RLL 79: Live B.I.G. (like Mrs. Hibbs) in 2020

Real Life Leading 79: Live B.I.G. in 2020

During the Christmas season, my colleagues and I said goodbye to a dear friend, Mrs. Teresa Hibbs. She was a fellow teacher, a wonderful Godly woman, and a person who lived out the Gospel every day. At her funeral, I was privileged to hear our school’s administrator, Mrs. Greer, share about Mrs. Hibbs’ life. Yesterday at teacher in-service, I was blessed to hear another Mrs. Greer (daughter-in-law of the aforementioned Mrs. Greer) share again about Mrs. Hibbs. What both Mrs. Greers shared I’ve summarized here, as an encouragement and exhortation to all of us to live as Mrs. Hibbs lived: to live B.I.G. Mrs. Hibbs was a teacher for over 40 years at numerous schools, and the students she taught and influenced is numbered in the thousands. She was a football mom, a constant source of encouragement, and a woman who loved her family and friends fiercely.

As Mrs. Greer said, Mrs. Hibbs believed in other people, even when they didn’t believe in themselves. Students who were struggling, or whom other teachers had written off, found a place of comfort and hope with Mrs. Hibbs. She would challenge them and encourage them and ultimately believe in them so much that they couldn’t help but believe in themselves. It wasn’t that she didn’t hold them accountable; she very much did. In fact, perhaps my favorite story I heard about Mrs. Hibbs is one that I just learned of recently. Mrs. Hibb’s father had a physical disability requiring the use of a prosthetic arm and a hook in place of one hand. She often shared stories about him with her students, to help them see that difficulties can be overcome. And on the rare days that the students would continue to complain about their lot, she would surprise them by pulling the prosthesis and hook out of her desk drawer, placing it forcefully on her desk, and not-so-subtly reminding the students that they had much less to complain about than they thought! She believed in them, and in doing so, she showed them just how much they were capable of.

Second, Mrs. Hibbs inspired her students to accomplish much more than they would have dreamt possible. This was seen in the many, many students who came to her in the midst of academic struggles. For much of her career, Mrs. Hibbs worked with these students, often with various cognitive diagnoses or IEPs that had caused the students to struggle and/or other teachers to write them off. But Mrs. Hibbs set about inspiring these students through her love, her compassion, and her accountability. She never allowed students to use their circumstances as an excuse for not giving the very best effort they could. On the contrary, because of her, many students were able to overcome their circumstances and perform at a higher level than ever before, because of the inspiration they got from her. Many of these students attended her funeral, and it was an amazing testimony to her life to see how many kids had similar experiences in her classroom. Mrs. Hibbs inspired them, and it changed their lives.

Finally, Mrs. Hibbs gave to her students. She gave them her time, her energy, her compassion, her love, her joy, and her hope. She gave them these things when they didn’t have much of it themselves. She was often found at school very early, playing her praise and worship music, and simply being available in case anyone needed to stop by and chat. She gave of her breaks, and her meal times, and her planning periods, to talk with students and just listen to what was going on in their lives. She gave of herself in ways that many students had never experienced from a teacher before, and as a result of that, they knew that she loved them. And this love was transformational for too many of them to count. Because Mrs. Hibbs gave, many others also learned to give.

If you didn’t have the privilege of meeting and knowing Mrs. Hibbs, you missed out on a wonderful woman and a true servant of others. If you did have the joy of knowing her, be thankful, remember her, and pay tribute to her memory by living as she did: live B.I.G. in this new year, and in every year after.

**Special thanks to Mrs. Cindy Greer and Mrs. Meredith Greer for sharing the above message. The acronym is not mine, nor are the stories, but any mistakes or omissions are entirely my fault.**

RLL 78: Bizarre Thanksgiving Meals

RLL 78: Bizarre Thanksgiving Meals

[Originally published at: https://www.encouragingdads.com/blog/bizarre-thanksgiving-meals]

by Joel Hawbaker, written for www.encouragingdads.com

When I was in high school, we had bizarre Thanksgiving celebrations at my house, though I didn’t realize it at the time. They weren’t bizarre because we ate outlandish food or participated in strange rituals or just pretended the holiday didn’t exist. What I mean is that Thanksgiving was bizarre because of who we celebrated it with.

My parents split up when I was in middle school, and about a year later my mom started dating the man that I still call my stepdad today. My parents remained in the same town, and even though we lived with Mom, Dad came and picked us up to take us to school each morning. When Brian (my stepdad) entered the picture, I expected things to get tense or difficult because of everything I’d ever heard about stepfamilies. I also expected that because of my own insecurity; I figured one or both of them would be jealous and then things might get ugly.

UNEXPECTED RESULTS

Instead, the exact opposite happened: Dad and Brian became good friends. Dad was still welcome at Mom’s house for Thanksgiving, and so that became how we celebrated. Around the same table, a visitor would have seen my brother, my sister, myself, and Mom, Dad, and Brian; and a lot of years they’d have also seen Brian’s dad (who we affectionately called “Pops”) and my mom’s mother (Granny Bet).

I didn’t realize this was bizarre until I went to college. Until then, I didn’t know many people whose parents were divorced. In fact, when my parents split up, I remember having the conscious thought that, “I’ve just become a statistic.” Divorce wasn’t nearly as common, or at least it didn’t seem to be as common, in the 1990s as it seems to be today. So I didn’t have many situations to compare mine with until I was in college. It was there that I learned just how bizarre my Thanksgiving celebrations had been and how blessed our family was by them.

I remember one other important part of that time period, a conversation I had with my father after one of those Thanksgiving meals. I asked him if he was really as OK as he seemed with the whole situation. His answer was simple and profound. He said, “Son, since your mom and I divorced, it’s no longer my business who she spends her time with. As long as he is good to you, I don’t have any say in the matter, nor should I.”

That struck me as incredibly mature (almost beyond the comprehension of an incredibly immature and insecure teenager like I was), and as I’ve gotten older I have been more and more struck by the truth and power in that statement. Dad was showing me that he still loved me and cared for me, but he also was showing me that he respected Mom’s role to live her own life free of his interference. Mom and Dad backed up their words and demonstrated this on a daily basis, and Brian did the same: he never tried to replace Dad or push him out of the picture.

In another stunning example of maturity, Brian and Dad respected each other and even became friends. In fact, when Dad died in the summer of 2008, Brian was one of the men who spoke at my father’s memorial service. Both men were military veterans with a high sense of honor, duty, and respect, and I was blessed to have two amazing father-figures in my world from high school onward. This had an even more powerful effect on my life since I went through a divorce (with two daughters) about a decade ago.

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LESSONS LEARNED

There are many lessons to be learned from this, but I just want to share a few of them with you right now. First, ask yourself what kind of example you had growing up and if it’s an example you want to imitate and live up to, or if it’s the kind of example you want to avoid becoming yourself. When we know what we’re trying to accomplish (or avoid), we’re much more likely to find success.

Second, think about your relationship with your ex and his/her new partner. It’s not likely that we’re all going to become friends with our ex’s new partner. But there’s no reason why we can’t be respectful and kind and try to build a solid relationship. I know it can be difficult, and I know it won’t always be easy (or even successful), but the attempt to build a relationship with your ex’s new partner is about more than just that relationship: it’s about setting a good example for your children, even if you’re the only one doing it.

Third and finally, be willing to consider looking at things from the perspective of the other party. My best friend David is about 6’4” tall, and when we were teenagers he cracked his head on the pull-up bar I had screwed into my bedroom door frame. I only stand 5’3” tall, so it never occurred to me that it could be a hazard like that! This past weekend at our Friendsgiving celebration, David and his wife came. So, before they got there, I made sure to take down the pull-up bar that I have, in order to prevent him repeating the situation from many years ago. Then it occurred to me: I’ve never been a stepdad, so I don’t know what it’s like. Thus, it would be good for me to listen and learn and be willing to see things from a different perspective, especially one that is outside of my experience.

That is what Dad and Brian both did: dad was never a stepdad, and Brian never had any biological children. Instead, they worked together (along with Mom) to raise us well and to set a good example. They loved us differently and in complementary ways. They worked to get along, and they worked to encourage us in our school work, our athletics, and in our family lives as we all got older. And for me, it all began with those bizarre Thanksgiving meals.

This Christmas season, consider your family traditions: what example did you see, what relationship can you build on, and how willing are you to look at things from another person’s perspective? Whatever you’re going through, remember that you’re not alone, and we’re here to help.