School has started once again. Do you ever stop to savor those early memories—especially from grade school—noticing again the ones that make you smile, and those that still bring a twinge of pain?

My most vivid school memory, while in the third grade, has nothing to do with what happened at my desk, reading and studying. What was hard was the playground. I was a gentle natured child, yet at home I had a big sister that could be fearsome. So, on the playground no one matched my big sister. I knew I could take on any who tried to put the fear of God in me at recess. Then, it happened. Her name was Gladys. She was much bigger than I, yet when she threatened my existence—wham-o, she was on the ground. With me on top of her, I saw great surprise in her eyes. When we arose from the ground, the two of us never again “crossed swords.” She understood her size gave her no edge when it came to me.

Mostly, I was never teased or bullied, as word gets around on the playground. I do remember Francis, though, as she liked to pull hair. So, another vivid, jaw tightening memory is of Francis and me during our hair-pulling matches. I hung on to the nth degree. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I would not let go until Francis’s last yank and long hold.  Finally, she gave up. We became friends after that. Another lesson of not giving up in the battles of life, but rather to hold tight until each one is over.

Now, mind you, I knew that I could not be a winner at home. So, I loved school. There, I could win.

What was the greatest thrill during those first years in school?

For me it is a tossup between the grand experience of learning and recess.

I have a mature view on things now, but home and school ground memories still play a role in day-to-day life. We pick our battles, yes, but also, as grownups we can learn from one another—even those who would like to take us on.

I am remembering a woman on the job who decided my work was gaining too much attention. She set out to get me fired. I was unnerved as Gary was in a four-year grad program and I was paying the bills.

It took standing toe-to-toe with Lady Lois and speaking some “just right” words to open her eyes to the legal help I would soon bring onboard. She begged forgiveness and promised to quit her job. I said, “No. You don’t need to do that. Just stop sabotaging my work. We can work together. And, that is what we did. Shortly after that, Gary’s program ended and we moved to Arizona for him to take his first post as a Radiologic Technologist.

We learn to win in different ways. Our experiences often prepare us for what is ahead. I was born while Dad was working on Shasta Dam in Redding, California. Ten months later my parents moved us to Idaho. We moved around a lot as my father and my grandfather worked on dams in the Northwest and the Southwest. As a teenager I was educated in three states during my four years of high school. The resulting tendency to be comfortable with all those I meet, whether or not  I have met them before, has worked well for me—especially in my work as a chaplain. All experiences prior to receiving a call to serve in that capacity developed more sides to me. It is possible to move beyond being efficacious, seeking to be “on top” . . . wanting to win.

Fortunately, I found Jesus early in life, the greatest friend ever to be found. He began to focus my life on loving, supporting and caring about the needs of others. It seems to fit that my name is Joy and my blood type is B-Positive. “Go figure.” I became a chaplain.

Friends are important to me, but having the wherewithal to assist others to get through their difficulties has become foremost on my plate.

I can tell you about Jesus, my best-friend-ever through parts of a hymn by Joseph C. Ludgate (1898):

“Friendship with Jesus, fellowship divine,

O what blessed, sweet communion,

Jesus is a friend of mine!

A friend when other friendships cease,

A friend when others fail,

A friend who gives me joy and peace,

A friend who will prevail.