I had my students read an article of the week about ChatGPT – an artificial intelligence tool that is scaring educators across the world. Many think students will lose the ability to write because they can have ChatGPT write for them. My students agreed they are better off learning to write than allowing a machine to do it for them. However, they felt it might be helpful as a springboard for their writing assignments.
So I played with it for a bit today. I asked it several questions about the current novel we are reading, The Great Gatsby, and found it came up with some great information. I was able to ask it to revise some of my questions and it came up with better content. I think this would be a good tool for teachers to get a student started. We know how our students write so we should be able to tell if a student used ChatGPT and did not add their own voice. I plan to use it as a way to encourage students to find different ways to answer the same prompt.
I also took a moment to ask ChatGPT about me. The first response was not accurate but it was close. It said I was a professional coach, which I’m not. I asked it to revise it again and then it told me I had overcome a traumatic brain injury. Huh? I told it I did not have a traumatic brain injury but had overcome the trauma of raising a severely disabled son. I also reminded it that I wrote more than just “Caregivers’ Devotions to Go.” I did not mention I had written “My Message is Clear” but I did mention I have eight journals on my published list.
This is what ChatGPT came up with for my bio:
Gigi Devine Murfitt is a speaker, writer, and high school teacher. She is the author of the book “Caregiver’s Devotions to Go,” which offers practical tips and inspirational stories for caregivers who are looking to find hope, joy, and peace in their daily lives. In addition to her book, Murfitt has published eight journals to help readers learn how to use writing as a tool for healing and self-reflection.
Murfitt is also a motivational speaker who has shared her personal experiences as a caregiver and mother of a severely disabled son with audiences across the United States and around the world. She offers practical tools and strategies for resilience and growth, drawing from her own experiences and insights.
As a high school teacher, Murfitt helps her students unlock their potential and find meaning and purpose in their lives. She also emphasizes the importance of the mind-body-spirit connection in her teaching.
Murfitt’s work is focused on helping people to find hope, joy, and peace in the midst of life’s challenges. She is a testament to the power of resilience and has inspired many with her message of hope and inspiration.
Tell me what you think!
Artificial intelligence is a great resource but it is NOT the be-all-end-all solution because it certainly has some issues. You can use it, teach it what it said wrong, and learn from the way it chose to say what you might have said a different way.
Let me know if you want me to show you how to use it.
Blessings sent your way
Gigi
]]>I like Julia Jones. She is a strong businesswoman and a loving mom who embraced her new life, even though it was difficult. She never gives up on helping her daughters forgive their estranged father.
What I relate to most is the story of redemption between families broken by harsh words spoken and decisions made that affect them all. Julia is determined to forgive and works to help her daughters do the same. She never set out to fall in love again, but in a twist of fate, she finds Heath, a divorce’ himself with a similar story. Joining their two families proves extremely challenging as they work through these estrangement issues.
Alongside many people in my life, I’ve experienced estrangement too. So this book hit home for me. I loved how Julia never gave up on finding a way for her daughters to forgive and move forward in their relationship with their dad and his new wife. It gave me hope for my situation.
Even if you have not experienced estrangement or family relationship challenges, I believe you’ll enjoy this read. It is full of love and faith and forgiveness is woven in with a few surprising plot twists.
Debbie Macomber breathes life into the believable characters she creates in her novels. She hits the issues we all face and adds a touch of romance to keep our hearts hoping. If you are looking for a good book to read, pick this one up. It is now available in paperback from RandomHouseBooks.com. I think I picked it up at Target and I’m sure you could get it at most bookstores or online.
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Cheryl was my friend for almost thirty years. We spent many hours together in class at Seattle Ministry Institute. Each Thursday I’d drive her home from class and we shared hopes and dreams together. Our cohort started strong and only a handful finished. Cheryl was my encouragement to finish strong.
The past several Christmas seasons have been spent with her at her apartment in Bothell, WA. We laughed and cried and schemed about the next book we would write together. Our Friday lunches sometimes became Friday dinners because we talked for hours. Our phone calls would often last more than an hour.
She went to heaven on July 1, 2022, and I dearly miss our times together. Rest well my friend.
So what do we do when Christmas just isn’t the same? Maybe it is because the family isn’t getting along. Could it be that finances are so tight you don’t have any extra for gifts? Or perhaps, like me, you’ve lost someone special. It is hard. I know. I’ve cried many tears this December over what is no more. I’ve learned to focus on the good memories and trust God to give me a new friend. Cheryl can never be replaced, but I am certain God will make a way for me to find that deep friendship again.
What has always kept me going in a season of Christmas is the story from 1965 when my hometown of Anaconda, MT made our Christmas so very special. I wrote this article as an assignment in a writing class and it was published on the front page of The Montana Standard and The Anaconda Leader newspapers during Christmas 2006. I share it with you to bring you hope when a loss might be trying to steal your joy.
A Devine Christmas Thank You
]]>Thanks to a loving community, the harsh reality of cancer was forgotten for our family during Christmas 1965.
Over Thanksgiving weekend, lung cancer had stolen away our beloved dad, Bob Devine. Mom’s first words after he died were “Now what are we going to do?” With medical bills exceeding $10,000 and a bank account wiped out, she feared the worst.
At age 44, although she had overcome the challenges of a high school injury that left her crippled, Mom had no idea how to deal with the reality of her life as a widow with 10 children. The situation looked grim as Christmas day closed in.
My teenage siblings pitched in to make the season feel somewhat normal. They cut down a fresh tree and dragged the boxes of decorations from the basement.
Dad loved to watch his 10 children scramble for their favorite ornament and carefully place it on the branches of the evergreen. Jim and Jack, the 15-year-old twins, lifted 4-year-old Patti on their shoulders placing the angel on top of the 10-foot pine, something Dad used to do. Christmas would be different without him, but this one would be remembered for the rest of our lives.
Imagine the mystery and surprise when each day Christmas angels emptied their pocketbooks to fill a deep void left in our hearts. They filled our front and back porches with Christmas love. There were sacks of potatoes, bags of flour and sugar, apples and oranges, boxes of cereal, turkeys, hams and roasts. One egg carton arrived with a $100 bill tucked neatly inside. Wrapped gift boxes marked “boy” or “girl” were quickly hidden to save the Christmas morning surprise for the kids who still believed in Santa.
Although she claimed not to believe in Santa, 13-year-old Kathy was forced to say “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” as she watched us trip over the packages on Christmas morning. Yet, Santa was not a singular noun, like our English teacher mom had taught us. Santa was an entire community, dear sweet Anaconda.
We were overwhelmed by clothes and coats; a train, a race car set; Monopoly and Mouse Trap games, dolls with beautiful dresses, ice skates, sleds and skis. The most overwhelming thing was the look on mom’s face as she watched her cherished 10 squeal with delight at the surprises.
Mom would not have been able to buy any toys this year, just a month after losing dad. At a time when her future was uncertain and worry caused sleepless nights, loving friends and strangers gave her something to smile about.
To this day, we do not know the names of the Christmas angels who blessed us in 1965. No one ever came forward to take credit. God knows who was responsible for this incredible blessing that lives on in our hearts.
This gift of love has motivated me to help needy families in my community. One year we witnessed the excited smiles as we delivered food and wrapped gifts to a Romanian family with 13 children. Christmas 1965 came alive in my heart that day.
Severe dementia has stolen mom’s ability to tell this story herself, but for years it was a favorite told to her family. As she lives her remaining years in a nursing home, I am telling the story for her.
May the blessing of Christmas live long in your hearts as you choose to pass it on to those in need. The impact you had on our family will never be forgotten.
Thank you, Anaconda.
I am not an Alice Cooper fan but the lyrics from his song ring true for me today. I ended my first full year as an English teacher today. It has been a great year where I saw God open doors and show me the way to a new adventure.
God opened the door for me to finish my Master’s degree by doing my student teaching half time and working half time at the same school. I taught English 12, Yearbook, Write the Novel, Reader’s Choice, Street Law, Economics and Personal Finance. Whew. What a learning experience!
Last night’s graduation was such an incredible blessing as the students who were in my classes hugged all of the teachers as they walked down the line shortly after getting their diploma. I’m so proud of each one because they worked hard to finish strong. Some of them
Even amongst the struggles of our community this year, these amazing young people put one foot in front of the other and kept moving. I know they will be world changers and it is such a blessing for me to have had them in my life.
I look forward to the next group of students who will cross my path. I will work with the 9th graders next year and I’m excited about these young minds coming to learn English from this “old” lady. I’ll also teach a goal setting class so I’ll have all grades in that class. It is an incredible pleasure to take my years of experience in business and life and share it with these moldable young people. It isn’t easy. But I think it is so worth it.
This is the first summer I’m not doing my Master’s program and I’m excited to have some soul searching time in my garden. I hope you are looking forward to some time with God and family this summer.
I’m glad to finally have more time to write here on my blog and in my journal. I look forward to a summer of writing. Let’s keep in touch!
Lyrics for Schools Out for the Summer!
Well we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Makin’ all that noise
‘Cause they found new toys
Well we can’t salute ya can’t find a flag
If that don’t suit ya that’s a drag
School’s out for summer
School’s out forever
School’s been blown to pieces
No more pencils no more books
No more teacher’s dirty looks yeah
Well we got no class
And we got no principals
And we got no innocence
We can’t even think of a word that rhymes
School’s out for summer
School’s out forever
My school’s been blown to pieces
No more pencils no more books
No more teacher’s dirty looks
Out for summer
Out till fall
We might not come back at all
School’s out forever
School’s out for summer
School’s out with fever
School’s out completely
Songwriters: ALICE COOPER / MICHAEL BRUCE / Dennis Dunaway / Glen Buxton / Neil SmithSchool’s Out (1986/Live In Detroit) lyrics © Ezra Music, Third Palm Music, Alive Enterprises, BMG GOLD SONGS OBO SIX PALMS MUSIC
I am a forever learner and I thoroughly enjoyed being back in school. Although it was an online class, it still felt good to be reading books, writing papers, and participating in class discussions.
I learned a great deal and I’m slowly trying to implement what I learned into my classroom. Now that student teaching is over, I’ve taken on two more classes of my own. I teach Economics/Personal Finance and Street Law in addition to Yearbook, Reader’s Choice, and English 12. FIVE PREPS! Am I crazy? Perhaps.
But I thoroughly enjoy teaching and feel I am participating in what God has called me to do. I love my students and it is an honor to be a part of their every day lives.
So many changes in my life these days. I’m learning a lot about myself. The mistakes I’ve made. The masks I’ve warn. The pain I’ve stuffed. The secrets I’ve kept. All of my students deal with these issues too. It has been my hope to help them live authentically as I try to do the same.
I listened to Brene Brown the other day and she reminded me that empathy will help kill shame. I’ve carried a lot of shame in my life. And those people who chose to be empathic and not judgmental have made the most impact on my healing journey. So I try to live an empathic life toward my students and toward those who come to me with their pain.
I’ve read the most amazing books in this season of my life, now that I have time to read for myself instead of text books. I hope to begin to blog about the books and how they have impacted me in this season of my life.
I hope you will join me on the journey to wholeness as we each move toward a life that is honorable. Even if our past is full of less than honorable seasons, God sees us as honorable and loves us anyway.
I want to be that kind of person toward everyone in my life. Even those who judge me or who have hurt me. What good is to to live otherwise?
Peace is my word for 2019. Let’s all seek peace with those who cross our paths. Even if we don’t agree with their opinion. Even if they aren’t that nice to us. But let it not be peace at any price. Let it be peace that comes from knowing who we are in Christ and not allowing anyone to treat us any differently than like the daughter of a KING.
May the peace of Christ be in your heart, soul, and mind every single day.
Gigi
]]>I have been radio silent for a while on this blog as I work on my Master’s Degree in Secondary Education. I also teach high school accounting and personal finance. I’ve done a lot of writing, just not here on the blog. Each week I write two discussion question responses and somethings two papers or I might create a PowerPoint presentation or lesson plan. Needless to say, my writing life has kept going, just down a different road.
I end my first year as a teacher next week and I’m glad I survived. I learned to never underestimate the time and energy it takes to teach our young people. The amazing gifts of the teachers I work with are poured out every day. I don’t know a teacher who only works school hours. Most will be taking classes this summer. I know I will. Many are up late grading papers, writing lesson plans or crafting some sort of unique project to make school more interesting.
Hats off to all teachers. I’ve always known this to be a difficult yet rewarding profession because I watched my mom care for her students with notes on their English papers to encourage them. I witnessed my sister Kathy tenderly care for the 4th graders she taught for over 30 years. My brother, Jack, retired last year from over 30 years teaching automotive technology at a college. While they retire from the career they love, I’m just getting started.
Why teach, you say? Because I’ve always felt called to share what I’ve learned in the years I’ve worked in the accounting profession. Over twenty years ago I wrote on a devotion in my Bible, “Is teaching for me, Lord?” Each time I’d come to that devotion, I’d write another note. “Perhaps teaching Bible?” “Maybe I’m supposed to teach by writing books?” “Lord, is this me?”
He answered with a resounding, “Yes, this is you,” when I was laid off from my job. I learned shortly thereafter that I qualify for a retraining program. I took a long shot and asked if I could retrain to be a teacher. I was accepted into the program and in June spring I started classes at Grand Canyon University. Then this part-time teaching job came to me and I’ve been able to put what I’m learning right to use in the classroom. So now I get to teach students how to take care of their own money and how to account for someone else’s books. I also get to teach English which I’m thrilled about. I’ll be student teaching English classes next fall. I feel like I’m following in my mom’s footsteps and that makes me smile.
I want to encourage you today. If you are at a crossroad in your career and want a change, it’s never too late. If you think you are too old, you aren’t. The world needs you. So ask the Lord, “Is this for me, Lord?” It is my hope and my prayer that you hear “Yes it is, my daughter.” or “Yes, it is, my son.” He is faithful and gives you the desires of your heart.
Bless you,
Gigi ]]>
Greetings Writing Friend,
I have not met a writer yet who didn’t say it took courage to put pen to paper and tell their story. After all, it is scary to wonder what your critique partners or best friends or potential readers will say about the piece of writing you share.
“If we had to say what writing is, we would have to define it essentially as an act of courage.” Cynthia Ozick
I remember creating a children’s book for my high school freshman English class. This teacher, Mr. Crnich, loved the red pen and always gave feedback on my work. I had a lot of fun writing my story of a sweet little bunny who permanently scarred his bunny ear when a rose thorn poked a hole in it. He had to learn to live with looking different. I loved my little story and it took great courage to turn it in. Especially because I don’t consider myself an artist and I illustrated it myself.
Had we not had that assignment, I may never have thought of myself as a storyteller. But the encouragement from Mr. Crnich gave me the courage to see myself as a writer.
Dictionary.com defines courage as “the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
I often think of the cowardly lion from The Wizard of Oz when I think about overcoming courage to write one of my stories. 
What did he do to gain the courage to approach The Wizard?
- He admitted he was scared.
- He surrounded himself with encouraging people.
- He used positive self-talk.
- He was afraid, but he did it anyway.
When I was writing my first book, Caregiver’s Devotions to Go, I was afraid. Did I really have thirty stories to tell? Would the editor like them? Would anyone read my book?
Here is what I did to get through to the end.
- I admitted I was scared. I asked for prayer to help with my fear.
- I met weekly with my friend and mentor, Cheryl Penn, and we talked about devotional ideas. I read her the stories and she helped me polish the prose.
- I reminded myself that my stories matter and sharing them would help others.
- When I wanted to quit, I pressed on and wrote anyway.
Just today, I received a note in the mail from a reader.
Dear Gigi:
I love your book, Caregiver’s Devotional to Go: The Women’s Devotions to Go Series.
Please send me one more. I hope this money is enough. I saw you at Philipsburg, Montana where I bought three at the After Five group. My mom, Frances Glynn, Carol Bowen and I all love the book.
It’s the best spiritual book I’ve ever read and I’ve never been much of a reader. Carol has read it several times.
I don’t have internet so that is why I’m writing you.
With Love, Thank you, Sandra R. Matesich.
If you are looking for courage in your writing, let me know and I will pray with you. I’d like to suggest a book that might help. It is called. The Courage to Write [How Writers Transcend Fear] by Ralph Keyes – author of The Writer’s Book of Hope.
May God Bless you with the courage to write that next sentence.
Bless you
Gigi Devine Murfitt
www.GigiMurfitt.com
My husband, Steve, met Rod and his twin brother, Randy at an athletic supply store in 1992. They entered the store in their huge six-hundred-pound wheelchairs in search of softball uniforms for the women’s team they coached.
We had just received our then two-year-old son Gabe’s wheelchair. There was an instant connection about the dealing with disability. But that connection became so much more than a commonality about wheelchairs.
A few weeks later as we were loading Gabe’s chair in our van, a big red van pulled into our church parking lot. Rod and Randy rolled out.
We discovered another connection in that we all attended the same church. Our faith in Jesus drew us even closer. We shared Bible study with Rod and Randy for many years.
Our family has spent a lot of time with Rod, Randy and the whole amazing Halvorson family.
We learned there is a way when there seems to be no way. It may just look differently than expected.We learned how to make the best of the situation we were given.
We have HOPE because we watched Rod and Randy live a full life even when day by day they lost more function in their body.
Rod lived most of his life with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and it was liver cancer that took him home.
But, we believe that Rod is home with Jesus in a brand new body. And I know Steve and our boys can’t wait to have a slam dunk contest when we all meet him there.
Steve and Rod December 2016
We are so grateful for the friendship of the Halvorson family and the lessons we have learned along the way.
Today, when you think about complaining. DON’T!
How about starting this week with an attitude of gratitude instead.
I think you’ll find that gratitude takes you much further than complaining ever will. I am grateful Rod Halvorson taught me that lesson.
My challenge to you this week – What are you grateful for?
Blessings on your week,
Gigi
My Gratitude Journal is a wonderful way to track those gratitude thoughts each day. It is available on Amazon or at www.DochasPublications.com
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This season can be crazy at times. Although there is much joy in seeing friends and family, for some, this is a difficult season.
The news around the world brings little hope for peace.
The crazy weather brings little hope for warmth and safety.
However you feel today, I want to bring you a little HOPE.
Our nonprofit organization is Gabriel’s Foundation of HOPE. For the past nine years since we started our 501(c)3, I have collected HOPE ornaments.
Today I’ll share some photos of my new HOPE tree.
I had so many ornaments that the tree I had last year fell over. I’ve been looking for the perfect tree for my office where I can share my HOPE ornaments year round.
I found just the tree and I am delighted with how it carries these meaningful ornaments.
HOPE Tree 2016
HOPE has been a theme in my heart these days as I’ve been reading one of my favorite books by Ron Mehl titled Love Found a Way. It was written in 1999 as a collection of Christmas stories. I love to read it each year. Pastor Ron died in 2003 after a long battle with leukemia, but his books will speak his message for many years.
He reminded me that HOPE is a Christmas word because Christ came to bring us HOPE.
We think of the word in many different ways.
My granddaughter Avery hopes she gets a volcano for Christmas.
As many people travel, they hope for safe flights and clear roads.
Young moms hope for some sleep.
The unemployed hope for a job.
As school wound down last week, teachers told students they hoped they would have a great vacation.
But I think the HOPE that Jesus brought isn’t such a watered down version of that wonderful word.
I love how Ron Mehl puts it in his Love Finds a Way book,
“No, the Bible’s brand of hope is very different. This is hope shot through with confidence. This is hope so muscular it can pull you out of a deep pit. This is hope so powerful it can anchor your life–keeping you secure in the highest waves and strongest storms. This is hope stronger than death–a hope upon which you’d state your life…and your eternity.”
Why is this hope so strong? It is because of the object of our hope. This isn’t hoped just for hope’s sake. It is hope fixed on the Almighty Lord who loves each of us as his own precious child.
Hope Ornaments 2016
Hope is what connects us to God and to heaven.
Hope tells us that no matter our situation, we can rest in the hands of a sovereign God who loves us very much.
More HOPE Ornaments 2016
I love how David puts it in Psalm 62:5-6
“Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. he alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.”
Maybe today you are not feeling so hopeful. It is my prayer that you will find the hope that found a way to completely change my life.
In my next blog post, I’ll be sharing some of the reasons I put my HOPE in Him.
Until then, be blessed knowing I think of you and pray for you often.
Gigi
My books are available at www.DochasPublications.com You can use the code HOPE to get a $5 discount off the $14.95 price of my FAITH, HOPE, LOVE journals.
I was reflecting on the giving tree at our church and smiling to think of the families who will get a gift for Christmas because of someone else’s giving heart.
It always brings me back to the story of the blessing my family received the year my dad died. That was fifty-one years ago and the gift keeps on giving in the hearts of our family members.
I share this with you to bless you as you prepare for this Christmas season. The article was on the front page of the Montana Standard and the Anaconda Leader in 2006, my Mom’s last Christmas on earth. What a blessing it was for me to give her the memory of that story when her memory was fading day by day because of dementia.
Story lives. Story gives.
A Devine Christmas Thank You
Thanks to a loving community, the harsh reality of cancer was forgotten for our family during Christmas 1965.
Over Thanksgiving weekend, lung cancer had stolen away our beloved dad, Bob Devine. Mom’s first words after he died were “Now what are we going to do?” With medical bills exceeding $10,000 and a bank account wiped out, she feared the worst.
At age 44, although she had overcome the challenges of a high school injury that left her crippled, Mom had no idea how to deal with the reality of her life as a widow with 10 children. The situation looked grim as Christmas day closed in.
My teenage siblings pitched in to make the season feel somewhat normal. They cut down a fresh tree and dragged the boxes of decorations from the basement.
Dad loved to watch his 10 children scramble for their favorite ornament and carefully place it on the branches of the evergreen. Jim and Jack, the 15-year-old twins, lifted 4-year-old Patti on their shoulders placing the angel on top of the 10-foot pine, something Dad used to do. Christmas would be different without him, but this one would be remembered for the rest of our lives.
Imagine the mystery and surprise when each day Christmas angels emptied their pocketbooks to fill a deep void left in our hearts. They filled our front and back porches with Christmas love. There were sacks of potatoes, bags of flour and sugar, apples and oranges, boxes of cereal, turkeys, hams and roasts. One egg carton arrived with a $100 bill tucked neatly inside. Wrapped gift boxes marked “boy” or “girl” were quickly hidden to save the Christmas morning surprise for the kids who still believed in Santa.
Although she claimed not to believe in Santa, 13-year-old Kathy was forced to say “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” as she watched us trip over the packages on Christmas morning. Yet, Santa was not a singular noun, like our English teacher mom had taught us. Santa was an entire community, dear sweet Anaconda.
We were overwhelmed by clothes and coats; a train, a race car set; Monopoly and Mouse Trap games, dolls with beautiful dresses, ice skates, sleds and skis. The most overwhelming thing was the look on mom’s face as she watched her cherished 10 squeal with delight at the surprises.
Mom would not have been able to buy any toys this year, just a month after losing dad. At a time when her future was uncertain and worry caused sleepless nights, loving friends and strangers gave her something to smile about.
To this day, we do not know the names of the Christmas angels who blessed us in 1965. No one ever came forward to take credit. God knows who was responsible for this incredible blessing that lives on in our hearts.
This gift of love has motivated me to help needy families in my community. One year we witnessed the excited smiles as we delivered food and wrapped gifts to a Romanian family with 13 children. Christmas 1965 came alive in my heart that day.
Severe dementia has stolen mom’s ability to tell this story herself, but for years it was a favorite told to her family. As she lives her remaining years in a nursing home, I am telling the story for her.
May the blessing of Christmas live long in your hearts as you choose to pass it on to those in need. The impact you had on our family will never be forgotten.
Thank you, Anaconda.
— Gigi Devine Murfitt is a freelance writer living in Woodinville, Wash., with her husband, Steve, and sons, Zane and Gabe. She and her husband have recently established Gabriel’s Foundation of Hope, a non-profit organization serving families who deal with a disabled family member.
It IS better to give than to receive.
And it is so much fun to watch others receive that unexpected surprise.
I share with you a video I found on YouTube of what JCPenney did to several random customers to make their Christmas special. They gave the opportunity for customers to give and for others to receive.
My hope is to inspire you to give. If you’d like to help our church with the Giving Tree, click the link and find out more.
Bless you with a giving heart.
Gigi