Remember When…

In Monday’s Bible study, Pastor Brynen challenged us to spend time remembering our spiritual past that brought us to our present. So…I have. I started pondering while I was there….and the thoughts & memories have continued.

I don’t remember a time that my family didn’t go to church. However, my personal journey began in my 3rd grade year. I can picture the conversation I had with my dad when he came back to share “the ABCs to becoming a Christian” with me. [They are the same ABCs I still share when teaching the Bible lesson during VBS.] Now, when I was a child, I was quiet & shy. For those who know me now, that may be hard to imagine, but it was true. [It still can be depending on the setting.] Since I was a “Bashful Girl” (seriously, that was even my CB handle – because our family had one.), my mom told me that she would walk up the aisle with me if I wanted her to. I remember the invitation hymn began, and I grabbed Mom’s hand. We walked up to the pastor. He told us that it was the quickest he ever had someone walk the aisle.

My next memory was being baptized. Our family attended Calvary Baptist Church in Shelbyville, IN. I remember when I came out from getting dry clothes on a little boy named Daniel kept hugging me. He was mentally challenged, but he was my biggest fan. He was worried that the preacher had hurt me when he baptized me.

My next memory takes us to Madison, IN. Our family moved here before 4th grade started. I remember visiting a couple churches. One we visited, no one but the person at the door talked with us. At another, we arrived when the time on the sign said it started, and there wasn’t a single car in the lot. We later learned that they had changed their service times, but they hadn’t changed their sign yet. That “sign” brought us to Calvary Baptist. We visited. We returned and attended Sunday School. I remember my family joined on Easter Sunday. That was the spring of 1980. That was the first church where I was able to join with the rest of my family since I had become a Christian the year prior and been baptized.

My memory of being in the children’s ministry was the children’s choir. The wife of the music minister led it, and she had one of those voices that could easily sing opera. I remember singing a duet or trio in one of the musicals we did. My favorite song was, “It isn’t hot…in the furnace, man. It isn’t hot…..in the furnace, man. It isn’t hot in the furnace, man, this furnace is…Cool! Cool! Cool!” Ahhh, memories. My favorite musical, the one that had me singing my first ever solo, was Down by the Creek Bank. Gosh! I loved that thing. Even now, as I work with our children’s ministry, I think how much I would LOVE to have our kids do that program (I think it’s out of print). Only this time, instead of singing “I Am Adopted” (15:45 in the video) I would do the parts that Ginny did (18:15) as the leader. [The video is NOT our church…that was way before YouTube. LOL]

Then, I finally made it to the youth group. Calvary called its first part-time youth pastor, Tommy Campbell. He lived in Louisville at the seminary. He got married in January to Becky, his college sweetheart.

It was while I was in the youth group that I began to realize that when I accepted Christ it wasn’t “just” as my Savior, but He was also to be my Lord. Tommy & Becky (and the rest of the youth leaders) taught us about having a quiet time. I grew up going to church, but I don’t remember family devotions or reading the Bible at home. It wasn’t until I was a youth that I realized that for my commitment to be a true relationship…it needed to go both ways.

Was I perfect in reading the Bible? Obviously not, but it was during those years that I started to grow in my faith. I remember “youth-led Sundays” where we would do a skit. I remember sharing my testimony. It seemed that was my designated task whenever we had one. Hmm, I guess this post is similar…only I am able to edit & revise before sharing it.

It was during those three years that Tommy & Becky served at our church that I learned that I could actually “act” a little. We did a play called “The Stone Congregation”. The leads were acted by my friend Kirk & myself. However, he wasn’t able to go to youth camp that summer. Tommy was his “understudy” and took his place as we performed the play at the camp. My only memory of that experience was how “weird” it was for him to be playing Kirk’s part. Why? The two leads were on a date and running away from someone. Anyway, I still remember the take-away from the play, “Remember, if you don’t start doing the Lord’s work today, you will find yourself in a church of nothing but stone.” [They ran into a “museum” which was an old church….that had turned to stone….in a world where faith wasn’t a part of life anymore.]

During Tommy’s last summer at our church, he took us on a mission trip to Gary, IN. During the mornings, we taught VBS. During the afternoons, we worked on the church building doing various tasks. It was during this experience that I realized I had abilities to connect and teach kids. I had already had a high school math teacher suggest I become a math teacher. My French teacher encouraged me to consider becoming a French teacher. However, after that experience, I knew I was going to become an elementary teacher.

After high school, I journeyed to east Tennessee and furthered my education at Carson-Newman College. It was here that I not only learned to teach, but I was forced to find who I was away from my family and away from my church. I decided whether or not I would attend church on Sundays and if I would go to a Bible study. Not because it was expected, but….because that’s what I wanted to do to have a real relationship with the One who saved me and loves me.

Besides that, I also became involved in Baptist Student Union and attended BASIC (Brothers & Sisters In Christ) on Wednesdays. Thinking back, I realize it was while serving in a position on BSU council that I began my affection to write. I think I was “secretary,” and I began doing a monthly newsletter of the ministry opportunities and events. Most of my closest friends from college were either the ladies I lived with or the friends I met through BSU.

During my second semester of my senior year, I was awarded the Laura Brummit Award for Outstanding Student Teaching. I was stoked (even though CNC never did get my plaque to me – LOL). I was confident that I would walk into my own classroom when fall rolled around. I put applications in at various schools and towns in east Tennessee. I also put my application in back at home. You see, my plan was to stay in Tennessee. However, God’s ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts. My road led me back to Madison, but when fall came….I was still without a classroom. So, I continued praying as I tried to trust Him through the wait.

I had no idea how long that wait would be. From the fall of 1992 to the fall of 1996, I served as a substitute teacher, worked at Wal-Mart, worked at a video store, served as a summer children’s minister at my church, and accepted the job of “part-time BSU director” through the Indiana Baptist Convention to the students on Hanover College’s campus [Note, they all weren’t at the same time…I’m not Super Woman. Hehehe].

When my pastor asked me that first summer to serve in the BSU position, I told him, ” I’ll say yes, but if a teaching job opens…I’m taking it.” I often wondered why that wait lasted four years. One evening at Bible study out at Hanover, I said, “When I get to heaven, I’ll ask Jesus why I needed to wait so long for my teaching job.” One girl looked at me and said, “That’s easy. If you had a teaching job, you never would’ve said yes to leading BSU and BASIC.” She was right. I continued to lead that ministry for several years while I was teaching, but when it grew to the point it needed more than just a few hours each week….I knew it was time to step aside.

It was at that point that my church decided it wanted to have a children’s minister all year. I went in that direction. I love teaching. I especially love teaching kids about Jesus and lessons from the Bible. At this point, the pastor switched children’s church to last the entire worship service. Children went from an hour of Sunday School to an hour of children’s worship. As the children’s minister, I was available to sub for any SS teacher the first hour, and then I would lead children’s church for 60-90 minutes. When summer rolled around and VBS loomed ahead, I remember working on decorations and plans…with tears in my eyes. They were not tears of joy. There was an uneasiness within my spirit letting me know that “staff ministry” wasn’t my calling. As others came to fill that position, I still helped with the children, but…it was a choice to serve rather than my “job.” My joy returned.

That was decades ago. Since then, I’ve experienced mountain tops and walked through some valleys. Through both, God walked with me. It may seem cheesy, but…looking back….that Footprints poem comes to my mind. During some of the hard seasons and even some of the bright seasons, I let Him and my relationship slip from my focus. Yet, He was there. Holding me…walking beside me….loving me.

My current conviction is a reoccuring one. Not to get so busy doing for Him that I neglect my time with Him. Praying. Reading & meditating. Loving. Trusting.

In the end, my journey isn’t perfect. But…it’s the path He ordained for me, and I will trust Him…and walk it. Hopefully, while I walk it, I will bring Him glory as I know He brings me good.

Thanks for reading. What about you? What do you remember about your faith journey

It’s All…Love.

Trying to determine which of my thoughts to write about, and I decided…to share them all since they all lead back to love. More exactly….the Love of Jesus.

First, due to a child’s rash, I discovered that I needed to teach the Crew class again this Sunday. As I taught the kids the lesson of John 13: 1-17, I was sharing about Jesus washing HIs disciples feet. As I taught them, I first discussed the difference between feet today (socks, shoes, concrete) and feet then (sandals & dirt). In the end, we learned the lesson of LOVING JESUS by serving others.

Sometimes, that means doing the dirty jobs….like changing stinky diapers, unclogging toilets, and picking up trash. Other times, it’s serving Jesus by doing what needs to be done. The only boy who was there said, “Like you, Ms. Jodi, when you teach us.” Aww, my cup overflows.

When I got home from lunch and helping my parents, I finished yesterday’s “spring cleaning task.” Then, I sat down to listen to the sermon I missed while hanging in the back with the kids. Pastor Brynen is in the midst of a 4-week sermon series. Today’s focus was….since Jesus loves us (last week’s focus), we love Him.

But….do we daily? Do we love Him when we’re tired and crabby? Do we love Him when life doesn’t go our way? Do we love Him when our prayers aren’t answered the way we wanted them to be? Do we love Him while walking through the valley?

You see, Jesus died for you. He died for me. That act of devotion demands a response. Not just the response of choosing to follow Him and accept His free gift of salvation. The response to daily…choose to love Him…regardless. Not because of what He “gives us” but because of who He is.

Who is He? He’s the One who loved me enough to die. He’s the One who forgives me when I fail Him over and over again. He’s the One who loved me first….loves me still…and has promised…He always will.

You see…I’m single. I’d love to be loved by a man of God. BUT…even though I’m not. Even though I’ve not experienced the “mushy love stuff”…I have experienced the love of a faithful God. As we were reminded in the sermon, relationships go 2-ways. It only “works” when the love goes both ways. Jesus loves me, this I know. So, I must choose to love Him…daily. Regardless of what my circumstance or mood is.

I felt His peace in the midst of the storms that my church has walked through over the past few years. He has given me hope when things looked bleak. He is my joy in the morning. He loves me, and I will choose to love Him. And I will be thankful that even when I fail Him…even when I don’t obey Him as completely as I should…He still loves me.

He loves you too. Have you met Him?

My final thought….is simply sharing the last worship song we sang this morning before I headed back to teach kids. A sermon through a song by Chris Tomlin. Enjoy.

And….

Love Jesus. Every day. With all you are! With your heart, soul, mind and strength!

The Struggle Bus

Right now. I’m struggling with staying awake. My brain was overthinking as I went to bed last night, so it took a while to fall asleep. Then, today at church, I had…NINETEEN kiddos back in Kids’ Crew. I was zonked. Afterwards, a small group of us journeyed out to Hanover College to enjoy their special holiday brunch for St. Patrick’s Day….so I ate too much (I mean, it was $17, so I told myself to eat for the day – LOL). So now, the only thing keeping me awake is….the fact that I’m doing laundry and listening to the sermon I missed while I was back with kids.

Pastor Brynen asked us, “How do you know Jesus loves you?”

I immediately start singing “Jesus Loves Me” in my head – just call me Jodi Jukebox!

But…do I stop and think and mediate on the truth that Jesus LOVES ME! Me. Ms. Jodi. Ms. Pflaumer. Me.

So many times…we…well… I get so wrapped up in serving Christ, doing for Christ, and being what my church & my friends expect me to be. So busy… that I can neglect taking the time to truly experience the love and presence of the One who died for me.

As I listened to the sermon I missed (I mean, teaching kids brings me a lot of joy!), I realized that I need to spend more time BEING with Christ than merely serving Him. Not that serving Christ is wrong, but…we can’t serve Him and neglect being with Him. Experiencing the love and peace that only comes from spending time with Him is foundational in our relationship with the One who died for us.

So, if you’re struggling with this like I am, then I challenge you to do what I’ve been challenged to do. BE with Jesus. Experience His love and presence. Jesus Loves YOU! Find a peace that surpasses understanding by being with Him…not just on Sunday mornings…but every moment of every single day.

Live in the freedom we have in Christ. Move from understanding that Jesus loves you to experiencing His love. Rest in His presence. Rest in His love.

Not Charles Dickens, But…

On the way to work this morning, I was listening to the song list for this Sunday’s service. As I listened to the lyrics, I had one of those “chills” moments. You know what I mean? When you know…that you’re supposed to “get something” and “see God’s work”.

Let me step back. Last night, one of the challenges in the Ash Wednesday service was to pray about how you could shine His light more, share His Word more, and spread His love. I was reminded that…I have a blog and a love of words, so…use them. As I drove home, I told myself that I would write AT LEAST one post a week through Lent (and hopefully longer) to share my ponderings.

Side note. In Charles Dickens books, things all seem to connect by the end. So….if you read the entire post, you’ll understand the title I chose. And…let’s just say the Author of my journey is more trustworthy and loving towards me than Charles Dickens ever was. I mean, he just left me books to read.

Well, as the lyrics played and my smile appeared, I knew what this post needed to be. So, I told myself that as soon as my day was prepped, I would begin this week’s post.

To share the message I need to write, I need to go back a couple years. Back at the end of 2022, Jon Gordon shared a post about “picking a word” for the new year. Likewise, I heard the same thought on K-Love. So…I did. My word was going to be JOY. At the time, I was seeing the church family I have grown up in and love dearly continue to decline in membership. My heart hurt, but I was certain that I was to “find the Joy” in the sorrow. Throughout 2023, I looked for JOY in sad moments. When you look, you find it.

At the end of 2023, I pondered my new word for the new year. Our church membership continued to decline, and my heart hurt. As I read Bible passages about hard times, I saw again and again how God’s people trusted Him. So, my word for 2024 was TRUST. I was encouraged to TRUST Him in the midst of the decline. So, I did my best to trust as people I loved exited our church family. I didn’t get it. I was still serving and being challenged. In the midst of my sadness and confusion, I trusted.

In October of 2024, I sat with my pastor and learned that he was going to begin transitioning out of the pastorate of our church. I knew it was coming, but it caused worry. What would happen? I reminded myself that I was supposed to trust. In the midst of this tidal wave of uncertainty. I determined my new word would be HOPE. I trusted Him through some very hard times at my church, and that trust prompted me to hold on to hope this His plan was good and His power would uphold us.

It made sense to me since my hope comes from my faith. My hope is built on the foundation I find at Calvary – not the building, but the cross of Christ. Regardless of how long we would be without a pastor, I had hope. I knew the lives of my church family mattered to the One we worship and serve. That knowledge…that trust…told me to hope. He had a plan and eventually…we would see the good in the midst of the hard times. We would experience the joy that follows the storm. We would again see the mountaintop after walking through the valley so long.

My word for 2025….Hope. It was picked in October. But alas….God knows me. In December, the deacons started having ‘talks’ with a church that had split from its ‘parent church’ a year and a half (I think) prior. It was planned for us to share Christmas Eve service. There were multiple reasons behind that plan. One, we were without a pastor who would normally lead our Christmas Eve service. Two, they had a growing congregation and their previous Christmas Eve service became a “standing room only” due to the limited space they had. Finally, it gave us a chance to see how well our two bodies could combine into one. It went well.

That led to us sharing three services in January/February. Then, both churches voted to continue to worship together and contemplate the possibility of our churches merging into one.

Ah, the hope. There is so much joy on Sundays…and throughout the week as we join together for Bible study and other ministry events. Honestly, I’m ready to vote to merge into one body of believers now. Perhaps others are not, but….I still hope.

Oh, let me tell you the chills moment. The song was “Good, Good Father”. As I listened to the lyrics, these words…these words brought chills to my arms, a smile to my face, and happy tears to my eyes….

Oh, and I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we’re all searching for answers only You provide
‘Cause You know just what we need before we say a word

Yes! Through my years of JOY and TRUST, I was searching for answers only HE could provide.

He knew what we needed. We needed our hope to be found at Calvary. We needed to trust that He had an answer that only He could provide. No one ever thought of our Southern Baptist Church possibly merging with a nondenominational church. It just….happened. Why? Because…God. God knew. He knew the valley we’d been walking through. He knew we needed our joy restored. He knew our hope was found in His Cross at Calvary, and that through Him…our Hope could be found.

Now…if you know me, you know I love PUNS. Are you ready for the name of the church we’ve been worshiping with. It is Hope Valley. Yep. Our Hope is found at Calvary. We’ve walked through the valley and now….we are reminded of HOPE….through Hope.

I’ll keep you posted on the journey.

But….what do you HOPE in? Where is your hope found?

If it’s not found in Calvary and the cross of Christ….you’re missing true joy, genuine hope, and a peace that surpasses understanding.

Double Great

Go or stay? Out or in? What are we called to do as Christians? What if, we’re called to do both? Can we go out and make disciples while staying and growing believers stronger in their faith? Can we go out and reach the one who is lost and also minister inwardly to our Christian brothers and sisters? From my viewpoint, we shouldn’t do one without the other.

I believe churches are called to be missional. We should have a ministry focus on reaching those outside the church. Sharing the gospel with them to grow the family of God. Serving them to meet their physical and spiritual needs. Trusting that God will lead us to the one we can connect with to share His truths. That’s essential to church growth, but more importantly it’s vital in reaching hurting souls with the compassion of Christ and His saving grace.

However, if that is our sole focus, then we can lose sight of our upward relationship with the One we follow as well as our inward connection to the family of God. All aspects of church life are always open to those who don’t have a saving relationship with the King of Kings. Yet, I think if a Bible study group is composed of only church members or a small group is focused on praying with and living life with other believers that it is still a beneficial and vital ministry of the church.

As I was praying over and pondering my thoughts on this matter, I tried to find something that could represent my viewpoint. I happened upon gracetruth.blog and found my perspective very well-stated:

Discipleship – learning and growing in following Jesus
Worship – praise and prayer to God, participating in the sacraments
Fellowship – building relationships within the church
Mission – going out to share the gospel in words and actions

Personally, I’d switch the order of Discipleship & worship as I think worshiping God is what we were created to do. However, I also assert that discipleship helps us grow more like Jesus. Fellowship allows us to be His hands & feet to our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Then, because of Worship, Discipleship, & Fellowship we will be strengthened, prepared, and encouraged to carryout the Great Commission’s call.

With this mindset, all things that transpire within the church as a family of believers would connect with one of those four prongs. All would focus on building the Kingdom of God whether it’s focused on our personal upward relationship, inward spiritual growth, inner relational connections, or outward service mission.

Well, that’s what I’ve been thinking about and praying through these past few days. One final thought…have a GREAT DAY and do the GREAT things that God has called us towards. Both practicing the GREAT COMMANDMENTS and obeying the GREAT COMMISSION.

New Year, New Word, Same Me

A few years ago, Jon Gordon had written an article about having a “word” for the year. I picked JOY. Last January, Pastor Mike challenged us to pick a word for the year. I chose TRUST. My focal verse (personalized) was to trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding. In all my ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct my paths.

Well, around October, I started pondering what my new word would be for 2025. By November, I knew. My word would be….

My 2024 word got me through a lot of times of doubt. When things looked bleak in an area of my journey, I would remind myself to TRUST the One who guides my step. This year’s word takes trust a step farther. It calls on me to Trust Him, and….to hold on to the HOPE that good things are in my future regardless of what hat I’m wearing at the time.

As I take steps into 2025, I will find my HOPE in the one I trust. Afterall, He’s the original Promise Keeper.

In 2024, I ended a dating relationship of almost 2 years. He & I remain friends, but it became clear that our views of a our “relationship” were different. After lots of shed tears, I remain friends with him. I chose to find the lesson in the loss. I know what conversations to have before letting myself fall for someone new. I still cherish the relationships I’ve built with his family, but…I had to let go of the idea of what could be and accept what was. I trusted He would restore my joy, and He did. This new year, I start in HOPE that if a relationship is in my future that it will be God-centered and for my good and His glory. If there’s not, my peace remains.

Over the past few years, I’ve watched the membership of my church decline. This is a church that I’ve called “my family” since I was a 4th grader. It has prompted lots of tears, but I’ve continued to serve and to trust Him. My viewpoint on church membership isn’t like most. I will remain faithful until I find myself in a relationship with someone who goes elsewhere or until the person behind the pulpit fails to preach scripture. I’ve remained constant through good times, bad times, and really bad times. I continue to trust. Now, I will take the trust a step farther, and HOPE. I will hope that the next chapter brings growth in membership and faithfulness for those who gather as a family. Maybe I’m Pollyanna and refuse to see the downside, but I believe that He who began a good work will continue it for His glory. I will serve. I will sing. I will trust. And…I will have HOPE.

So, as 2024 comes to a close, are you ending discouraged? If so, rest on the One who sustains.

We live in a fallen world. A world of disease, divorce, wars, and meanness…those things can play a toll on our hearts and our minds.

This year, I’ve watched a friend’s niece battle cancer. On the day I celebrated my nephew’s 26th birthday, I attended this little girl’s funeral. Cancer…sucks. (If you know me, you know that’s not a word I use…but I don’t know a better word for that sentence.) It makes no sense that thousands of people can pray for a little girl’s healing, and in the end…her family must say good-bye to her. Life’s not fair. Sometimes, we can get overwhelmed by how unfair life can be. Yet, we must cling to HOPE. The hope that one day…a cure will be found to keep other children (& adults) from battling this terrible disease. The hope…that the One who didn’t answer our prayers as we wanted knows things that we do not. As this family said good-bye to her, I envisioned Jesus hugging her in a grand welcome and telling her that her battle has ended and she can rest. Hope that my friend and her family will reunite with this little angel one day…on the other side of the journey.

So, tomorrow….is a new day. In fact, it’s the beginning of a new year. May we each cling to the HOPE we can find in Jesus. If you don’t know Him, you can. Call on His name and follow the One who is Peace in the midst of chaos, Love in the midst of hate, Joy in the midst of heartache. Let Him be your Hope.

So, what’s your word for 2025?

Relating….

My first week of year 29 teaching in an elementary school is behind me. Last Monday, as I listened to our superintendent and again on Tuesday while I listened to our principal, I was challenged to build relationships with my students. Positive, encouraging, appropriate relationships. Now, to be honest, they usually touch on this thought every year in our opening meeting (along with communication which is another post to write for another day), but this year…I thought, “I should travel through my educational memories to see what stands out.”

Let’s get this walk down memory lane started….

In Tipton, I attended nursery school. That’s what preschool was before preschool, I suppose. My only memory was a play kitchen. I don’t remember the teachers or the learning, but I do remember the joy of the play kitchen.

Next came kindergarten with Mrs. Stout. I remember she was really tall, or she at least seemed really tall. I have no memory of kindergarten outside of that. However, Mrs. Stout made me feel really important when I started first grade. Why? She had my speech teacher ask me “how” I tied my shoes. It seemed her new class had a lot of kids who didn’t know how, and she remembered I learned quickly. I was quite proud to teach my speech teacher how to use bunny ears to tie shoes. Boom! I rocked as a first grader.

First grade had me moving from a tall Mrs. Stout to a short Miss Knopp. My two first grade memories are playing with the cement turtle on the playground while being chased my Kenny and the fact that my teacher wore high heels every single day. I’m guessing because she was short. She wasn’t much taller than the older elementary students, but she was pretty and nice. What she taught me? I have no idea. I don’t remember a single interaction with her, but she was pretty and short. Ha.

In second grade, I had “an old” teacher. Her name was Mrs. Hart. Now, to be honest she may have just been a little older than my parents, but my memory is she was old. I remember Tony Z. bringing a snowball inside and storing it in his desk. When there was an afternoon puddle, we all laughed including Mrs. Hart. However, the next day, he tried for a repeat chuckle and failed. He left snow outside after that. My other memory was cleaning chalkboard erasers and being able to “pick somebody” to clean them with you. When it was my turn, I picked Jody D. I mean, when you like somebody in second grade and you’re quiet and shy (I’m sure that shocks some of you) that’s about as close as you get to letting the boy know.

In third grade, I have 3 distinct memories. First, we were now living in Shelbyville, IN. I attended a small school. To show your mastery of multiplication, a student would go to the office and be quizzed with flashcards by the principal and needed to complete it in a specific amount of time. This quiet bashful third grader was scared to death, but I proudly achieved the status. Then, Mrs. Wheeler had my friends Kim, Shana, and I go up to Mr. Warnke’s math class. He taught fourth grade. His boys acted like we were dumb little girls, SO I showed them! I wrote a problem like 234 x 1,000,000,000,000,000 on a paper and quickly wrote down the answer. They never bothered us again. Whenever we get to the multiples of 10 math lesson, I ALWAYS tell this story to my students. The last memory always leads to a vocabulary & writing lesson in my current classroom. While I was out sick, I had to write a paragraph about transportation or something. I used my sister’s 6th grade book to get some information. When I went to read it to my class, I couldn’t pronounce one of the words. Rather than teaching me phonetic skills or helping me with the correct speech patterns, she wrote, “This is plagiarism because if you wrote it you would know how to say the words.” I had no idea what plagiarism was, and she never told me. So, each year, my students learn what it is and not to do it.

In fourth grade, we had moved to Madison, which is where I live now. I have lots of memories of my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Owings. Whether it was reporting if a classmate who struggled with body odor was improving or being impressed with my work after I missed the entire month of January with illness, Mrs. Owings was encouraging. I also remember Johnny Appleseed Day. I tried to start “Johnny Appleseed Day” in fourth grade where I currently teach, but it never took off. Maybe we should try it again?

In 5th grade, I had Mrs. Combs. I remember math races on the board and having Jason as my toughest competitor. I remember Jennifer and I attempting to store our things on an empty shelf at the back of the room, and Mrs. Combs telling us nicely that our things should be in our desks.

In 6th grade, my teacher was Mr. Stoner. My first memory from day 1 was his bulletin board. He had an 8×10 of his wife and an 8×10 of his dog. That made perfect sense to this animal loving student. I remember him having a packet of songs and us sitting in a circle outside singing songs as he played the guitar. I also remember him filling up an entire chalkboard with social studies notes for us to copy. Ugh – I hated (and am still not a fan) of social studies. It was also in 6th grade that I earned my first recess detention (for doing the wrong homework), but he let me leave early since it wasn’t a habit. I went to Mrs. Knowland for Reading, but I don’t remember any of the books we read or writing we did. I had Mr. Lamb for math, and I remember that I stunk at “the stock market” which he had us “play” in class. His class was my first academic C, and I remember being in tears needing to let Dad know that I had a C.

That led me to junior high and high school. Too many teachers to count, but I remember that Mr. Robinson would say my name as Jo-DEE in jest and that my 8th grade science teacher went to church with me. My French teacher encouraged me to consider becoming a French teacher. My favorite high school teacher was Mr. Dugan. I had him for two of my three years of high school. He encouraged me to be a math teacher, and he’d have me help him in the “tutoring room” during my study hall. One of my favorite classes was etymology which could be why I’m such a love of words and vocabulary, but my personality didn’t mesh well with that class’ instructor.

In the end, I get it. Relationships matter. Connections matter. I still interact with some of my teacher on Facebook, and a few have purchased copies of my books. Once, I ran into Dugan and his wife at Culver’s eating lunch, and when I was still standing at his table visiting when my meal came out.

Relationships matter. Not just relationships between teacher & students, but also your relationship with coworkers. How do the you get along with the people you work with? Do you need to work on it? I’ve had great, good, and not-so-hot relationships with coworkers. Sometimes, I just decide to kill ’em with kindness when they’re rough. I’ve learned that that skill can eventually transform challenging connections into blessings.

However, the most important relationship for me is the one I have with my Creator. He loves me through the good, bad, and the ugly. He helps me be the best me I can be, so I can give Him the glory. I don’t always shine, but I try. If you don’t know Him, I’d love to introduce you.

You Know You’re Old When…

I had planned to write this yesterday, but my days changed when I realized today would be the 4th… In the past, I would either enjoy a cook-out at my sister’s or at a friend’s house, but today…it’s just me & the boys (aka my cats).

Regardless, my topic has nothing to do with the holiday…but everything to do with the realization…I’m old. Ha.

For the past several years, I have spent the week or two before my birthday aging my profile pics– reminding me of the journey from birth to whichever birthday it is. However, Tuesday, I was reminded of another sign of getting old.

For the past months, my washing machine has had to have an “extra try” or another spin cycle added to the end of a load’s washing because….the old girl just couldn’t get the job done. Right when I was pondering a trip to Lowe’s to purchase a new machine, I heard my nephew discussing how he was going to be selling a lot of his apartment’s items as he wouldn’t need them in the apartment he and his wife would be sharing. The lightbulb went off, and I exclaimed, “I’ll buy it!”

Patiently, I waited for the new-to-me machine and made ‘the old girl’ work a few more months. Finally, my sister & brother-in-law’s vacations arrived, and the NEW machine was delivered.

Let me just say… I LOVE IT! Now, the boys aren’t fans as they scurry to another room whenever it runs. Why? It makes different noises.

To be honest, when I started my trial load on Tuesday, I asked my sister, Sherry, “Is that how it’s supposed to sound?” To which she replied, “Yes, Jodi. Your machine was old. Newer machines don’t sound the same.” Now, when the washer stops, the clothes are washed and spun out to the point that they don’t need “more time” or “another try” to get rid of excess water.

Sometimes, we know we’re old because….our parts don’t work as well they used to.

Maybe….we find ourselves needing to take fiber supplements. Perhaps, we need to wrap our knee before we take a long walk. Possibly, our eyes require bifocals to see things or read clearly. Maybe, at the end of a long day, we need to put a heating pad behind our back. Let’s face it…washing machines aren’t the only thing whose parts wear down and need help. Just saying.

Sometimes, we know we’re old because we’re super excited about getting a new appliance.

Okay, so I’ve posted my #gratitudejournalofjodilea on FB for a few years now. My new-to-me washing machine has made the list for its first two nights. To be honest, it’ll make it tonight too. Why? I’m FINALLY washing my blanket & comforter that I took off my bed a month ago because I trust it to wash & spin it enough to throw into the dryer. To tell the truth, I was looking forward to coming home and starting the washing up. Hmmm, that’s probably another sign.

Sometimes, we know we’re old because it’s a rainy day and the perfect opportunity for a nap.

Scratch that. That’s been my perspective for decades. Alas, the rain and my roomies have determined…it’s time for this old lady to take a nap.

Enjoy your 4th…whether you’re young or old….or somewhere in between!

Too Purply?

To be honest, I was debating about today’s post topic. Part of me wants to write about last weekend when my MOST FAVORITE NEPHEW IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD got married. Alas, I’ve decided to delay that until I have a wedding picture to include. So, the other topic in my head is Purple.

Now most people probably couldn’t write an entire post about purple, but let’s face it…I’m not most people.

This past weekend when Connor & Sarah were married, I altered from my usual wedding attire (one of my many purple or partly purple dresses) to wear black and white to compliment their color choice. However, I did wear a little purple. It was on my Color Street Nail Polish. Just a bit of purple glitter as to not steal the attention, but…enough to make my outfit more me.

Speaking of wearing purple, I have a lavender shirt on right now. Wearing purple always reminds me of that poem about wearing purple when I’m old. Well, I’ve worn purple for decades even before I became old. However, I just looked up the actual poem, and I found that the first sentence and the last stanza are the only parts of that poem that match “me”, so I’ll refrain from buying a copy. However, you may want to check it out.

Purple seems like it’s becoming a synonym for Ms. Pflaumer. From presents to pictures, my students shower me with purple throughout the year. I’ve had various friends just pick up small tokens for me when they see something purple. My neighbor teacher happened upon a small lavender Christmas tree in her parent’s attic, and she & her kiddos delivered it to my classroom. It’s decorated Room 404 for Decembers ever since. To be honest, if I’m shopping for clothes or whatever, my eyes always find the purple first. That’s how I have had over six sets of purple sheets and over six purple purses at one time or another. It’s just….me.

Of course, there’s that purple kitchen and purple house that circulate every-so-often on social media. It never fails that I’m tagged in those pictures by someone or by multiple someones each year. That may be the only time I say something is “too purple.” I usually comment that I love purple, but…sometimes it’s better as an accent. Hmm, it’s been a couple years since I’ve been tagged in those pics, so maybe their popularity has faded.

A friend commented once that a lot of people have favorite colors, but it seems that people who like purple are more “over-the-top” with it. I accept that. I mean, it’s probably in a range of obsession from a little to a lot. I admit that I’m more on the mega side because when I pick up my tshirt purchase in a bit, I think I’m going to order another one…in a shade of purple….cause…well, it’s just me.

But why?

I don’t know why others like purple, but I know why I do. It all started back during the second semester of my freshman year of college. In our Comp 101 class, we had to write an essay about family traditions tied to a holiday. I wrote mine about Christmas and our tree topper. Even though at the time we put a teddy bear on the top of our tree (I collected teddy bears and as the baby of the family…that was enough to put a bear on top even though I was a teenager and nearly an adult), I explained how I would put an angel or star on my own tree. Confession….my first angel was wearing a purple velvet robe. Anyway, my friend Kelly came into my room and said she was going to write about Easter. However, her family only went to church two Sundays a year, so she wanted to know what my family did for Easter.

Well, the two of us sat down on my bed (because our rooms were tiny and that was the only place to sit), and I pulled out my Bible. We started with Palm Sunday, went to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and we ended up on Easter Sunday. As I shared about the various church services I attended, the verses about the mocking of Jesus stood out. In a world where people are cruel, it reminded me that Jesus faced it too. He faced it. He was beaten. He was crucified. But….

He lived. He lives. That is when the purple seed was planted. Before that day, pink was “the color”. My mom even painted mine & my sister’s bedroom a shade of pink because of it. But, pink was kicked to the curb and replaced by purple – the new king….as it represented the King who saved me, loves me, accepts me, and has plan for my life. That! That is why PURPLE isn’t just my favorite color, but…it’s as if it’s a part of who I’ve become. I know that sounds weird, but…it’s my conversation starter.

Why? When you don’t have a favorite color but you have a FAVORITE color, people inquire. They ask if it’s still your color, and at some point….they ask WHY?

When that three letter word it uttered, I tell them the same story I told Kelly. I let them know that my favorite color reminds me of the One in whom I have faith. Do you know Him? If not, let me introduce you….

So, things may be a little too purply for some people, but for this old lady…I’ve been wearing and buying and receiving purple since I was 18. In case you think I’m exaggerating about my purple……here’s my evidence.

After finding most of these pics in my FB photos, maybe I do have a problem?

Nah, it’s just me. Take me or leave me….I’m still going to be Jodi Lea PLUM-er. Have a great day, and remember the power of purple.

Ya Gotta Have Faith!

Faith. Trust. Those are two words that have been ruminating in my thoughts through the first half of this year. So, it seemed like a good reason to write some of my ponderings.

At the beginning of the year, I picked my word of the year. My word? TRUST. Lots of reasons that caused it to be my word. Trust leads to faith. They’re like two peas in a pod. They’re like Laverne & Shirley. Salt & Pepper. Peanut Butter & Jelly. Oh well, I digress…

Over the past several years, the membership at my church has declined. Various reasons, but with each exit of a person or a family, my heart hurts. Yet, in the midst of each departure, a still small Voice whispers…Trust Me. It’s hard sometimes, but I stay faithful to the church that helped me become who I am. You know that song recorded by Miranda Lambert, The House That Built Me, that’s how I feel about my church. Not the building -but the people, the ministry, and the belonging. So, I continue to serve faithfully and trust that He will walk the steps with me.

Trust leads me to faith. My faith in God helps me to trust Him. Then, I ponder…in what else do we have faith?

In my classroom, when I explain faith, we talk about how we have faith that the chair will hold us each time we sit. We don’t think and debate each time we sit down whether we should or should not. Alas, those chairs don’t always last. When the chairs start to wobble, they’re thrown out with the trash…literally. Faith is important, but what’s more important is in what or who we have faith….

When I was growing up, I often heard “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds” when referring to the post office. Turns out that the saying has nothing to do with the post office, but it came from an ancient book and referred to messengers in the Persian Empire. It actually comes from book 8, paragraph 98, of The Persian Wars by Herodotus, a Greek historian.

Regardless, I’ve always had faith in our postal system. Each summer when I send post cards to my students, I trust that they’ll arrive within the week that I mail them. It’s a faith built on past experience. However, just like that chair doesn’t always hold up to the trust we have in it, my faith in the postal system also waivered. On April 12th, my sister mailed out invitations to my nephew’s wedding. Mine arrived on….June 10th. I kid you not. It took almost TWO entire months for my invitation to make it from Hanover to my house – which is less than a 10 minute drive. Granted, letters have to go through all the hoops of the postal system, but … that’s ridiculous! My faith has been severed. My trust has been abolished. When I send out my letters to my new students this summer, I’ll be sending them out 2-3 weeks ahead of school rather than just the week prior. Recent experience has destroyed the trust and faith.

Faith & trust also play important parts in relationships. Sometimes, I think it’s more hope than faith. We hope that one day feelings will be reciprocated and relationships will strengthen. In time, we find that the hope has been deflated and the faith we had in the connection has been extinguished. It’s part of life, I suppose.

Faith and trust aren’t infallible. Those we trust can betray us or a “little lie” can destroy it. The ones we have faith in can fall off the pedestal that they’re on and our hearts can feel betrayed. What do you trust? Where is your faith?

In the end, the only One who never falters is the One who created me (Father), gave His life for me (Son), and dwells within me (Holy Spirit). Those who don’t share my faith hurl swords at it on social media because to them it makes no sense. It doesn’t help that some who do share my faith have actions or words that tarnish the REAL faith. All I know is that the One who holds my faith is the One who also sees my tears. The One who reminds me that I’m worth it when I feel devalued. The One who reminds me that He has a plan for me and is using me to make an impact on the lives of others.

That Faith….that Trust….is my foundation and give me hope for tomorrow.

Thanks for reading my ponderings. Have a great day! Good-bye….