was a 6 hour drive. She would hang up the phone with me and say “Amen.” I had my very own prayer warrior! I couldn’t help but live so closely to this faith that it began to rub off.

I saw it in her, I see it in my parents, and I had to find it.

I now understand the words of an older song, “through YOUR faith, I have come to believe in a prayer."



What a legacy to leave. What an Inheritance. What a gift.

 To have a faith lived out in front of you so genuinely..... you know it is real.


What a responsibility…

The rest of that song says “We must not let the years erase, this inheritance of amazing grace, But through every tomorrow, Our children must follow, In this passage of faith.”

Our charge is to continue.

I have to now hand down this faith to my children. I get to touch tomorrow. We all will. One way or another, we will pass on this legacy of faith.

And I can’t wait….cause one day, in Heaven, I will see my grandmother (Verdie) again… she is still awaiting my safe arrival HOME. We will watch our family. My children, and grandchildren… serving Her God, The circle will be unbroken. The family legacy will remain. I will get to hear her say to me again, “You know, the funny thing about roots is that they do grow deep. This, my child, pleases me.”

Pier 78

It was time to take a little vacation. Just me… no kids, no Gary, nobody needing something from me. To get away. The world was closing in.

My Vacation spot---- If I get to pick- it is always the same place. Pier 78.    Front Beach Road,    in a little dive that I can stay in for 25.00 a night. I’ve been here 27 times since fifth grade. It is not what you would call luxury by any means but for me, I love it.

I come here for one reason… It restores my soul. Something inside causes me to remember decisions made here. Life changing decisions. My course was set here. Milestones in my journey were laid.

The decisions which are now my life were made on this beach. I walk around and remember. Funny stories, heart wrenching stories. Weeks of youth camp. Hours of sermons. Years of Bible study. Miles of prayers and tears. Everything from leading a caravan …. to leading others to Christ.

So naturally …. This is my place of retreat.

I came here tired, spent, worn out, DONE. Determined to find answers, to solve the world’s problems. Armed with enough Bible study literature and information, I was ready to come here and “ get to work” Just me and God--- not leaving until I found the answers I needed.

The funny thing about God is that He had a plan too- it just wasn’t my plan. I justified my trip in my mind as a spiritual retreat. I had a problem and I wanted answers. I sat down and told Him what I needed and how we should go about it.

I kept talking and He just sat there. I jumped up and down demanding answers and He said, “Niki, Just Stop! Stop striving, Stop planning, Stop searching. STOP! There will be time for all of that but, it is not now. Sit down, shut up! and listen.”

Yeah,  God tells me to shut up! I guess after all these years of working with me... He knows the truth. I would rather talk than listen.

I came here to learn about wisdom in parenting or so I thought. He led me to Mark 12:3 to show me the problem. It wasn’t that I needed wisdom, I needed obedience.

The Great Commandment.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. Love your neighbor as yourself.

Confused I sat wondering how this was going to effect the change I was demanding.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart --- uhmm, I think I get that one. I decided long ago that my life is one of service in reverence for my King. I try to do that.

Love your neighbor- Do that too. Or try to… all the time in my classroom, in my home, at church

Then it hit me . AS YOURSELF.

As yourself? What does that look like? How do you love yourself and not be selfish?  I thought you were supposed to give to others. My whole motherhood has been given for these precious girls. They are the air I breathe. I thought I was loving them by sacrificing it all. The ministry aspect of our lives , too, is an all encompassing, glorious task handed down by the Creator. Laid out and designed for us.

How does loving myself fit into this picture?

You know God seldom yells, and I had to get quiet to hear him. 

To remove myself from the roar of the ordinary to encounter the Holy.

 His answer was so simple… If you don’t love yourself enough to take care of yourself , how can you love God or anyone else for that matter? How can I love God or others from an empty heart? How can I serve without strength? His words were painful.. .but true “Niki, you are empty. You are trying to fix the problem. Fix you! Take care of yourself, so you can then tackle the mountain”

The great commandment has an element in it about me! Loving myself. And I have missed it all these years. He began showing me , for me it is about TIME. Minutes of worship, which is the norm, contrasted and compared to days of just being aware of His presence. Real Sabbath time.

Not seeking to find Him. Just sitting with Him and watching the waves He created. To just know He is there. To bask in His Presence. Operating out of the overflow, what a concept! Not running around like a chicken with its head cut off, exhausted, stressed, yelling and surviving on the fumes .

Really? The Bible commands that I take me time! Sweet!

It was a freeing revelation. To know that God wants me to put on the oxygen mask first. (you know on airplanes how you are instructed to help yourself first- then others). It is not selfish to say no. It is not selfish to say yes. It is not wrong to do what it takes to rejuvenate yourself in order to say YES to Him.

You know, He was right. ( usually is). Any problem or situation I face – the answer is HIM. Sit with HIM. In His presence there is peace. In His presence there is healing. In His presence… is … well… HIM.

I cannot give to HIM or others what I do not have. If I want to follow the Great Commandment- I have to follow it all. I can’t pick the parts to follow or ignore.

Jesus did it and He is God! He went away to a quiet place. If He sees the need for focus times or uninterrupted worship and rest so should I.

Why are all of my lessons so hard to get? I always learn the hard way. Years of doing and doing and I should have just been “ being” . Not apathetic- just finicky in the things that occupy my heart and time. I am beginning to get it. The realities are sinking in.

Let me encourage you to do what I have done. Take some time… a while. Not just your regular Bible Study- but more and just sit with Him. It can be at home. It can be wherever your “ spot “ is. Hear how much He loves you . Close out the chaos and the drowning noise of life for a while. You won’t regret it

As for me… If you can’t find me at home, you know where I will be--- I ‘ll be at Pier 78 if you need me.

Niki

From a Mother's Heart

From a Mother’s Heart,

Tonight we close a chapter and open a new one. You are no longer a baby, but a child preparing to step up and take life by the hand. As this thought began to drown me, I had an epiphany. The parallels between reality and ceremony were daunting to me.

As I watched you walk across that stage and get your Pre-School diploma, my heart swelled with pride at the joy all over your face I had an overwhelming desire to stop the program. To stand up and to scream: STOP! REMEMBER THIS, IT IS IMPORTANT!

So while I didn’t stop the event… I do have some thoughts I would like to share with you-


Tonight I watched as the light in your soul began to shine. With uninhibited childhood joy you sang and danced for your Savior. As you grow, please don’t lose that freedom. Be more concerned with Jesus’ applause- not men’s. Live to please Him alone. You may achieve great fame or honor, but true success is where you stand when your Audience of One is Jesus.

I watched you sing your little Bible songs. With joy I heard you say, “ I get down, He lifts me up.” As your mother I only hope for happy days. Days full of sunshine and roses. As a realist, and one who has had some very hard days… I know the truth is undeniable. I am so thankful that at 5 you have learned lessons it takes some people a lifetime to grasp. When you get down, turn to Him. The One who knows the hairs on your head, also knows your heart. Trust Him to lift you up.

I saw you shine as you recited your Bible verses. The pride over accomplishments was so evident. You worked hard and you met your goals. You don’t know it yet- but it was then you touched tomorrow. Those verses were never meant to just be words my child. They are the firm foundation you will build your future upon. The words of hope and comfort on which you will cling when life stops being easy. Clutch your Bible. I saw them hand it to you and I wanted to tell you how important it truly is. God’s word is all you need. Your name is already on it. Grab it and hold on. It is already yours.

Tonight I saw you have to fight to even get in the door. To persevere in what is right when the rest of the world is doing wrong. You had to go against the flow at 5. What an awesome lesson. What do you do when you know what is right, but you can’t see or hear what you expect? … Do you just stop, or do you keep on? My child….Press on.

I saw you make pledges and promises about allegiances and beliefs on which you will base your life. I pray you may never have to defend that promise, but if you do- that you will do so boldly and confidently… knowing those promises are worth dying for.

Even in the middle of the ceremony when Mrs. Rhonda said, “Catch a bubble!”. What a timely lesson. To know when to speak and when to listen. To know that God seldom yells and you will have to learn to sit and listen in order to hear Him.

And then Remember…. As we watched the slide show, I had the

thought. What an incredible tool to recount the past. You will need to do that again and again as you grow. Life gets hard and sometimes your memory will fog with the events of today and you will forget the victories of the past. Remember what God has done.

So, there it is… Reality colliding with ceremony. In the middle of it all stands a Plan. The plan is one to “prosper you, not to harm you, to give you hope and a future.” Please know I will be there as you grow. Reminding you gently of what you have been so wonderfully taught. Forming the future with you. I will be the one who will hold your hand in preparation of one day letting it go.

Just know that when you begin your own race, I will be there. Thankful for all you have learned and have been shown. And while I can’t run your race for you…. I will be there. You can find me… I will be the one cheering the loudest.

I Love you,

Mom

Where I am From

Where I’m From

(Adapted from George Ella Lyon)

Nicole Millraney

I am from 505 Castlegate Drive, a quiet little dead end where I spent my childhood.
From Opryland and UNA softball, where I hit a home run and my mom threw up.
I am from basketball games where I made the winning shot,
Victory never tasted so sweet.

I am from Ezell- Harding Christian School and Tusculum Hills Baptist Church, where the foundations of my life were laid.
I am from “Silly Girls” and rolling houses, loving my sister Cindy, and eating Nestle Tollhouse pies.
From Shotgun shells, fake fingernails and four wheelers in the rain.
Wet, nasty, covered in mud,
Having the time of my life.
Daddy always said “true beauty is versatile.”

I am from grandmother’s house, chocolate chip cookies,
And “Every woman looks beautiful in red”.
From hitting the only light pole on the property, and refusing to cry when it hurt.

I am from taking Geometry seven times, but never letting it take me.
From cramming four years of college into seven,
Crying but never quitting.

From “Yes, Lord I will follow” and “Yes mom, I ‘m going to marry him”

I am from 223 Fuller Hall, the first place we called home.
No air, no carpet, and no money
Just with love, the world to face.
In that setting, I learned about God’s Amazing Grace

I am from mom and dad, my dear parents,
And Gary, the only love I’ll ever know.
From Lindsey Grace and Anna Kate, who set my heart aglow

These are my memories
Precious no doubt,
The ones I wouldn’t want to live
My life without.

Report Card Time

   It is the end of another school year.   Assessment time.  The power to evaluate, and critique a child's progress is in my hands.

 As I sit here and look out at the sea of faces in my classroom, a disturbing thought occurs to me. What if at the end of the year these children evaluated me?

      I have a motto (one of many) on my desk by Wes Haystead, It says that "Childhood is not a disease to be cured or endured. It is a God - ordained part of life with value and significance that continually allows the participants to experience their world from a fresh, unspoiled, point of view."



       Is that just something I decorate with, or is that the theme that drove how I ran my classroom?  Could my students say that I valued them for who God made them to be?  Did I spend more of my time enduring them,or enjoying them for the individuals that they are?

 I know it is a strange idea to play with,  to give credence to what a child would have to say.  I guess,I have come to the point that I cannot value who they are, if I don't value what they think.


What if I put in their hands the tools by which to determine  my failure or success ?


What would MY report card say?



  After the grades are entered, what would my evaluators  put on my comment line? That line that all kids dread. The place where teachers can explain a grade, justify an action, or deliver a verdict about a child. That little space that with a click of the button, I get to have the last word.

  What would they say about me?  My performance?  The part of me that can’t be balanced and weighed.  A judgement of skill. The part that is not  a mathematical formula, but the final statement of belief on a subject. 

 Pass or fail?


Assessment is hard. Self -Assessment is scary. To honestly stare into the mirror and see who you are. To face myself, and my judges who are with me 8 hours a day. In front of them I am authentic, in front of them,

.....I really have no excuse.

 For 180 days they watch, they experience, they learn who I am. Just thinking about this concept starts my mind reeling.

I only get so many minutes a day, how many did I waste?


Who am I when the door is closed? When it is just me and those kids? Did I hold myself to the same standards that I expected from them?


Did I respect all people? Did I do good deeds?  Did they hear me say good things? Was I prepared? Did I do my best everyday? Was I honest all the time? Was I kind? Was I fair? Did I teach anything that needs to be untaught?  Did I show up on time, every day, ready to teach?  Was I gracious when needed?  Disciplinarian when warranted? Knowledgeable? Willing to help? Was I Selfless or selfish?

 Did I do enough? Could there have been something I missed? Was I genuine? Did I give my all?


Ultimately, I know that they are children.  They live in a world of popsicles and candy and Sponge Bob.  Their idea is Disneyland, and mine is more like jail.

But.....honestly, who knows me better than them?
 
 I give my kids an assignment.  Each year I ask my kids to write a letter to a student in my class next year. They are to explain how to survive sixth grade, and of course, how to survive ME.


The letters are funny. Recounting things and events that transpired through the year. I love hearing children explain to other children.... Me.  I usually find things like: She likes Dr. Pepper. Bring her chocolate. Don't mess with her daughters, This and that, make her crazy!... but, then there are some other things. It is usually sprinkled with ideas on respect, fairness, kindness, organized chaos, and volume.

It is entertaining to read, very humbling to think about.  My best and my worst,  impossible to hide.

Now,  I know to some people it is just a job,  but to some of us it is just .... not.   They are more than a paycheck.  They are children.  They are a responsibility.  A trust earned.

I have to face the fact that even my best may not meet all their needs. Somewhere there has to be a line. 

But sitting in my room today, it occured to me.....


What if the report card this time were mine?

A Man of God

For all of us who love the minister and understand the sacrifices made.....

A Man Of God

People call him a Man of God,
One after HIS own heart…

But do these people really see
 the man who is torn apart?

Struggling and warring each new day,
To be better than the rest.

Knowing every eye is watching when he’s put to the test.

His time is gone even before it ever really comes,
Trying to squeeze several lives into a single one.

Others have done it, so why can’t he
Complete the task at hand?

Trying to learn, study and grow
 to fulfill part of God’s plan.

He has few friends, yet they are dear
Because others just can’t see....

That all too often the minister's life
Is attacked by the enemy.

Satan will do anything to discourage or distract.
Frustration will set in .....When the man is attacked.


Exhausted from the fight,
at the end of a busy day,

This man is kneeling by his bed.... and he he begins to pray.

He prays that God will guide him along life’s narrow path.
He knows God will hear him, and grant his request at last.

When all is finally over, and Eternity is at hand…
The Heavenly angels will ask of God,
“Who truly was this man?”

And with a smile the Lord will say…“My child, gold streets you’ll trod,


Cause through temptation, joy, and pain,

 you were a Man of God.”


NM 1996