Only a quarter of a mile into our homeschooling journey, I have been amazed to see the ways God has chosen to use it to teach me.
I used to joke that God was calling me to homeschooling for me, and hopefully my kids would get an education along the way. The statement is so true.
So here are a few nuggets I’ve gleaned so far:
I have learned that I am lazy. Well, I already knew this, but it confirmed the pretty obvious suspicion. If left to my own devices, I will stay in my pajamas…for days. I will lounge and drink coffee and ask Natalie to get things for Peter so I don’t have to get off the couch. (Can you relate? Maybe not. Maybe it’s just me.)
I have learned that when it comes to hard things, I am not interested. I don’t want to learn anything new that takes more than a little effort. The way that I see my daughter stubbornly cross her arms and say “I can’t do this” after one failed attempt – yeah, I see myself in that. I get it. Hard things are just well, hard. And I prefer easy.
I have learned that I am impatient, and need time for my coffee to kick in before I attempt to accomplish pretty much anything involving other people.
(so true, right?!)
I have learned that I am fearful of the unknown, intimidated by the expectations I place on myself and perceive others’ placing on me, and that I struggle a lot with trusting God, His timing, and His plans.
Sounds really delightful, right? All the things that inspire and motivate hoards to go run after the next challenging thing they sense God calling them to do.
BUT…
I have also learned that despite all these less-than-desirable qualities that I now own about myself (which used to be the very things that kept me from committing to homeschooling in the first place), God didn’t stop here.
God has continued to speak and reveal. He doesn’t choose to show me the ways that I fall short and just leave it at that. He doesn’t work that way. I don’t know why I so often anticipate that is where the story ends (Surprise, surprise. Jenny couldn’t cut it. The End.), but I do.
God continued to speak.
He showed me my laziness, but then He showed me His faithfulness. He called me to join Him in this new process, and those He calls, He equips. Because He calls, I get up in the morning. I may still be in my pajamas, but I pull my hair back and I drink that cup of coffee (and pray, don’t forget prayer), and I start my day. And I cling to the promise that He will give me what I need. And that gives me hope.
And in that same day, He shows me the very fears I so often push back or distract away -those thoughts that tell me that I am ridiculous for thinking that I can teach my kids at home, that they will have what they need in order to succeed, and that maybe God didn’t actually call me to this. And instead of shame, God brings them into the light, where we can talk about it. Deal with it. Wrestle through and climb over.
I literally had to fight back irritation and the knee-jerk reaction today to just stop and say ‘forget this. I’m not going to do it.’ And then my next thought being, ‘Really, am I still here? Am I still at the point where at any given second I can drop the whole thing? Why yes, yes I am.’ (a little inside peek into the conversations that go on in my head, because frankly, there are just no other adults around most days. So I gotta talk to someone.)
And then the next breath, the Holy Spirit enabled me to pray and say, ‘Lord, because You said this is the way, I’m going to keep going. I don’t understand. I don’t see it. I don’t have any idea of how this is gonna look – along the way or where we are going. But I’m going to follow You.’
And even in this, He showed me that He is there. His Presence equips and enables me to continue. He is Hope.
And that despite the fact that all these fears and doubts are still here, there is something new going on. I am learning what it means to trust, to not just to ask what trust is or how to trust. My usual tactic is to (1) identify, then (2) define, and then (3) attempt to fully understand a thing to make sure that boat is going to float before I get into it, and then possibly (4) taking swim lessons in case something goes wrong (my Plan B’s have their own plan b’s).
But now I am actually stepping into the thing.
Because trust is NOT about knowing that it’s going to work out the way I think it should, or waiting until circumstances change or my current emotional state subsides. It’s not about knowing that I haven’t completely gotten it wrong and misunderstood.
But trust is saying that despite myself – despite all the less-than-desirables that I have just learned and confirmed about myself – that God loves me, that He has promises for me and my family that He will fulfill, and that He is in control.
Trust is saying I don’t have to know.
I don’t have to know.
(Selah.)
I am also learning that He has been and will always be the Way Maker.
He provided a way when there was no visible way for me to be home full-time with my babies, and He has continued to make a way through the wilderness of infancy & toddlerhood, through the droughts of sleeplessness and showerlessness (because a shower is like a oasis in the desert – sometimes you run across one, and sometimes you just dream of one, someday), and to rivers of new peace and joy hidden in the middle of raging rapids and muddy messes.
He has been faithful to provide the way, take my hand, and lead me at His pace – sometimes slowly, when I would so wish we would run to just get through it all – and sometimes faster than I would have liked.
“Lord, can’t I just stick my toes in and slowly let my body get used to the temperature of the water?”
“Nope, we’re going all in, today.”
Through it all, He has provided what we need. His provision has taken on different forms, just as different terrains require different supplies, but through it all, He has been there.
His Name is Faithful.
I have also learned that if I will push past some of these less-than-desirables about myself, there is joy on the other side.
Here are a few of the joy lessons:
I actually like doing crafts. (jaw dropping for those that know me) I still don’t like to gather all the supplies or clean up the messes, but I really enjoy the doing. And so I’m willing to do what is required in order to appreciate the moments of creating with my kids, and the keepsakes at the end of it.
I can be flexible. (again, another gasp) I can start out with a plan – a wonderful, glorious, structured, color-coded plan, and I can veer off if a child is cranky or the mess happens or they decide they want to spend the whole amount of time for the entire 5-step task on just step 1. I have survived. I have seen the Holy Spirit direct us to conversations that I couldn’t in my best attempts have put into the lesson plans.
And more than anything, I have seen myself stop and take in the moments. I have started to see that it’s in the middle of the really hard days – sandwiched between the worst morning ever and the afternoon that wouldn’t end – that there are these priceless gems that I am given with my kids that I would have missed if I had thrown my hands up in the air and gone back to bed (which is what my body always wants to do). I would have missed them.
So in all of this, I’m going to, by the Lord’s strength, do what is required – trudge through the messy and chaotic and cranky and less-than-ideal – in order to take hold of the sweet, joyful moments that are found in the midst of this journey.
It’s gonna be a long, crazy ride, but I’m really looking forward to it.
What Homeschooling Is Teaching Me
JennyOnly a quarter of a mile into our homeschooling journey, I have been amazed to see the ways God has chosen to use it to teach me.
I used to joke that God was calling me to homeschooling for me, and hopefully my kids would get an education along the way. The statement is so true.
So here are a few nuggets I’ve gleaned so far:
I have learned that I am lazy. Well, I already knew this, but it confirmed the pretty obvious suspicion. If left to my own devices, I will stay in my pajamas…for days. I will lounge and drink coffee and ask Natalie to get things for Peter so I don’t have to get off the couch. (Can you relate? Maybe not. Maybe it’s just me.)
I have learned that when it comes to hard things, I am not interested. I don’t want to learn anything new that takes more than a little effort. The way that I see my daughter stubbornly cross her arms and say “I can’t do this” after one failed attempt – yeah, I see myself in that. I get it. Hard things are just well, hard. And I prefer easy.
I have learned that I am impatient, and need time for my coffee to kick in before I attempt to accomplish pretty much anything involving other people.
I have learned that I am fearful of the unknown, intimidated by the expectations I place on myself and perceive others’ placing on me, and that I struggle a lot with trusting God, His timing, and His plans.
Sounds really delightful, right? All the things that inspire and motivate hoards to go run after the next challenging thing they sense God calling them to do.
BUT…
I have also learned that despite all these less-than-desirable qualities that I now own about myself (which used to be the very things that kept me from committing to homeschooling in the first place), God didn’t stop here.
God has continued to speak and reveal. He doesn’t choose to show me the ways that I fall short and just leave it at that. He doesn’t work that way. I don’t know why I so often anticipate that is where the story ends (Surprise, surprise. Jenny couldn’t cut it. The End.), but I do.
God continued to speak.
He showed me my laziness, but then He showed me His faithfulness. He called me to join Him in this new process, and those He calls, He equips. Because He calls, I get up in the morning. I may still be in my pajamas, but I pull my hair back and I drink that cup of coffee (and pray, don’t forget prayer), and I start my day. And I cling to the promise that He will give me what I need. And that gives me hope.
And in that same day, He shows me the very fears I so often push back or distract away -those thoughts that tell me that I am ridiculous for thinking that I can teach my kids at home, that they will have what they need in order to succeed, and that maybe God didn’t actually call me to this. And instead of shame, God brings them into the light, where we can talk about it. Deal with it. Wrestle through and climb over.
I literally had to fight back irritation and the knee-jerk reaction today to just stop and say ‘forget this. I’m not going to do it.’ And then my next thought being, ‘Really, am I still here? Am I still at the point where at any given second I can drop the whole thing? Why yes, yes I am.’ (a little inside peek into the conversations that go on in my head, because frankly, there are just no other adults around most days. So I gotta talk to someone.)
And then the next breath, the Holy Spirit enabled me to pray and say, ‘Lord, because You said this is the way, I’m going to keep going. I don’t understand. I don’t see it. I don’t have any idea of how this is gonna look – along the way or where we are going. But I’m going to follow You.’
And even in this, He showed me that He is there. His Presence equips and enables me to continue. He is Hope.
And that despite the fact that all these fears and doubts are still here, there is something new going on. I am learning what it means to trust, to not just to ask what trust is or how to trust. My usual tactic is to (1) identify, then (2) define, and then (3) attempt to fully understand a thing to make sure that boat is going to float before I get into it, and then possibly (4) taking swim lessons in case something goes wrong (my Plan B’s have their own plan b’s).
But now I am actually stepping into the thing.
Because trust is NOT about knowing that it’s going to work out the way I think it should, or waiting until circumstances change or my current emotional state subsides. It’s not about knowing that I haven’t completely gotten it wrong and misunderstood.
But trust is saying that despite myself – despite all the less-than-desirables that I have just learned and confirmed about myself – that God loves me, that He has promises for me and my family that He will fulfill, and that He is in control.
Trust is saying I don’t have to know.
I don’t have to know.
(Selah.)
I am also learning that He has been and will always be the Way Maker.
He provided a way when there was no visible way for me to be home full-time with my babies, and He has continued to make a way through the wilderness of infancy & toddlerhood, through the droughts of sleeplessness and showerlessness (because a shower is like a oasis in the desert – sometimes you run across one, and sometimes you just dream of one, someday), and to rivers of new peace and joy hidden in the middle of raging rapids and muddy messes.
He has been faithful to provide the way, take my hand, and lead me at His pace – sometimes slowly, when I would so wish we would run to just get through it all – and sometimes faster than I would have liked.
“Lord, can’t I just stick my toes in and slowly let my body get used to the temperature of the water?”
“Nope, we’re going all in, today.”
Through it all, He has provided what we need. His provision has taken on different forms, just as different terrains require different supplies, but through it all, He has been there.
His Name is Faithful.
I have also learned that if I will push past some of these less-than-desirables about myself, there is joy on the other side.
Here are a few of the joy lessons:
I actually like doing crafts. (jaw dropping for those that know me) I still don’t like to gather all the supplies or clean up the messes, but I really enjoy the doing. And so I’m willing to do what is required in order to appreciate the moments of creating with my kids, and the keepsakes at the end of it.
I can be flexible. (again, another gasp) I can start out with a plan – a wonderful, glorious, structured, color-coded plan, and I can veer off if a child is cranky or the mess happens or they decide they want to spend the whole amount of time for the entire 5-step task on just step 1. I have survived. I have seen the Holy Spirit direct us to conversations that I couldn’t in my best attempts have put into the lesson plans.
And more than anything, I have seen myself stop and take in the moments. I have started to see that it’s in the middle of the really hard days – sandwiched between the worst morning ever and the afternoon that wouldn’t end – that there are these priceless gems that I am given with my kids that I would have missed if I had thrown my hands up in the air and gone back to bed (which is what my body always wants to do). I would have missed them.
So in all of this, I’m going to, by the Lord’s strength, do what is required – trudge through the messy and chaotic and cranky and less-than-ideal – in order to take hold of the sweet, joyful moments that are found in the midst of this journey.
It’s gonna be a long, crazy ride, but I’m really looking forward to it.