'Tis So Sweet

A missionary penned these words in the 1800s.  The picture above is of my friend 

who is a missionary in the 2000s.  I think she could have written these words too...

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, Just to take Him at His word;
Just to rest upon His promise; Just to know "Thus saith the Lord."

Jesus, Jesus how I trust Him!
How I've proved Him o'er and o'er!
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

O how sweet to trust in Jesus, Just to trust His cleansing blood;
Just in simple faith to plunge me, Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus, Just from sin and self to cease;
 Just from Jesus simply taking Life and rest and joy and peace.

I'm so glad I learned to trust Thee, Precious Jesus, Savior friend;
And I know that Thou art with me, Wilt be with me to the end.

Written by Louisa M. R. Stead (1850-1917)

Psalm 56:11 

In God I have put my trust; I will not be afraid.

Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

Proverbs 3:5-7 (Message)

Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don’t try to figure out everything on your own.  Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he’s the one who will keep you on track.  Don’t assume that you know it all.  Run to God!

John 14:1-3

Jesus said, "Don't let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, and trust also in me.  There is more than enough room in my Father's home...When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am."

Trust.  Do not fear.  Trust.  Be strong.  Trust.  Do not be afraid.  Trust.  God is with you.  Trust.

I love the idea of trust.  

I yearn to trust God fully.  

I want to live a life free from worry and anxiety.  

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.  

He's always been faithful to me. 

He is worthy of my trust.  

God has everything under control. 

Faith = Trust.

"Believing God" Pledge of Faith:

1.  God is who He says He is.

2.  God can do what He says He can do.

3.  I am who God says I am.

4.  I can do all things through Christ.

5.  God's word is alive and active in me. 

Whatever is going on in my life (and yours), God can handle it.  

He is bigger, greater, and stronger than whatever our problems are.  

That includes: 

cancer, 

infertility, 

foreclosures, 

homelessness, 

parenting, 

addictions, 

emotions, 

and dealing with "extra grace required" people! 

God understands our stress.  We need only to rest in His hands.  He provides the peace.    

Yatagiri

Yatagiri:  Little girl born into poverty.  Little girl from southern India.  Little girl with parents who are "workers" and spiritually lost.  Little girl with lots of siblings who have to stay home while she goes to Compassion school and gets colorful letters from America.  Little girl who doesn't know the Lord.  Little girl who touched the heart of Big girl: Jennifer... who wanted to make a difference and put a smile on Little girl's face.  Yatagiri who grew up and is now 13.....

 

 It's a true story.  I am the Big girl.  I am the one who chose one day to support this sweet waif with no smile. 

Those big brown eyes, that gorgeous face, that sweet laugh that might not be heard enough.  I began that day to pray for Yatagiri.  I wrote her letters and sent her photos and gave money for Christmas and Birthday gifts in addition to ever-increasing monthly support.  Each time a letter came from her via the translator I'd devour it.  She was learning about Jesus.  She got a dress for Christmas and a doll for her birthday.  She liked to write stories!  Her family sends their greetings and their love.  She prays.  She sings.  And on the fourth photo update, she smiles! 

Then last week a letter came from Compassion stating that some major decisions were being made for Yatagiri and her school.  Within the next 90 days Compassion is going to decide if it needs to withdraw all support.  According to the letter:  "The child development center Yatagiri attends has not been able to meet all of Compassion's standards for ministering to children in need."  What?  My sweet Little girl may NOT be getting all her needs met?  Is she learning about Jesus or being taught Hindu ways?  Is she getting enough to eat or is there corruption going on?   

What could it be?  I began to panic.  I began to forget to trust God.  I began to lose hope.  Jennifer, "Trust in the Lord, with all your heart.  Lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight."  And, "He who began a good work in Yatagiri will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus."  God knows what He is doing.  Nothing surprises Him.  He cares about Yatagiri way more than I ever could.  Even if Compassion tells me I can no longer support   

 her or send her letters, I can always pray for her.  God hears.  He knows.  He listens.  I can trust Him.  He is good. 

  I received the letter from Compasison about a week ago.  Today I received in the mail a photo update.  She's beautiful.  She's still the same Little girl.  But, Yatagiri's not smiling any more.  I cannot stop praying.  I cannot stop hoping.  I want to meet Yatagiri in Heaven some day.  I want to see her smile and hear her laughter and give her a hug.  She is the Sarala I never had.  I won't give up on her.  Just as God never gives up on me. 

Recording a CD

Off We Go!  Ready for a big day!

Doug, the Fabulous Recording Man!

 Mom and I love music.  We love to make music together.  We have been making music together my whole life!  We've played for weddings, funerals, church services, nursing homes, recitals and lots of "just for fun" times.  Yesterday we had the opportunity to create a keepsake that we will treasure forever!  We made a CD recording of 15 of our favorite pieces.  Mom played piano and I played violin.  Want to hear what our day was like?  Okay!
    At 9:00 on Saturday morning, we went to Doug and Janet's lovely home.  They had recently turned half of their basement into a recording studio and the other half into a quilting room.  We walked in to the recording room and   

Jennifer and Mom

 tuned my violin to the keyboard.  We played through a few songs and got used to the microphone and keyboard.  Then we began the recordings.  Doug would tell us when we could begin.  We would play a piece and then decide if we were satisfied or if we

We had a great experience!

wanted a second chance.  We kept our first recording for two of the fifteen songs.  All the others needed some tweaking.  Sometimes we played the whole piece again.  One time the tweaking was me simply playing two or three measures along with the recording that we had already done.  Then Doug replaced those  

Recording is hard work!

Hooray for a Midi System!

 measures with the new ones that I played better.  Sometimes tweaking a song meant Mom bringing her music in to the computer room where Doug was and finding a particular chord on the computer where she played a wrong note and then having Doug use his Midi System to actually change the note.  It was magic!!!  She could say, "That note right there should be an F sharp, not an F" and Doug would push a few buttons and fix it.  It was amazing!

We could fix notes like magic!

We took a short break around 11:30 and then felt refreshed enough to finish up.  All in all, it took about four hours. The next steps are for Doug to go through the songs and do his magic.  He seems to truly enjoy all the editing and refining and artistry.  He was so great to work with.  He was super patient and positive.  We had a wonderful experience.  I just know that we will treasure this CD for years and years to come.  My nieces and nephews will treasure hearing their Grandma Iverson and Auntie Jen play.  Mom and I will not always get to play together.  Arthritis has already had an impact on Mom's playing.  We decided to do the recording now because we have both been practicing more than usual to prepare for a wedding we provided music for last weekend.  I have been practicing so much that I feel like I am close to where I was in college as far as tone quality, intonation, and lack of scratchiness.  Technically, I would have far to go to reach my college proficiency.  But, truly, that doesn't matter.  What matters is the joy that Mom and I have when we play together.  It is as if we can feel what the other person is going to do for dynamics and ritardandos and phrasing.  We cut - off together at the end of pieces.  We just feel the music together.  And, we enjoy it.  We enjoy playing for people too.  If our music can bring joy or peace to people or help them feel closer to God, then we feel honored to have shared it.  To God be the glory.  By the way, this CD is not going to be perfect.  We made lots of mistakes.  We couldn't fix everything.  We decided that our CD is "authentic" because it shows our human-ness.  Both Mom and I are perfectionists, so it was hard at times to let a piece be "good enough" instead of perfect.  As Grandma used to say about situations like this, "It keeps us humble."  That is so true!  We have loved the experience of making a CD and will forever be grateful to Doug and Janet for helping to make this dream of ours come true.  If YOU get the opportunity to hear our CD, then thanks for listening!     

Happy to Love...

Hangin' out at Cabella's

Recently, my sister in law posted this beautiful statement on Facebook:
 
"When I was first married, I had a job that paid very well. I worked 4.5 days a week, and was also given free housing in a beautiful large home with free heat, electricity, water, phone, and internet. But I hated my job, and was totally miserable. Even on the 2.5 day weekends.
Now, almost ten years later, we have to pay for all our own housing and expenses. I have a much more difficult job that demands way, way more than forty hours a week-- and I don't get any money for it. Often I wake up totally exhausted, wondering how I'm going to get through another day. And I'm so, so happy! Thanks, God!!!"      Julia was talking about her life as a mommy to Anna and a wife to my brother, David.  Beautiful.  That statement made me bubble up inside with happiness for their sweet little family - soon to be one member bigger.  Julia is living the dream that I thought I always wanted.
 
I've always wanted to be a mommy.  I've always been drawn to kids.  I've always had so much love to give.  As I grew older, I'd think, "Okay, God, where's my man?  The clock is ticking!"  And, eventually (when I was 31) God did bring along a man: Todd.  Todd is everything I'd ever dreamed of in a husband.  He was and IS my "Mr. Wonderful."  But, we would never have children together.  This blog is not about bemoaning that fact, but rather about the ways I've been overwhelmed by happiness in spite of the fact that God's plans were different from my own.

God is good.  My former student, Nikki (who is now married!) made me a colorful poster when she was a second grader that said, "Jesus, friend of love."  How true.  God never planned to "waste" my abundance of love for children that he'd poured into me.  He simply planned to funnel that love into other people's children.  He gave me three precious nephews and one incredible niece to love on.  He gave me special families to babysit for.  He gave me classroom after classroom of eight-year-olds to love.  He  gave me lifelong friendships with girlfriends who are now mommys who want their kids to get to know "Miss Jennifer."  I am loved.

A Junior at Becker High School recently committed suicide.  I didn't have him as a second grader.  But, I could have.  I could have poured a year of love into that boy's life.  His family loved him.  His friends loved him.  But, he didn't ask for help.  We don't know why he took his life.  We just feel extreme sorrow.  Sometimes I think about the students I currently have and what they have in store for their futures.  I want to wrap my arms around them and convince them of their worth...convince them of the power of one life...convince them to do their best...convince them to show kindness to everyone they meet...convince them to live their lives to the fullest - full of love!  I wish I could be there for these kids forever.  But, I can't.  I can only love the kids that God puts in front of me for a season.

Loving can be hard.  My heart breaks for those kids who don't go home to love.  I have some stories that bring tears to my eyes years later.  My blood boils over some situations that "my kids" are put into by their parents.  I want to protect them.  But, all I can do is love them while I have them.  God puts these kids in front of me for a season.  There are years my heart gets quite the workout!

How do I show love to my students?  By being kind and gentle.  By smiling.  By liking them.  By saying encouraging words.  By being as fair as possible.  By valuing their concerns.  By giving hugs.  By talking to them in nice, respectful ways.  By helping them.  By being patient.  By showing interest in what interests them.  By listening to their stories.  By being their cheerleader.  By starting fresh each day.  By telling them how happy I am to get to spend my day with them!  Love.  

I will never forget my first year of teaching when Allison came in from freeplay with tears in her eyes and told me about something that someone had done on the playground that hurt her feelings.  My eyes filled with tears as she told me her sad story.  Of course, we worked through the problem, but what I remember most is the realization that I loved that little girl.  My heart hurt for her.

I remember a different year when a sad little Allie in my class was going through a tough time at home and I heard her laughter one day in my classroom.  I remember that her laughter made me feel so happy inside.  The happiness in my heart melted into a big smile across my face as I realized that the environment I had created in my classroom was a safe, happy place for this sweet girl that I loved.  I was her stability.

The year I had Maggie I realized that God had made me be a teacher partly so I could help shy little girls who were just like me when I was a second grader.  I helped build Maggie's confidence that year.  I went out of my way to find ways to help her feel special.  She told her mom one day, "Mrs. Sapp truly loves us, Mom.  I can tell."  I will never forget that feeling of hope that maybe my kids really could feel that they are loved.

Olivia struggled with two digit subtraction.  When I explained it and practiced it with my kids, we had a little story we would act out (of the ones place borrowing from the tens place).  Every time Olivia practiced her subtraction, she would review the story.  Her mom told me that I had truly helped Olivia in math.  I was building up her confidence in an area where she often struggled.  What an amazing feeling for me, who had struggled in math as a girl.  When a child feels loved and safe, they are more likely to be open to learning.

All these thoughts are sincere.  I love to love my students.  That is why I continue to teach.  There are things I don't do well as a teacher.  Inwardly I have this fear that someday "THEY" will find out that I don't really know what I am doing!  The longer I teach, the more I realize there are LOTS of things I am not an expert at in the world of teaching.  Somehow the kids learn.  A colleague of mine likes to say, "They learn....in spite of us!"

Despite how much I love to love my students, I love my husband more.  At the end of the day, I feel good about my ministry of teaching.  But, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude that God also gave me a husband to share my life with so that my whole life isn't teaching.  My husband fills me up.  He is the perfect companion.  He is MY cheerleader, encourager, confidante, and friend.  He helps keep me balanced.  He points me to God.  He is my stability.  I couldn't be happier.  Just as my sweet sister-in-law has found happiness in the life God has blessed her with, so I have found happiness in mine.  It looks different, but both are from God.  Both are good.  Because God is good.  

The 19 Days of Scarves

 The 19 Days of Scarves

February 2013 has 19 school days.  I have 19 scarves.  Why not wear one each day?  Sounds like fun to me!  So, that is what I have been doing.  

     My students have enjoyed it too.  As you can see from the photos, many of my girls have 

My orange scarf was silk-painted by my German host mom!

 worn scarves to school.  
     I let me students come up with interview questions to ask me about my scarves on the Friday primary school news program.  They also decorated the numbers that I held up each day with my daily scarf.  They were always

This Eddie Bauer scarf was from a friend who knew I love Eddie Bauer.

I love how this scarf matches my sweater so well!

 interested in the stories behind the scarves.  It has really made February much more fun.  I have not wanted to miss a single day of February.
     Honestly, February is usually my least favorite month of the school year.  It is cold and dark and feels so long.  This year, February has flown by!  
     So, where did all my scarves come from?  Most were gifts from friends.  Some I bought myself.  Grandma's butterfly scarf was a gift from me to her and then I got it back when she died.  Mom's pink scarf that she loaned me was one I bought for her in the town of Two Harbors one summer.      

My giraffe scarf by my giraffe collection at school.

This cheerful scarf is from a good friend.

I wore this scarf for conferences.

This butterfly scarf belonged to my Grandma Alber.

The orange silk-painted scarf and the black one I wore for conferences were both from Germany (from 1996).  I felt so "European" in those scarves back then.  I'm glad America jumped on the fashion bandwagon for wearing scarves!  I love that some of my scarves are from different countries:  Germany, Thailand, London, and Spain.  A scarf is a perfect gift or souvenir!  

Thanks to my mom for lending me her pretty scarf!

    I've gotten scarves from  LuAnn, Julie, Angie, Stephanie, my sister Kimberly, and my student Lacey.
   I bought myself the cute giraffe scarf and the flowery one from the General Store.  My friend Janet made one of the scarves from some pretty material she bought.  Ah, to be that artistic!
    Enjoy the photos on this blog.  I'll post the last four days next week.  You have a few days left to join me - wear a scarf!    

This warm scarf was perfect on a COLD day!

This music note scarf is from one of my former students!

The General Store in Minnetonka is where I got this scarf!

My friend Angie got me this scarf in London.

Angie also got me this scarf.... in Spain!

My sister Kimberly got me this scarf in Thailand!

The kids had a great time making the numbers for my scarves!

This cheerful purple scarf is from my friend Stephanie

This happy yellow scarf reminds me that Spring is nearly here!

I got this warm, cuddly scarf while shopping with a friend.

This scarf is also from Germany.

My last scarf is a beautiful one made by my friend Janet.

Guest Blogger: Mary F. Bale (1876-1963)

I have no pictures of Great Grandma, but maybe she looked liked me?

An old Madam Alexander doll, maybe Great Grandma looked like her on her wedding day?

My Grandma (Mary F. Bale's daugher), I know Grandma looked like her!

Today our guest blogger is my great grandma Mary Francella (Bearfield) Bale who loved to write poetry.  Mary grew up near Lisbon, North Dakota with five siblings.  In 1899 she married Samuel and they had eleven children.  My grandma, Winnifred was one of them.  This blog contains poems written by Mary F. Bale.  Enjoy!
Gratification:
I'm no poet, and I know it,
One glance of these lines would show it.
If my tongue could but express
Half I see of loveliness,
Half I hear of melody,
Half the frangrance of the spring
Which gay vagrant breezes bring,
I would be the greatest poet
That the world has ever known.
He who fashioned yonger tree
In its gracious symmetry
Gave me eyes its grace to see,
Gave me ears that I might hear
Bourne upon the evening air
Yonder bird song sweet and clear;
Gave me heart and mind and soul
To appreciate the whole
Of the glories He has given
As a foretaste of His Heaven;
But in love denied to me
The sweet gift of poetry.

This Is The Girl I Love:
Eyes like the misty tenderness
Of April's softest skies,
Mouth the sweetest of Cupid's bows
Near whose corner a dimple hides;
Walk as free and unstudied
As the lightest breeze that blows;
Cheeks as soft and downy
As the heart of a crimson rose:
Voice as sweet as the tender note
In the call of the wooing dove;
Heart as pure as unsullied snow-
This is the girl I love.

Only God Can Make a Tree:
I'm sure He made that old elm tree-
You know the one I mean-
Its trunk and brances ringed by leaves
Of shimmering, rustling green.
It beckoned to the tired feet
That passed along the road
To pause a moment by the way
And shift their weary load.
It spread its arms to welcome them,
It's leave a whisper made
To tell them of the cool sweet rest
Within its pleasant shade.
How many weary workers
That tree has comforted,
And given courage for the toil
That earned their daily bread!
I hope if ever I reach Heaven
My homesick eyes shall see
The faces I have loved so well,
Green hills, sweet flowers, bright sunsets-Well
And yes, an old elm tree.

Lullaby:
Be not afraid, my dear one,
Soft on your pillow lie.
Angels watch o'er you through the night,
And so do I.
Fear not the dark, dear little child,
Her mantle soft and deep
She spreads about you kindly
To guard you while you sleep.
Sleep softly, dear one, softly,
Safe as on Mother's breast,
God and the friendly dark will bring
Sweet dreams to soothe your rest.

Prairie Winds:
Untamed are the winds of our prairies,
Wild and tempestuous and free,
Blowing o'er limitless acres
Unbroken by valley or tree.
Blithe are our rollicking prairie winds,
Whisking the dust in gay whirls,
Snatching the sheets from the long swaying lines
Ruffling the baby's curls.
Soft are our prairie breezes
Fragrant with newly mown hay
Bringing the blessing of evening's cool peace
After the heat of the day.
Dear land, may thy sons and thy daughters
Be as free from the follies that scar,
As frank and as independent
As the winds of the prairies are. 

Valentine:
I can't spell a lot of words,
But I know a few.
Dearest - love- and valentine
Are all spelled y-o-u.

Lights:
The lights that shine on Broadway
Excel in brilliancy
The sailor loves the dancing gleam
Of the sunset on the sea.
Soft moonlight for Lover's Lane,
Sunshine for butterflies
But for me the tender lovelight,
In someone's hazel eyes.

A Miracle Is a Miracle:
With God all things are possible.
Why should you doubt Christ came to earth,
As His Father willed, by a virgin birth?
Why should you think, why should you say,
That God must work in the usual way?
At Cana turning water to wine,
From a tiny seed to a blossoming vine,
God's son to man by a birth divine-
Calling one great and another small
Doesn't alter the facts at all.
A miracle is a miracle.

Memory:
The sun is gold and the sands are pearl,
The sky is blue above,
But the glory of all the world cannot dim
The memory of your love.
Clouds hide the sun and the sands are grey
Darkness blots out the sea.
But neither clouds nor nights can erase
Your face from my memory.

A Greeting:
Here's "How" to a pleasant acquaintance
And may we be meeting again
When the wild rose is sweet in the thickets
And the cactus blooms over the plain.
And if at that season I'm missing
From this old world's cares and commands,
Here's "How," for a pleasanter meeting
Over there- with our harps in our hands.

And, here they are!  The photos you have been waiting for!  Great Grandma was a beautiful lady!

Careers, Vocations, and "Puttin' in Yer Time"

Careers, Vocations, and "Puttin' in Yer Time"

       My great grandma (Mary Bearfield) was a one-room schoolhouse teacher in the 1890s.  My grandma (Winnifred Iverson) was an elementary teacher from the 1930s to the 1960s.  My grandpa (Norman Iverson) taught math, music and business and was superintendent of schools in the 1930s and 40s.  My mom (Linda Iverson) was a first grade teacher for three years in the 1970s and my dad (Robert Iverson) was a music teacher for thirty years, also starting in the 70s.  Growing up, there didn't seem to be many other career options besides teaching!  I was one of those children who played school with my dolls all lined up in front of me as I "taught."  Sure, I had other things I wanted to be when I grew up (a famous singer or violinist, a writer or  illustrator, or maybe even the voice for a Disney animated movie?).  My brother wanted to be a professional baseball player, so why couldn't I dream big?

       I didn't decide I wanted to become a teacher until ninth grade career day.  I followed around a kindergarten teacher and I just KNEW that was what I wanted to do.  I loved the energy and excitement of five year olds!  Years later, I fell in love with 7 year olds and got hooked on second grade.  I felt at home in the classroom.  As I grew older and continued to feel the tug toward teaching, I came to better understand what it meant to have a vocation.... something you had been called to do.  My college friend, Pauline, is now a pastor in North Dakota, and back in college, she would often talk about the need to believe that your job is your vocation, your ministry, your service to the Lord.  Now that I have been teaching for thirteen years, I better understand this concept.  I am a teacher.  But, more than that, I love my students.  I am serving the Lord by serving my students.  This is my ministry.  Teaching takes all of me.  Last August, I wrote a blog called "If..." about all the things I would enjoy doing if my whole life were not consumed by being a teacher:  

(http://www.journalingjennifer.blogspot.com/2012/08/if.html).

       Recently, my husband asked me if I could do my education and college all over again, would I still become a teacher?  Without a moment of hesitation, I answered YES!  What followed was a very interesting conversation about what we could see ourselves doing if we couldn't have our current careers.  I would probably still work with young kids (holding babies in the infant room at Cobber Kids Corner Daycare in Moorhead, Minnesota sounds great!.... or something with children's ministry at a church).  I could see doing more with my writing (a cubicle job of responding to letters at Focus on the Family in Colorado Springs, Colorado was intriguing to me after visiting there years ago).  I have my music background and could teach piano or violin lessons privately.  I think I would even enjoy doing beginning orchestra in a school or community setting.  I think I could make any of those jobs be a vocation.  But, then there are "Puttin' in Yer Time" jobs like being a cashier/duster at Hallmark or working with food all day or doing a task that takes little brainpower.  Uff-dah!  That's not for me!  I wonder if that kind of job could ever feel like a vocation.  I suppose it could....  

     There are days when teaching is really, really, REALLY hard.  There are politics and unhappy parents and negative co-workers and uncooperative kids and times my heart is simply not in it.  There are days when I can hardly wait for that minute hand to reach 3:10 so I can leave those walls and ceilings for a while.  But, there are more days that are rewarding and productive and good.  I get a high out of being organized.  Teaching requires organization.  I love feeling a connection with my students.  That happens every day.  I'm excited about the content I teach.  I learn new things every year.  God is at work in my classroom.  I invite Him in.  He stays and makes Himself at home.  God likes my vocation.  He has called me here.

      Sometimes when I think about my great-grandma, Mary Bearfield, teaching in a one-room school house in the 1890s, I think about how she would be proud of me.  She doesn't even know me, but I think she'd be proud of me.  I bet she had days where she was watchin' the minute hand too, but most of all, I hope she found her job to be rewarding and good.  I hope it was a vocation to her too.