This is the second month of the year-long Sonlight 25th anniversary blog party, and this month’s topic is one that I love to discuss, especially with newbie homeschoolers. How did you decide to homeschool? And how in the world did you decide what curriculum to choose way back in the beginning?
We came back from Nepal with next to nothing, and in quick order were blessed right back into a world with enough towels to handle baths and coats for our kids and a set of knives with which to cut our food. Just like that, we were average Americans again– warm clothes, ample food, a roof over our heads. And because we had stared into the face of lack (only for the briefest moment) we were able to sit in a circle on the carpeted floor in our empty living room in our rented house, look into one another’s eyes and sing praises that were more genuine than we had ever offered before.
When you do a lot of cooking, you quickly come to realize that, ummm … well, you can make anything at home. Usually cheaper, probably healthier, and almost always better.
Those cinnamon rolls in the bag inside your grocer’s freezer? Cheaper, healthier, and better homemade.
That loaf of fancy artisan bread? Cheaper, healthier, and better homemade.
Growing up, I was always a little in awe when my mom’s sisters got together. The house I grew up in was almost silent for the first seven years of my life; I was an only child until the arrival of my brother. My mom, however, was the youngest of seven kids– five of whom were girls. They weren’t a really tight bunch. Group gatherings like the kind that stopped me in my tracks happened maybe once a year. But on the rare occasion when they all found themselves in the same room as adults, the back stories and laughter flowed freely. I have no idea what they were like as children, but as grown women, they were amazing to watch: the personalities, the dynamics, the alliances, the tensions. I marveled at how different they all were, and yet how similar.
It’s kind of a running joke here: if it stands still long enough, I will try to find a way to cook it in the crockpot.
Lately, I’ve been grappling with the fact that sometimes God leads us to bad places on purpose, and not necessarily for our own benefit, but … wait for it … for HIS GLORY.
It seems strange that the God who loves us, who is love, would want us to suffer. But sometimes He does, even when we’ve done nothing wrong.
Dear Waiting Mom,
Congratulations! You’ve starved your fears, fed your courage, and followed a call to an incredible, awesome adventure. You’re adopting a child! Is there anything more awe-inspiring than stepping into the unknown and fully handing over the pen as God writes your family’s story in this breathtaking, surrendered way? Having a family pieced together through biology and adoption, I can tell you that both require their own unique kind of faith and trust … and both bring about the beautiful image of God’s plan for His people right there, around your own kitchen table.
Raise your hand if you’re a homeschooling mom who does it all. I’m not talking about the laundry and the dishes alongside the astronomy lessons. I’m talking about teaching every single subject, every day, all the time.
Man, there are a lot of you out there.
“Is there any more sauce?”
“Can I get some more water?”
“So I was reading that part where Jonas gets to the—”
“What’s the name of the mommy whose belly I came out of, again?”
The calendar rolled around to February, and it happened.
That thing I knew was coming all along, and yet, it still hit me hard in my chest and found that vulnerable Momma place that mixes fear with excitement and chokes it back up in inexplicable tears over the most random of conversation points.
Mary Hannah is applying to midwifery school.