This post may contain affiliate links. Purchases made through these links support our family’s work in sharing the Gospel around the globe. Thank you!
School is now officially, firmly in session this week. The rhythm is not there yet, but the heart is– and so far, I’d say 2016-17 is promising. The Lord clearly has lessons in mind: lessons in patience, in grace, and being a good student even when you don’t like the skill being taught. And those, by the way, are all for me.
For the kids, it’s looking a little different. I’m praying this is the year John Mark discovers the real power of reading and leaves behind the more casual flips through “real” books in favor of full-on, hungry, head-first dives. I’m watching Phineas write his name and hearing him tell me that things are the same or different, and even following a line of shapes and picking out all of the pink triangles or blue squares. This is big stuff. Huge. And I’m simultaneously jumping out of my chair with excitement and wringing my hands in fear that tomorrow, it will all be gone.
I’m cheering Birdie through place value (am I the only one whose kids struggle mightily with this?), reading The Shepherd Boy to Simon, grading Jack’s newspaper article take on The Great Brain, dialoguing with Mathaus about John Muir’s obsessive relationship with nature in Our National Parks, and convincing Jude to stay put just a little longer with his first forays into Montessori Toddler Trays.
While I’m curating the learning environment of the youngest seven, Mary Hannah has been getting her feet wet with some clinical skills. She just returned from an intensive tutorial on IV therapy and suturing. The highlight, for her, was a focus on practicing midwifery in developing countries, something that she still feels firmly called to do. Now that’s she’s back, though, it’s crunch time for finding a preceptor midwife who will accept her as an apprentice. I’ve been impressed with her commitment to honor God in the process, and her firm resolution that He is going to lead her to the right person; the temptation is to sign on with anyone just to get moving, but she is adamant that no preceptor is better than the wrong preceptor. How on earth did we raise such a wise young lady?
And, finally, Babita. We are pleased to announce that she began classes this week, too— at Crown Nepal. This Kathmandu campus is an off-shoot of the university local to us, and will allow Babita to accrue a year’s worth of credit (and thus hopefully prove her dedication to her education to the U.S. Embassy) and live in a dorm on-campus before attempting to apply for a visa again next summer. While this isn’t the route we intended to take, it’s a door that God opened that offered answers to many of the immediate, more pressing questions left hanging when the U.S. denied her last application— like where she would live as a young adult that has aged out of a children’s home. It’s not the perfect solution, but it’s a workable one that will, God willing, lead to an increased likliehood of her being able to read Simon a bedtime story one night only a year from now.
And so, we begin. Not that we ever stopped, really. We’re always encouraging our children forward, exhorting them to grow towards their purpose and shine. But well … there’s got to be a rolling over point, a line in the sand you can call the beginning. This one is as good as any, right?