It was a cold Colorado morning in January. The year had just turned over, it was 2014. My one year old baby boy and soon-to-be three year old daughter were sound asleep in their rooms. As I reveled in this quiet moment, watching the snow gently fall out my window, comforted by the warm fire in hearth and cup of coffee in my hand, I pondered what lay ahead in this New Year. My January baby was just about to turn three and I was starting to process the idea that she was approaching “preschool age”. Could I really consider enrolling her in school in the fall?!
At the time, my days were full of the mundane moments of motherhood, and I treasured them dearly. When I say mundane I do mean ordinary. Yes, it was the same thing day after day. My days were overflowing with tasks, my trash was overflowing with diapers, and the sink overflowing with dishes, yet, my heart was overflowing with love. Tasks and diapers and dishes are mundane, but love is never mundane. We love day in and day out, yet never feel ourselves tire of loving. We may tire of giving, but never of love. Love is a fire that cannot be quenched. Love never fails (1 Cor. 13:8). Love is a mother’s super power. Love is what makes the mundane marvelous, the tedious comforting, the challenges inspiring, the exhaustion life-giving, and the difficult worthwhile.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Cor 13:13)
The days may be long, but the years are indeed short. Were my days about to change as my baby was becoming school aged? Was that really something I wanted? I was right in the midst of motherhood, and I found myself not wanting to miss a moment. These were the days I had prayed for, for so long. They were harder than I ever imagined but they were also more rewarding. I found myself finally here, right in the throes of motherhood, and I loved my job! Please do not get me wrong… I am just like you. Yes, I love my kids! But that doesn’t mean I don’t also need to get away and breathe sometimes. That doesn’t make me love them any less. Rather, it is the time we take to breathe, that equips us for the work we have been called to do. We must put on our own oxygen mask first, and then our children’s. I hope to post more on this soon…
As I was saying, I loved my job! Was I really about to turn my job, as her teacher, over to someone else? I had been teaching my children since they were born, and it had been such an honor and privilege. I had discovered over the past three years how much I enjoyed teaching them. There were even days I felt I was good at it. I helped them to crawl and to a walk, to identify colors and to count. They knew bible verses and bible stories. They could sing the ABC song and mimic animal sounds (impressive I know). We had read countless books and followed endless rabbit trails, as I simply followed their interests. We were learning where we lived and living where we learned. It came so naturally. Was it possible that I could also be there the day she read her first word or her first book? Wrote her first essay? Memorized her multiplication tables? I found myself questioning if learning and living should be divided, especially at such a young age.
This was a season in my life where God was opening my eyes to the scripture “do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Rom 12:2, NASB). I found myself questioning the patterns of the world that, in the past, I had tended to accept so readily without much thought. There were so many areas in life I was being convicted of, from food, holidays, entertainment and media, that it didn’t shock me to be called to contemplate the topic of education as well. I was left to question why we send our children off to school at age 3 1/2, or even five. Couldn’t I keep her a little longer? Couldn’t I just teach her? There was something deep inside of my being that was imploring me to consider something different. I was being left to question, is there another way? Perhaps a better way? At least for our family it seemed there was.
Over the years I have learned to listen to the desires of my heart. The bible tells us if we delight in Lord, He will give us the desires of our heart (Ps 37:4 NASB). What I believe this verse is saying, is that God actually places them within us. A desire to homeschool had been placed in my heart and I couldn’t shake it. Could I really keep her with me, nurture her, and continue to treasure every moment?!
Delight yourself in the Lord; And He will give you the desires of your heart (Ps 37:4, NASB)
It was as if I had opened an invitation to teach my children. It was hard to believe I was being invited to such a noble cause. Surely the Invitee knew who He was inviting. It wasn’t my place to question my invitation, but rather to simply RSVP – yes or no. What a grand honor! This may verywell be one of the greatest events of my life. Of course I want to attend. Yes! Yes! I will be there.
No, I wasn’t qualified to teach, but I have rarely been qualified for the tasks God has called me to in my life. He doesn’t call the equipped, He equips the called. Was I equipped? Not really. Was I passionate and excited? Absolutely. Was I invited? Yes.
I had an excitement I couldn’t contain – a passion burning inside of me to learn this new thing He was calling me into. When I feel God’s call on my life I tend to jump in head first. Well... that is not always true, there are times when I resist and run to Nineveh like Jonah (thank God I haven’t been swallowed by a whale yet). Some things are easier to say yes to than others. This invitation was directly ministering to a desire in my heart, and I couldn’t help but say yes. I wanted to finish what I had started. I knew teaching my children would give me great joy. I also knew that I would be humbled and fully reliant on the Lord to get me through. Isn’t that just where we should be? If I can do it in my own strength, then I don’t need God. “As God’s chosen, blessed sons and daughters, we are expected to attempt something large enough that failure is guaranteed…unless God steps in (Wilkinson).” I want to be in a place where I am reliant on the Lord. I want to be in a place where I have to fully depend on the Lords wisdom to guide my children’s education. After all, He created them. He knows them best. Why wouldn’t I want Him at the core of their education?
This life changing idea didn’t happen all at once on this cold January morning. Rather it was a culmination of events, conversations and moments in time, that were all simply being woven together that morning, like a warm quilt being wrapped around my shoulders. His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matt 11:30). I didn’t feel the weight of the world on my shoulders as I pondered this new idea. I felt peace and joy! Did I have uncertainties? Of course, but the peace and joy far outweighed the doubt. Doubt, fear and what-if’s are not from the Lord. We need to quiet those voices. If you are unqualifying yourself to teach your children, that voice is not from God. We parents are indeed our children’s best teachers. You are qualified. I am qualified. God equips the called and you are called!
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matt 11:28-30 (NIV)
That night as we snuggled and read before bedtime, I breathed in the smell of their sweet heads and felt the warmth of their skin against mine. A head resting on my shoulder snuggled in closer as I turned the final page of Goodnight Moon for the 100th time and whispered the familiar “goodnight noises everywhere” (Brown), and the requests came pouring in - just one more book, one more back rub, one more song, one more drink… I happily give one more, because I can, because of love - my superpower, and because I too… always want just one more moment with them. I never want to look back and wish I’d given them just a little more; instead, I want to give one more today.
After they were asleep and the house was quiet again, I found myself reading the poem “The Road Not Taken”. I was at a crossroads that day; “two roads diverged in a wood, and I – took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference (Frost)”.
That fall, we did decide to keep her home and I tried my hand at homeschooling. It turned out better than I could have ever imagined, mostly because my God showed up bigger than I could have ever hoped for. I was completely dependent on Him, and He did not disappoint me.
Are you holding an invitation in your hand to homeschool? You will know if you have received one simply by the fact that you find yourself contemplating the decision. It is now up to you to decide how you will RSVP. I will continue to share my journey in hopes of giving you the courage to say accept your invite. I have never regretted my yes!
Works Cited
Brown, Margaret Wise. 1947. Goodnight Moon.
Frost, Robert. 1916. "The Road Not Taken."
Wilkinson, Bruce. 2000. The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life.