Bending Without Breaking

"For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Many changes have happened in our little family between the beginning of December and today. There have been ups and downs, smiles and tears, prayers and pleas, and many, many discussions between my husband and me.

It is no secret that I have struggled with depression. I am a bit introspective and have been told at various points in my life that my river runs a little bit deeper than most. There have been times when I have come close to drowning in my own river. I am also more introverted than I ever thought myself to be, and I am recharged by time to myself, quietly reading and drinking coffee or even doing housework with my ipod plugged in. These are not all of the reasons we have decided to change, but they do play into it.

My husband and I took a large step back and began to talk about our family and the things we have learned and whether it was wise for us to continue down the road of home educating. We decided that for us, it was not. It was an excruciating decision for us to come to because I had begun to think very narrowly that I had found "the right way" to raise my children, and for his part, he really loved what we were doing, though he had not fallen into the narrow pattern that I had.

I thought if I just persevered that on the other end of this journey there would be a strong young man who cared for his family and worked hard and chose a wife who would stay home and raise godly offspring. I thought if I continued that my own daughter would choose the same path and follow in my footsteps some day, schooling her own children and raising them to do the same. And there may have been. But I no longer think that it is my job to tell them what they have to be, but to raise them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord and do my best to teach them to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit and His leading. And Lord willing, they will still turn out to be godly people because of our Savior's amazing grace. And they will be free to follow the Lord where He would lead, even if that means they do not choose to live the life that I have lived.

I look back on my own life and the huge mistakes I made, and I realize how God's grace is the primary factor in where I am today, even the ugly parts. I think I may have begun to discount that grace in the lives of my own children and feel that it was my job to control all aspects. I did not realize that I had begun to follow a path that was narrower than the narrow way that Christ asks us to follow. It is only in retrospect that I can see that I added to the gospel.

I do not say these things to say that home educating is wrong or that I regret it. I will never regret the year that my children were with me almost every minute of the day. I learned so much about myself and about them during that cherished time. I view my role as a parent differently and in a more serious light than I ever did before. I truly believe that God led us into that season and that He has led us out of it. I believe that He convicts some people to persevere and follow through and that they are following Him in doing so. I remain supportive of home education because I know the value that lies in it.

I have realized that no one can ever have it all. As Emerson's quote at the top of this post states, there is a sacrifice for every choice we make. And we have chosen a different road than the one we were on. We have not handed over the reigns of their rearing to the schools they will be attending, but we do realize that they will spend less time within our sphere of influence and that this will change our family dynamics. But my hope and prayer is that our time together will be even sweeter for the time that we spend apart.

May God bless the changes that we all go through as we endeavor to move in His ways. He has allowed us so much freedom and for that I am thankful. May I never forget that the grace that is so present in my life is also present in the lives of my children. And may I never forget that any "gospel" that tells me that I cannot rest until I have done things a certain way is not THE gospel. I have begun a habit of running things through the grid of Jesus's words. If the interpretation of scripture does not line up with what He taught then it is the wrong interpretation.

Jesus did not tell me that I could not rest until I lived up to a certain standard. He said, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28, emphasis mine). It is in those very words that I rest today and will rest this week as I give up the honored title of "homeschooling mom" and return to "just a mom". May we all find His rest to be balm for our weary souls.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Clean

In my mind, as a child, Christmas meant perfection. It meant that the world stopped, Mom cooked, I spent days smelling fresh pine and watching lights twinkle in the tree and anticipating the gifts to be unwrapped on Christmas morning. It meant that all was well and no one was hurting.

When I was first married, Christmas meant a lot of nesting, decorating, cooking and exhaustion. I wanted the house to look like something out of Pottery Barn or Martha Stewart Living, neither of which is bad, but we didn't have the budget to make that happen.

Now, Christmas still means a lot of hard work, but it means so much more. Pain and suffering continue at Christmas for many. While we focus on being jolly and eating great food tomorrow, two women in my church are suffering from cancer -- one is recurring breast cancer and one is colon cancer that has spread rapidly. My own heart continues to break from depression that does not seem to want to lift. People around the world are still oppressed, children still hungry, babies still aborted.

So, if the world goes on at Christmas, are we pretending by making all this merry? I don't think so, unless we are only in it for the gifts. As I scrubbed the blinds on the window over my kitchen sink last week, I pondered deeply why I only do things like scrubbing blinds at Christmas. There are certain types of deep cleaning that I reserve for the holidays. Why not other times of the year? I watched the dingy gray collection of dust from the year come away as I used Clorox Clean-Up and hot water with vinegar. I watched the patches of white appear in contrast to the dirty slats that I had not yet attacked, and I knew I would be scrubbing the same filth off again in a year. And yet I feel the need to prepare my home for the celebration of the Christ child. I thought about my heart.

My heart is so like those blinds. I know it is a dark and sinful place. I work very hard to clean it up but no matter how hard I work, the same dingy filth comes back. I can't keep it off, no matter how hard my best efforts are. I need someone else to clean it for me. Let every heart prepare Him room. I want to prepare Him room, but I need His help to even begin. Tomorrow, as my children rip into their presents, I will remember why the church took this pagan time and claimed it as it's own. This celebration that has been so convoluted, not by the fairy tale of Santa, but by the desire for the world in my own doubting heart, is about my need for a Savior.

Here is a poem that my mentor shared with me. It sums up, I think, the point of joy on Christmas:

God Sent us a Savior!

(author unknown)

If our greatest need had been information

God would have sent us an educator.

If our greatest need had been technology

God would have sent us a scientist.

If our greatest need had been money

God would have sent us an economist.

If our greatest need had been pleasure

God would have sent us an entertainer.

But our greatest need was forgiveness

So God sent us a Savior.

Thomas recognizes Jesus after seeing His scars.

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

I owe her one...

I am about a month late on this one, but I wanted to do it anywayand I wanted to do it BEFORE Christmas! I owe it to her. Addie has turned 5 on us. I have commanded her to stop growing, to slow down, but she continues to disobey me. The morning of her birthday, her daddy went out to pick up donuts (her request) and I was holding her. She said, "Mom, I'm growing so fast that I'm going to college tomorrow! But don't worry, you can come with me and drop me off!" I almost cried. I don't normally get terribly sentimental but some days, it really does feel like she's growing that fast. So, although I'm late, I wanted to log down the day... Here it is in pictures:

We let her open one gift from us at breakfast while it was just the family. It was a new robe and slippers, which she LOVED and which she wore to her party because she wanted to show it off.

The cake. My mom saved the old Minnie Mouse pan that she had when we were kids. She came over the night before to help me ice it. Addie was quick to point out that I got the skin tone too dark. Pardon me for being a little heavy-handed with the copper food coloring! :)

Here she is, in the throes of the joy of opening presents. There were many, my favorite of which was the dollhouse that my parents gave her. I will be living vicariously through her as she plays with it!

Before the cake, and note the change of outfit. This outfit was one of her gifts and she had to stop everything and go change into it! Next to her is my sweet niece and her favorite cousin.

When all was over. She was exhausted and changed into pj's while we cleaned up. Then, she and Carter watched a movie together. It was a great day.

Happy birthday, sweet Ladybird!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Fall Fun

I've been brooding over some serious thoughts but before I do anything else serious, I'd like to share some of the fun we've had around here. Some days, you just have to cut loose, and last week we had one of those cut loose days. After school and chores were finished, I told the kids to go outside and get as muddy as they wanted to. It had been drizzling for days and they had not gotten to play outside. They followed the instructions to get muddy by grabbing the hose and wetting down the fallow garden patch, then digging "tunnels". Here are the results...

Have you ever seen two kids so tickled with their own mess?

A little bit of science... Carter found several roly pollies in the mud. He was thrilled with them.

My two monsters...

The piece de resistance... This is only a mild shot of the filth that they gathered. Thank the Lord for washing machines!

Daniel helped the kids make Indian hats to wear to the homeschool Thanksgiving banquet (put on by a few other moms and me). Then, he took them outside for an experiment. They dipped a rag in a solution of half alcohol half water, and lit it. It burns without burning up. This is the way torches were used in caves.

A happy Addie in her Indian hat with the flaming rag nearby. You can't really see the flames in this picture, but I assure you that it is on fire.

Carter wearing his Indian headband and holding a hose nearby in case of an emergency.

Addie prepared for the feast in a dress that my mom made for me when I was little. She makes a great Indian princess, does she not?

Carter and Addie enjoy the feast.

We have been looking forward to the cooler weather that sets in this time of year, but fluctuates back and forth with warm spells until about December.

Addie hoping for cold, cold weather soon!

Carter and Addie enjoying one of the first fires of the season.

We do one or two chores a day. The picture below shows Addie preparing to help vacuum. She hates the noise of the vacuum cleaner so she always puts on her daddy's protective earmuffs before this chore. I always get such a kick out of it!

I guess that's all for now. It's a joy to watch my children grow, understand the world around them, and play together. The friendship blossoming between them has deepened since we brought them home from school and for that I am grateful. I hope to have more fun things to share soon!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Sick

That all-too-familiar sensation in my stomach that feels like I am in a sick free-fall.

The thought processes that convince me that I am guilty, guilty, guilty and a failure.

The nonstop tears and inability to put my feet on the floor in the mornings.

The slowed-down processes of my body that take symptoms from emotional and mental to physical.

They came back.

After months of fighting to stay off of meds, I finally reached a conclusion.

I am sick.

Lord, I thought I had victory...

You do, although it may not look that way. Victory doesn't always take the form we expect. It often takes the form of surrender.

I surrender, and swallow the first pill, and oh, what a bitter pill it is!

A few months back I wrote coming off of anti-depressants. I truly thought I was stronger, truly thought I was "over it". When I went on them, I felt abnormal, felt like I was crazy. I believed I couldn't discuss it without apologizing for it, because so many people out there use depression as an excuse for all sorts of bad choices or selfishness. In the years that I was taking the medicine, I heard a lot of valid theological points about sin issues and counseling. I heard that I should exercise more, pay better attention to what I eat. So, I did... I thought I needed counseling, though the issues were small, so I tried a bit of that and even though the counselor was good and smart and very likeable, I found that I was talking circles and didn't feel that I was finding an "issue" at the heart of the matter. It had to be something I was doing wrong and could fix, didn't it?

And then, I fell ill. Literally, the way someone catches the flu, the depression was back. There had been some days when I was down, but I had had clarity and was able to set myself back on track. This was different. My body would not function (I won't go into description, but physical processes were all thrown off). I could not put my feet on the floor, couldn't stop crying. Right at first, I thought I had bitten off more than I could chew with homeschooling but in my heart, I did not want to send the kids back to school. No, it's not an evil place or that school is not good enough, but that we made this choice with conviction and for a reason, and I have grown to love being with my children. To think of the masses of hours that they would be away from me just made me even more sick. I worried. I felt guilty for everything, even things that had nothing to do with me. I believed I was unfit. One terrible part was the effect music had on me. I grew up with violin and piano lessons, and was always singing. I love to sing. But every time I opened my mouth to even attempt to sing, tears just fell and I could barely breathe.

But the very worst part was the apathy and numbness I felt toward those I love the most. It wasn't negative emotion or resentment. There was just a huge void of anything. And that terrified me.

Praise God for a doctor who attends church with me, has known me for years and knows me outside of her practice as well.

Praise God for medicine. This is a huge statement for me because I tried so hard to get away from medicine, thinking of it as something that should be a last resort, something I should not need, some sort of dirty crutch. And yet God brought me to the place of praising him for this common grace in the form of a pill. The pill has not healed me but it has allowed me to stop and think and focus. It has allowed this heavy veil of darkest black to lift from my consciousness so that I can see the light of day for the joyous thing that it is.

Some people don't need the meds. I guess I do. I hate being weak, but I have been humbled and reminded that I am not my own and I am not strong enough to beat anything on my own. It is only with Him that I can stand to swallow the necessary medicine and see how weak I am, and it is only with Him that I can see worth in myself.

This morning, I read these incredible words, and then I read them three more times. I wept over them, thanked God for them, and struggled through the joys and fears of another day...

"for whenever our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything." 1 John 3:20

Monday, November 1, 2010

Washing Tiny Feet

***A note: Today is Monday, May 2, 2011. I am reading through old entries and changing from the nicknames of the family back to the real names. I wanted to add to this blog that I now realize that all of the things I said I would have missed out on had I not homeschooled, I am not missing out on now that we're not homeschooling. There's not as much time for it all, but we somehow find a way to still do the important things. It is so sweet to be a family under God's grace.

I guess I understand to an extent when people tell me they "could never do it". Homeschool, I mean. I used to say it too. There were many reasons why I thought I couldn't and some days, I still think I can't. There is insecurity, cultural assumption, the need for a moment of quiet, the question of what to teach and how. I could build a road out of the many reasons I have been told (and have told myself about myself) that someone could never homeschool. I know people don't mean it ugly, at least most don't. But there is something in my heart that feels a little sad when it is said. It's a valid lifestyle, a sound educational opportunity. Not everyone has to do it but I do wish that those who are so opposed would learn to say a quiet "good for you" and move on, much the same way I have learned to respond on issues with the children of others that do not concern me.

Anyway, part of the reason I get sad is that I think of what all I would be missing out on if I weren't schooling my children at this time and in this season of life we're all in. I would miss out on giggles, morning devotions (we never had time for this when they were in school), discussions around the table about myriads of different things, puppets with my little one, reading about how the human body is fearfully and wonderfully made with my older child, the chance to teach history from a Christian perspective (as in -- the Bible is not just stories, but a valid part of the timeline), nighttime fun because school work is finished and put away, teaching them to crack eggs, learning one hymn a week.

Today, I found one of my favorite things. Washing their feet. Yes. You read me right. I love washing their feet. They played outside while I was changing the sheets on a loft bed. I looked out the window and saw them playing together under the swing set, digging away in the dirt. I rolled my eyes, dreading the mess. I let them finish, called them in, and they sat on the edge of the tub with their feet in the bubble bath. There were giggles, there was fun, and I was down on my knees washing the feet of those I hold most dear -- more giggles, it tickles! And really, that's what it's all about. For me, anyway...

Lord, forgive me for rolling my eyes and dreading the mess. May I wash their feet as Mary washed yours and show to those visible in my life the love you have shown to me and the love that I want to show to a God who is invisible.

Bending Without Breaking

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

A New Page Quietly Turns

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Change