It is January. That means packed gyms, new diets, and New Year’s resolutions. You either jump on the resolution band wagon or you don’t. Generally there aren’t many fence sitters to the resolution game. I am a New Year’s resolution kind of a girl. I love a fresh calendar, a new year, a fresh start. Being a homeschool mom, my year operates more August-May than January-December, but I never miss the opportunity to set new goals for myself and January always feels like the right time to do that. I pull out my journal, review the goals from last year, and set new goals in the following categories: spiritual, physical, intellectual, financial, practical, and relational. My zeal often leads to a long list. Every January it is a mixed bag of feeling accomplished over a few successful things and feeling discouraged over the long list of things I didn’t do. I don’t meet the resolutions for a variety of reasons from over ambitious goal setting to forgetting what resolutions I actually made. Many share my frustration. So are resolution and goal setting even worth it the effort? Rebekah Lyons made a statement on Instagram that has reshaped how I look at this year. She said we should focus on rhythms vs. resolutions. With a resolution you get one shot to get a right, but with a rhythm you are focused on creating a new pattern that will build over time. Resolutions are unforgiving. Commit to go to the gym five days a week and if you get sick, the commitment is over. Commit to no desserts in January and one slice of birthday cake and the rest of the month is out the window.
But a rhythm feels different. Developing a new rhythm gives grace for growth. While it is true that goals need to be measurable to be successful, often we need to celebrate forward progress instead of criticizing every misstep. Creating new rhythms also helps us think about what is important to us. If you want to have a body that can keep up with your grandkids, you don’t need a resolution to never eat dessert again; you need a rhythm of regularly moving and fueling your body well. If you want a clean house, you don’t need a resolution to Marie Kondo every space in your home, you just need a rhythm of putting everything in its place each night before bed. We brush our teeth every morning without much fanfare. We shower every day without a sticky note to remind us. Once we build rhythms and habits, things are accomplished with less effort and less stress, leaving mental space for other things. In his book, Atomic Habits, James Clear gives a masterclass on building new habits and rhythms. After reading his book I made one simple change that has led to a new rhythm I’ve wanted for a long time – I moved the dental floss out of the drawer and onto the sink. Seeing the dental floss every day, and knowing dental health is important to me, has helped me finally build a consistent habit of flossing. Many times “flossing – this the year!” found its way to my resolution list, but it wasn’t until I gave myself thee grace to build a rhythm and made a small change to make that easier that I actually did it. Rhythms lead to lasting change. This year I am taking time to think about what areas of my life are important enough to deserve focused attention on change. It requires more thought up front but helps me focus on lasting change vs random goals. I have a solid workout rhythm, so setting a goal to run a marathon wouldn’t be a good use of my time given my priorities and passions. What do I want to change and how can I articulate that into a rhythm that can be cultivated vs a menacing resolution that pushes me toward fear of failure? Those are the types of things going on the goal sheet for 2024. I still have some specific goals, like finishing the second draft of my next book, but the habit of setting regular writing blocks is the rhythm that will get me to that goal. What rhythms do you want to build in your life this year?
Before we moved to Spain, I had never considered living outside the US. While I knew it was always within the realm of possibility as a military family, we were never actively pursuing it.
Our move to Spain was unique because it would put us eight hours from the nearest base, fully immersed in the culture.
Well, almost fully immersed. I didn’t anticipate fighting the battle of living with one foot in America and one foot in Spain.
The military allowed us to move all of our belongings, except for major appliances like our washer and dryer. So, once our stuff arrived, inside the walls of our house felt like America, minus the bread drawer and jamon slicer in my kitchen.
The first few months, I fought to make my surroundings feel like I had never left America. Wal-Mart and Amazon shipments filled my pantry with peanut butter, Kind bars, Triscuits, and even Bounty select-a-size paper towels. We kept our online homeschool classes and piano lessons in the US, giving us afternoon and evening classes. We stationed multiple transformers around the house to use things like our keyboard, TVs, and Instant Pot. We bought what felt like hundreds of plug adapters for dual voltage electronics like our phones, computers, and sound machines (a necessity in every Monroe bedroom). Even outside of our house, we screamed “American,” driving the only Honda Odyssey on the streets of Valencia. The discomfort was tangible as we sought to squeeze our American life into our new Spanish reality.
As we began to meet other non-military Americans and ex-pats, I realized that our situation was unique. All of the ex-pats we knew rented furnished apartments, only bringing with them clothes and other essentials. They stepped off the plane and never got to escape into an American cocoon. I began to look at them with a bit of envy.
Living with one foot here and one foot there isn’t wrong; it is just my reality. While I do love my monthly Amazon shipments, there have been times it would be nice to not have to reach back to America for so many things to operate day to day. I have to order print cartridges, schoolbooks, printer paper (if I want the paper to fit in a three-ring binder), stamps, oil, filters, and parts for the cars. While we did buy some European items like a coffee pot, hairdryer, fans, and a space heater, I hit a point several months ago where I refused to buy anything else with a European plug. (Our nomadic lifestyle tendencies kick in as we start to look ahead to the next place, months before we actually leave.)
I wouldn’t change our circumstances. I’m thankful for the experience of being immersed in a culture. And I am grateful I could order my kids a box of cheerios to give them a little piece of home when everything around them changed so quickly. Nothing gave me the comfort of home when I needed it most than when my van arrived in Spain. However, some moments parking a European car into tiny spots would be far easier than my Odyssey. I love the oasis of our house in the suburbs, but I know my Spanish would be far better if we lived in the city and I had to interact with more people daily. Our kids being in school this year has at least provided more interaction and language skills for them.
One foot on either side of the ocean was what I needed for this move. We have adopted some Spanish ways, learned the language…all while eating off American paper plates. While we will miss so many things about our lives here when we move back to America, looking for a plug adapter when we need to charge a phone will not be one of them.
During our sixteen-year nomadic journey from one home to the next, we have lived in everything from a cookie-cutter three-bedroom two bath, to a 100-year-old apartment, to a sprawling Spanish villa. The highs and lows of each house have given us a clearer picture of what we would like in our “someday house.” From big-ticket items like a basement to small things like plenty of outlets in strategic places, we have begun to determine what matters to us and what just doesn’t.
We typically live in military housing, which isn’t always known for its innovation or frills like sitting rooms and basements. Contrast that to the past three years where we’ve been incredibly fortunate to have an overseas housing allowance that has afforded us things we’ve never had in our houses in the states – a spacious backyard, swimming pool, a collection of fruit trees, five bedrooms, and garage that could fit six cars if you parked them just right. It even has a stone tower worthy of Rapunzel. We would love to incorporate the basics of this floor plan, a five-bedroom, one-level house on a basement, into our future home with some American updates, like central air.
In preparation for our return to the US this summer, we recently put a contract on a new construction house in South Carolina (sight unseen, which is a bit scary!). Since military housing wasn’t an option, we had the opportunity to look at many floor plans in new construction neighborhoods in this growing area. Floor plans, 3D models, and virtual walk-throughs gave us a crash course in what appeals to buyers in our demographic.
We noticed one thing repeatedly in each house we looked at: the square footage spent on the master suite. When did master closets become the size of football fields? Why exactly are master bedrooms so enormous compared to other bedrooms? I totally get that the people paying the bills should not get shafted in the deal, but why have so much square footage in a bedroom?
All of this comparing and contrasting over the last few months have cemented in our mind our Dream House Wish List.
Basement – this is our biggest dream to have a basement complete with a kids’ hang-out area, dedicated schoolroom, and home gym.
Open Floor Plan – you don’t have to have a huge house for it to be functional. We value square footage in open living spaces. Instead of a master bedroom big enough for three king-size beds, we would use the square footage for a loft or office.
Custom Closets – I know walk-in closets are all the rage, but we have built-in custom closets in our current house, and we never want to go back! Closets with built-in drawers and functional storage areas reduce the wasted floor space of walk-in closets and can completely eliminate the need for dressers. I know this is a far-fetched dream for an American house, but check out my Instagram story for a detailed look, and I promise you will want to abandon team walk-in closet!
Kitchen – this is the hub of our home. I would prioritize money for the kitchen over anything else. Plenty of storage, functionality, a garbage disposal, gas range, double ovens, a refrigerator with water and ice (a luxury we’ve rarely had), and a walk-in pantry are all must-haves.
Outdoor space – area for a trampoline, green space, outdoor kitchen and dining, and a pool all make the dream list for outdoor space. We have been incredibly spoiled with our outdoor space and the climate to enjoy it here in Spain. I was hesitant about the pool at first, but with proper safety measures and a pool maintenance man, it has been amazing! Living in a climate where we can spend a lot of time outside has become a big priority. With stone terraces, fruit trees, and walkways wrapping around most of our house, the green space in the back leaves just enough to enjoy without owning a tractor to manage it all.
Central Heating and Air – when you have lived without it, it makes the list.
Bathrooms with a separate door for the shower and toilet. When kids are sharing a bathroom, this is such a game-changer!
Mud Room – I love this area to organize shoes, snow gear, backpacks, and sports equipment.
Carpet in the bedrooms – We have lived in several houses with hardwoods throughout. While I love hardwoods, I enjoy having carpet between my toes in my bedroom.
Storage – at least one large closet is important for things like luggage. A walk-up attic or space in the garage for shelving for seasonal items.
Our list is constantly changing as our priorities shift and our family needs change. Only the Lord knows if we will ever get to incorporate any of these into that elusive someday house, but for now, it is fun to dream. What is on your dream list?
From the outside, military kids’ lives often look like a page out of Oh the Places You’ll Go. From riding camels in Egypt to surfing in Hawaii, to field trips to the flight simulators and seeing the northern lights in Alaska – on any given day, my newsfeed can be filled with military families’ highlight reels of adventures. While they have some fantastic opportunities, like everyone else in life, the newsfeed doesn’t always capture the struggle. While struggle isn’t unique to military kids, they have many opportunities for growth built into their little worlds that they may not have otherwise.
When we decided to move to Spain, our kids were 10, 7, 4, and 1. While we consulted the older kids in the decision, none of them were old enough to truly understand what a move like that would mean in their lives. Packing up and moving was so typical that it didn’t really feel any different…until it did.
They were shielded from much of the initial jolt of living in a foreign country due to homeschooling. The real estate agent or the cable guy didn’t expect a response from them. They didn’t have to navigate roundabouts or the grocery store or find a church. Their daily routine had the same rhythm it always had. Not to say they didn’t struggle at all. Finding friends felt impossible for the older kids in a neighborhood with walls around every house and a church where our kids made up 90% of the children’s church. However, they did have a foundation of normalcy.
During a Thanksgiving dinner with friends in 2019, a native Spaniard asked where our kids went to school. Since homeschooling is a foreign concept here, that is not always an easy question to answer. He replied, “That’s good, but what a pity they will walk away from living in a foreign country for three years without learning to speak the language.”
Over the next several weeks, I couldn’t shake his comment. We had lived in Spain fifteen months at the time, and our Spanish was weak. (It is totally possible to live in a foreign country and not learn the language, especially when you speak English to each other every day at home, you homeschool your kids, your husband speaks English at work, and almost all of your friends are Americans.) Chad and I prayed over the decision for the next several weeks, and both came to the same conclusion – we wanted to send our kids to school. Not only were they not learning the language, but they were also lonely. We usually have a network of homeschooling families and activities, but there was nothing of the sort in Spain.
We saw the opportunity to do something for our kids that would benefit them for the rest of their lives. Beyond just learning a second language (which is a big deal), going to a school in Spain would forever give them perspective and empathy of being the new kid. It would provide them with the confidence (we hoped) to know that they could do new things even if they seemed hard at first. They would get a deeper appreciation for Spanish culture and have the opportunity to make new friends. They would also get to ride a school bus, which is every homeschooler’s dream.
Other friends who had put their kids directly into Spanish schools without their kids knowing the language cheered us on in our decision, assuring us that while the beginning would be hard, three months into school, our kids would be thriving.
The girls each had the opportunity to say yes or no. We knew the long-term benefits they would gain but didn’t want to force them into the decision. This wouldn’t just be a new school – it would be the first time they went to any school. Throw in a global pandemic, and everything would be taught in Spanish, and you have a big learning curve staring at them. They would have to navigate learning how to go to school, find their bus, balance homework, make friends on the playground and learn Spanish, all while wearing masks. Three out of the four kids agreed to the idea with varying levels of trepidation. Jake, who was three at the time, did not see the value of spending the entire day away from his mom!
Through the upheaval of Covid the following spring, we enrolled all four kids in school and waited for September to come. We bought new uniforms, backpacks, pencils and eight pairs of new shoes. On the first day of school, I’m not sure who was more nervous. Having navigated the entire enrollment process in Spanish, I doubted the instructions I gave to them because I doubted my own ability to fully understand the information that had been given to me. Thankfully they had been to two weeks of summer camp at the school, which gave them a basic knowledge of the layout and some familiar faces.
We pulled up to the school and filed in line behind the closed gate. As the doors slid open, all four of our kids took a step forward. They didn’t freeze. They didn’t run to the safety of the van. They walked through the doors, understanding how challenging the next few weeks would be.
Addison and Mya quickly found their classes, and Chad and I split up to take Lucy and Jake. I walked up to the preschool door with Jake tugging on my arm. After a brief exchange with the teacher, I realized we were at the wrong classroom.
“Mom, that’s not my class,” he had been trying to tell me. He remembered his teacher’s face from our initial meeting with her and knew that lady wasn’t her. We walked around the building, and he knew when we had found the right class.
After a brief hug and kiss, he confidently walked into the room, not looking back for a moment.
I met Chad at the gate to leave, my eyes already brimming with tears, but his face caused me to pause.
“Lucy’s teacher wasn’t at their line. I’m not even sure if she is with the right class.”
With Covid restrictions, we were limited to where we could go in the schoolyard and were asked to leave as soon as we dropped our kids off. Covid or not, we couldn’t leave until we knew she was settled.
I weaved my way through the throng of kids to the second-grade class lines. She stood at the end of the line, her blond pigtails framing her face. Two blue eyes bulging with tears peaked over her pink mask. I inhaled deeply to keep from losing it right there on the patio. She needed me to be strong for her in that moment. I could cry later.
I found her teacher, told her that Lucy knew very little Spanish (shocking that she had not been made aware of that before), and the teacher, feeling my concern, brought another girl over to stand with Lucy and help her navigate the day. I gave her a hug and whispered a prayer into her ear. I wanted those kids to be able to see her beautiful smile. I wanted them to rush to her and make her feel welcome. I wanted to save her from the pain and discomfort she was facing.
But I walked away. I had to entrust each of them to their Heavenly Father, knowing His eyes would be there, even when I couldn’t see them. I had a good cry sitting in my van and welcomed them with hugs and cookies when they stepped off the bus that afternoon.
I have never been more proud of my kids than I was that day. I couldn’t do what I was asking them to do. They faced their fears and continued to go back day after day. Days were hard in the beginning. Their bodies and minds were exhausted by the end of the day. Homework humbled all of us as we were all forced to drink from the fire hydrant of learning a second language. But six months later, we are all still standing. They are each conversational for their age, and they love school, minus the fish lunches. Addison has jumped into eighth-grade work with no remedial classes for Spanish and is passing every class. Mya speaks as fast as a native kid. Our shy little Lucy has surprised us all by loving school more than anyone else. Jake’s teacher says now she would never know he wasn’t a native speaker.
We aren’t perfect parents. We fall short so often, but I am so thankful we took this leap. As parents, we have opportunities to expand our kids’ horizons for the opportunity of growth. Sometimes it is not the right time or season for hard growth, but sometimes it is. We can’t let our fear stand in the way of their opportunities. They are capable of so much more than we think they are. There are times the Lord is calling us to toss them into the deep end of the pool so that we can watch them swim!
PS – I am in the midst of a 30-day writing challenge. You may see a few more emails from me than normal, but know it is just temporary and I promise not to bombard your inbox forever!
Is God good even when He says no to our most desperate prayers?
I am a teacher. Some days my kids probably wish that I weren’t because it makes for longer than average explanations, a sometimes over-enthusiasm for learning, and a high standard for homework checks. I probably go over my daily word limit when I feel passionate about a subject and enjoy pulling threads of understanding and faith into any topic.
A few weeks ago, I was teaching an online high school history class. While discussing the empires of Assyria and Babylon, I dove into a discussion about the goodness of God. Through the pages of Scripture describing this time period, we see a cruel and unforgiving world where cities are pillaged, nations destroyed, people slaughtered, and people starving. By the end of class, my pulse quickened, and I resisted the urge to stand to my feet as I implored them to view all of life through the lens of the goodness of God.
“If we don’t come to these events with a foundational belief that God is good, we can quickly lose our footing theologically. If God is good, then even the worst events in history, from the destruction of Jerusalem to the Holocaust, to childhood cancer and human trafficking, can be seen as pieces of a puzzle that God is ultimately working together for good. Suppose we don’t fundamentally believe that He is good. In that case, we have no basis for how to interpret a God that can allow such atrocities.”
Days after my resounding commentary on the goodness of God, I walked through a tough week of hardship, sickness, and death in our circle of friends. A dear friend died of Covid. A pastor and mentor died after a painful and abrupt battle with cancer. Another friend, a husband, pastor, and father of four lay in the ICU fighting for his life. It felt like the next wave of sadness crashed before I had a chance to come up for air.
It is moments like these that our faith, what we put our hope in, whether that is God or something, is tested. Pain and suffering can shine a light into the deepest parts of our soul, where we learn if the faith we claim to have can handle the harsh realities of a fallen world.
Grief and concern piled on top of the painful reality of being an ocean away and the weariness of a year of lockdowns and restrictions. The heaviness pressed on me like a dark, wet blanket. Even in the darkness, however, I had a bedrock of truth forged years ago supporting me.
If you know me, you probably know how much I love my grandparents. They have been pillars in my life. In 2001, during my sophomore year in college, my parents called and said to come home. My Pa-paw was dying. I drove the nine hours home from Ohio the next morning with sadness, silence, and troubling anticipation as my constant companions.
When the time came to say our final goodbye, my dad gathered the family in a circle stretching beyond the waiting room to the elevator doors. His prayer at that moment stands as a cornerstone of my faith. He prayed the words of Daniel 3:17 (which was spoken by three Hebrew teenagers as they stood up to an emperor in the face of certain death):
“If it be so, our God who we serve is able to deliver us from this and to raise Pa-paw up and heal him. But if not…” his voice cracked with emotion. “But if not, O God, we will still love you and serve you. We know that You are good. You are faithful to us even now.”
My dad’s faith came to life for me that day. It wasn’t just a faith that he talked about or hoped would be there one day. It wasn’t a list of rules and regulations or obligations of service. His faith wasn’t in a church building or a religious system. His faith – my faith – stood up to even the most difficult circumstances because it was based on a fundamental trust in the goodness of God. God wasn’t a vending machine from whom we could demand a particular response. To trust in a God that answers our every demand is to trust in a being subject to our own whims and desires. And to trust in a God that isn’t fundamentally good is terrifying.
A peace washed through my heart standing in that circle. It seared my faith with an understanding that no matter what I saw around me, I could trust in a God who was good and had good plans for me and those I loved.
I’ve had a few “But if not” moments in my own life since then. I’ve stood at cliffs of uncertainty where He was asking me to jump and trust that He would catch me. In those moments, I have had to decide if He really would. Each time I have stood with more confidence than the last that my hope in Christ is real and sustaining. It is what I have when I’ve sat in a puddle with the pieces of my shattered life surrounding me. It is the confidence I can have that He will make all things new one day, even if the answer is not today. One day every sickness will be healed. Poverty and crime will be eradicated. Whether He chooses to answer my prayers on this day or that day, I can trust that He is a loving, good, and kind God. He doesn’t orchestrate evil in the world, but in His kindness, He uses it to draw me closer to Him.
PS – I am in the midst of a 30-day writing challenge. You may see a few more emails from me than normal, but know it is just temporary and I promise not to bombard your inbox forever!
I grew up in the heart of the Bible Belt, in a county that, thirty years ago, barely scraped the corner of metro-Atlanta. It’s the kind of place where everyone goes to church on Sunday, waves an American flag, drinks sweet tea, and takes their second amendment rights seriously. My dad is also a Baptist deacon and choir director. All of these factors set me up for some spot-on stereotypes:
I can quickly discern a good casserole from a bad one in the homecoming buffet line.
I know the difference between culottes and walking shorts and have owned both.
It might be an even split between hours I spent at church and hours I spent at home during my childhood.
I know the words to each stanza of “There’s Power in the Blood,” “Victory in Jesus,” “I’ll Fly Away,” and “Just as I Am.”
I’ve been to a lot of funerals.
While going to funerals is probably written into a Baptist deacon’s job description, it is also written into our DNA as a family. My grandmothers and mom have modeled how to take care of people when they are grieving. When someone dies, you take a meal, send flowers, visit the family at the funeral home, attend the funeral and the graveside service. Maybe this is routine for southerners, churchgoers, or people in a strong community, but growing up, I thought it was normal for everyone. It wasn’t until I met my husband and learned that he had only been to one funeral in his life that I realized regularly attending funerals wasn’t the norm for everyone.
Our world has had much to grieve over the last year. While everyone walks through the stages of grief differently, we all need to grieve to move on in a healthy way when we suffer loss. For me, going to funerals is an essential part of the grieving process. Funerals give an opportunity to share memories with others, grieve together and celebrate and honor the life of the person who died. It provides a sense of closure as I pass from one stage of grief to the next. Since living in Europe, I have missed the funerals of several people dear to me. Each time my grief was compounded by not being able to go to the funeral, like a pouring salt into a tender wound.
While helping us grieve, funerals also provide a time to celebrate life. No matter how short, long, accomplished, simple, broken, or restored – each God-given life is worthy of remembering. Whether it is a large gathering in a church or a handful of people in field, every person deserves to have those closest to them speak words over them in their remembrance. It gives dignity to their life and death and a chance to focus on our ultimate hope of eternity. On a recent trip to Normandy, I walked through the American Cemetery with my children. As we passed each white cross, we took turns saying the names out loud of the men who had given their lives there in the name of freedom. I wanted my children to know the value of each life and the high cost of freedom and I somehow wanted those men to know they were not forgotten.
I’ve bought last-minute plane tickets, driven through the night, stood at snowy gravesides and the hallowed grounds of Arlington because often our presence in times of grief is meaningful not only to us but to others. There is something about showing up to funerals and memorials that shows the family that their loved one impacted others and will not be forgotten. I remember a high school friend who drove a long way to come to my Pa-paw’s funeral. It was a simple but meaningful gesture of support that I still remember twenty years later.
Whether it’s the high cost of burial, busy schedules, distance between loved ones, or now Covid restrictions, there is a subtle shift in norms in our society on the importance of funerals and shared grief. Now more than ever, I believe we need to walk through grief well. We need to grieve together, honor the dead, support their families, and share the hope of an eternity free from pain, suffering, and death. Even if we can’t attend a funeral, we can share a meal, send a card, or make a phone call to support the family and remember the life.
If the ever-evolving corona landscape is making you consider homeschooling, you are not alone. I have had multiple people reach out to me in the past several weeks asking questions about homeschooling given the uncertainty of the coming school year. While I am no expert, I enjoy helping other families in figuring out how best to customize their child’s education. In a series of posts over the next few weeks, I will lay out some answers to the most common homeschooling questions I am asked:
Should I homeschool? Can I homeschool? (Spoiler alert – yes, you can!)
How do you choose curriculum?
How do you organize your year/week/day?
How do you teach multiple grade levels at once?
How do you keep the littles happy and busy?
How can I juggle my own job/career and homeschool?
Little of what I will share will be unique to me. I have gleaned wisdom from many moms over the years and will share that here with you. I will also point you in the direction of helpful resources no matter where you are in your decision process.
The first question to ask when considering homeschooling is why. Why do you want to homeschool? Whether you are considering homeschooling for a year or for the length of your child’s education, having a firm why will help shape the resources you choose and give you fortitude when the days get tough. It will help keep you grounded in your decisions and give you confidence moving forward.
Here’s how I found my why.
I never planned on homeschooling. Neither my husband nor I were homeschooled. My husband attended public school his entire career, including college and grad school. I attended private schools the majority of the time, with a stint in public school 4th-8th grade. For being a planner by nature, I never really considered school choice until my oldest was preschool age. When weighing the options for preschool, I honestly didn’t want to fork over the money. That probably sounds terribly shallow, but it’s true. My husband was deployed, we were far from family and I had the time. I knew I could teach her the basics of a preschool curriculum at home and save our family a lot of money.
The next year when Addison was in Kindergarten, we moved to West Point, where for ten months my husband was in a graduate program at Columbia University. He only had classes on Monday and Wednesday evenings and Tuesday afternoons. I knew homeschooling would give us the flexibility to travel and more opportunities to be together as a family, which was really important coming off of two deployments in three years.
So, it wasn’t until Addison was in first grade that I really thought about how long I was going to teach our kids at home. I don’t use the pronoun “I” by mistake. In the early years, homeschooling wasn’t a terribly joint decision. I had just decided that what’s I wanted to do, and Chad supported it. He enjoyed the flexibility to travel and not be tied to a school schedule. By first grade I was already pretty far down the path of “we are a homeschooling family,” but Chad wasn’t there at all. In the beginning, he accepted the decision with minimal reservations for the early years. As long as mama was happy, he was happy.
But a few months into the school year with a first grader, three-year-old, and new baby, I wasn’t happy. The yellow school bus looked like a ticket to freedom and sanity for us all. My friend encouraged me to write out the pros and cons of homeschooling for our family and to pray over the list. She said, “Academically, a one-to-one ratio is almost always better, but you have to know what’s best for your family overall.”
So, I sat down and made a list of the pros and cons of homeschooling as well as the pros and cons of a traditional school. Chad and I went over together and prayed over it. My tendency was to die on the hill of homeschooling just for the sake of saying I didn’t quit. But I knew I wanted what was best for my kids, for my marriage and for our family. The result was developing our philosophy of education together, which would serve as our guiding compass for all decisions regarding how we schooled our children.
“We believe our children’s education should produce lifelong learners who are passionately living out Christ’s call on their lives. We want them to be self-motivated, ethical, hard-working adults. We want them to be firmly grounded in Scripture and have a wide base of knowledge to be able to pursue what the Lord calls them to do and to be able to serve the body of Christ and the local church.”
For us, the pros to homeschooling that tipped the scale were time and flexibility.
Time – Discipleship takes time. For us, traditional school simply didn’t provide enough time for us to do that to the level we wanted to do it. We also wanted our children to have time together as siblings and foster those relationships over peers. Friendships are vital and we want our children to have friends, but for most people, sibling relationships are going to be more influential and more enduring than third-grade best friends. As a mom I also wanted to share in my kids’ excitement of learning and firsts. There is nothing like the excitement of listening to a kid read when it first clicks!
Flexibility – Being a military, travel-loving family, we loved the flexibility homeschooling offered for our schedule. When deployment reunions or moves happen in the middle of the school year, we can take as much time off as we need (easier for littles than older ones I will admit). We are free to explore places in off peak time periods and take school along as we need to. Aside from traveling, we also loved the flexibility homeschooling offered in our children’s education. I often say homeschooling is not able teaching every subject at home – it is about having the flexibility to customize your child’s education. Whether that’s online classes, slower paced curriculums, coops, internships, hybrid schools or dual enrollment, there are countless ways you can customize your child’s education based on their interest, learning styles and your family’s needs.
So, do I think homeschooling is the right choice for every family? No, absolutely not. Homeschooling is family decision that has to benefit every member of the family. Miserable moms and kids are not the goal. Learning and discipleship are the goals. This doesn’t mean it’s an easy road of sunshine and roses. Doing the right thing if often hard, but constant misery and hard are two very different things. There are many children too, especially ones with certain special needs, that would thrive better in a specialized school environment.
Do I think every family can homeschool? Yes, for the most part. If you have a desire to homeschool your children, you can do it. There are financial resources and free options for families whose finances would prevent them from purchasing curriculum. However, I do believe homeschool is difficult for two full-time working parents, especially with young children. It can be done, but there has to be considerable flexibility for at least one parent to make it successful. I am learning the art of juggling my career and homeschooling my children myself!
Do you have to have patience to homeschool? The number one response I get to homeschooling is “Oh, I don’t have the patience to do that.” My answer is always, “Yeah, I don’t either.” I hope the past few months have been a testimony to NO ONE HAS THE PATIENCE FOR IT. Parenting is a choice to live for something other than yourself. Homeschooling your kids provides lots of opportunities for growth for everyone. It provides opportunities to work through things together and grow as a family. There are ZERO homeschooling moms (or humans…) that are patient and kind and loving 100% of the time.
Do you have to be a teacher to homeschool? No. All that is required to homeschool is the ability to find the resources that will best help your child achieve success. Anyone can do that. Online chemistry and calculus classes are popular for a reason!
In considering whether homeschooling is right for your family, whether for a season or for a lifetime, here are some things you can do to figure out your why.
Pray alone and with your spouse often
Write out the pros and cons of homeschooling for your family
Write out the pros and cons of traditional schooling for your family
Write out your philosophy of education (This is a great exercise no matter how you choose to school your kids!)
Talk to homeschool families about their experiences
Once you figure out your why, you will be in the position to move forward with the frequently asked question of: How do I choose the right curriculum?
A few weeks ago, my family was surprised by an enormous swarm of bees at our house.
They flocked by the hundreds just outside the back door off our patio. The noise was like a buzz saw, angry and ready for anything within its reach. Thankfully we were all safe inside, away from the looming threat where we were minutes before.
After several visits from the “bee guys,” decked out in bee suites with smoke cannons, the bees still remain. Apparently, the queen has found the perfect residents inside the structural beam of the patio for her honeycomb palace. The bee colony continues to find the smallest cracks to squeeze through to get to her. They are just living, part of this world, not even knowing the fear they’ve created.
My wife and I are not allergic to bees. We have no idea if any of our four children are. While we haven’t seen a swarm like we did the first day, the colony thrives. Bees impatiently funnel in and out, colliding with anything that gets in their way.
During our 60 days and counting of home quarantine in Spain, these bees made me think about how we define safety, when and where we should assume risk and when and where we shouldn’t.
The first day we noticed the bees, we remained inside for the rest of the day. Well, I went out with a makeshift bee suit on to grill salmon for my wife’s birthday but locked up otherwise. Day two we were extra cautious as well. Day three, the “bee guys” made attempt number one to forcefully remove the bees. This offered us some comfort and we began to play outside again, just with distance and caution. Fast forward two more weeks, one more attempt at extermination, and a pending third visit later this week and here we are.
What are we to do? What is the risk of my children getting stung? What are the possible consequences of them getting stung? While we cannot answer these questions with any level of certainty, we have elected to cautiously enjoy life outside the walls of our home. It became clear that the emotional well-being of our children provided more safety than continuing to lock up inside. While it made sense to continue avoiding the bees altogether out of fear of the unknown possibilities, as time went on, we began to define safety differently. The risk of our emotional well-being outweighed the risk of getting stung by the bees.
I don’t think it’s a stretch for me to apply this bee-hive illustration to the world’s current state. How do we define safety? What risk are we willing to take and why?
I support our leaders and professional experts. Many are courageously serving during this time of crisis. Yet, there are still many unanswered questions. Some may never be answered. At some point, there is value in wisdom and re-assessing risk in terms of safety.
Safety for some may mean risking it all to simply put food on the table. Safety for others may be a full M95 mask and protective suit as they care for those in need. Safety for others may be school to escape a dangerous home life. For others, it may be locking up inside the comfort of their home with everything they need. The point is, safety for one doesn’t mean, or guarantee, safety for all.
Going forward, we have an undeniable obligation to care for each other. But we must remember this may look differently depending on how everybody defines safety.
The world has changed. Over the last two months we have seen a response to a crisis unlike anything in modern history. Plagues, pestilence and disease are not new, but the response to this particular virus is unprecedented. While there have been regional responses to disease in the past, globalization and social media provide rich soil for world-wide and real time responses. We could speculate as to why this response has been so extreme, but the more important question I believe is where we go from here and what are the standards for determining that path.
The path forward is a murky one. Those in leadership have to make difficult choices, with some oversimplifying the choice as choosing between physical well-being over economic well-being. Unfortunately, however, the choice is not that simple. One thing that framework suggests is that physical well-being was assured before this crisis began. It assumes that no one was dying before this virus started sweeping the globe, which is obviously not true.
In response, leadership asked people to stay at home to protect the vulnerable populations and give the healthcare system space to meet demand. The goal of social distancing was clear – to flatten the curve and to not overwhelm the healthcare system. Flattening the curve and protecting the vulnerable are worthy and achievable goals that everyone should strive to help accomplish. But remember, the stated goal was never to eliminate death or sickness.
Now however, two paths seem to be emerging in the way forward: open up the economy with measures of protection or keep lockdowns in place until safety can be achieved. In order to achieve safety, the definition of safety has to be determined. What if what is safe for one is not safe for all? Is a vaccine the only hope for reopening society? What if someone doesn’t want the vaccine? Will they be mandated to take it in order to achieve the desired level of safety? These are all difficult questions to wrestle with, but one thing is certain: humans have a 100% death rate; so, I think we would all agree that the goal of zero deaths from any virus is an impossible standard. So how many deaths are ok?
Let’s look at the numbers for the flu for some perspective. (Before you start launching tomatoes, I’m not comparing the viruses themselves, just the numbers.) So even with the very best medicine can offer, a vaccine with about a 40% effective rate[1], and years for people to build up antibodies, as many as 61,000 people die every year in the US of the flu[2]. And yet, each flu season, as a society we carry on with life as normal. Some people put great effort into decreasing their chances of sickness – increased sanitizing regimes, avoiding large crowds, taking natural supplements or over the counter medications. Some people, however, take no precautions and take their chances with the possibilities of getting the virus. Even in isolated incidents, some schools have closed for a short period of time for extra sanitation measures if a particularly high outbreak has occurred. Up until now, Americans have generally accepted this scenario of tens of thousands of people dying of one disease as normal, albeit sad, reality.
The data from this virus is hard to pin down, but here are the things we know:
The death projections in the US went from 2.2 million in the worst-case scenarios to about 60,000, or the same level as the flu.[3]
The death numbers are inflated. Dr. Deborah Birx stated on April 7, “If someone dies with COVID-19, we are counting that,”[4] So a patient who dies of a heart attack c would be listed as a Covid-19 death if it was reasonably assumed the patient had the virus.
Far more people have had the virus than the test numbers reflect, which also makes the death rate lower than once thought.[5]
USNS Comfort is no longer needed in NYC and was only used for a small number of patients.
At least two Army Field hospitals that were built have been taken down for lack of need.
With this information in mind, we need to examine the two paths of thought we see in our country – extending lockdowns until a measure of safety can be achieved or reopening life and economies with some social distancing measures. With either path you run into the question of the value of democracy and individual rights. How do we make the leap from viruses and vaccines to democracy?
In democracies and free markets people get something that no other system of government can offer: freedom of choice. A democratic government “derives its powers from the consent of the governed.” American democracy was such a radical idea because for the first time in human history every voice in society would get an equal vote. This meant that those in leadership weren’t the “elite” of humankind and that riches or birthright didn’t determine who could govern. It meant that education did not determine the worth of your voice. The Declaration of Independence boldly declared that every person has the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, not because the government bestows it upon them, but because it is given to them by their Creator. Although it took America years to get there, every person has the opportunity to freely choose the laws placed over them through representation.
The one tricky question in democracy has always what rights belong to the federal government, what rights belong to the state and what rights belong to the individual. Systems like communism cannot afford to give people liberties like the freedom of speech and the freedom of religion because their system requires compliance. Freedoms and compliances sometimes are at odds, especially when the governed have no voice in their representation.
So, then what is the role of the government for us as Americans? Is it to keep us safe? Is it to provide for our every need? It is to care for the poor? Is to heal the sick? I believe Abraham Lincoln said it best, “That government should do for people only what they cannot do better by themselves, and no more.”
We can make decisions about our health. We can make decisions about how and where we worship. We can make decisions about how we express our opinions and how we treat others. We do not need the government to regulate these things. There are many things we normally do on our own that only come into question at times of crisis. Fear drives people to look to a higher power for protection and security, to assure them everything will be ok.
Thurgood Marshall said, “History teaches that grave threats to liberty often come in times of urgency, when constitutional rights seem too extravagant to endure.”[6]
So, what does this civics lesson have to do with Covid-19? That remains to be seen, but the potential exists for liberties to be taken and never returned if fear is allowed to dominate the conversation.
What if a state decided that in order to return to work, you had to receive a vaccine? Or that schools would not reopen until a vaccine was available? This is one example of ideas swirling around that would provide a feeling of safety for some, but an abuse of liberty for all. Defining “essential work” could be another in an extended lockdown. A hair stylist may not be listed an essential job, but if a single mom of three is dependent on it to feed her children, the hard lines of what is essential and not become more blurred.
Or what if every flu season a version of the last two months is replayed?
Democracies allow for freedom of choice and depend on the moral compass of the governed. There is no middle ground for democracy. Enacting restrictions so severe people are forced to comply out of fear is tyranny. The Civil War, The Great Depression, World War II and 9/11 each had instances of overstep by the government defended by urgency. Some were rescinded and some were not. We are at a pivotal point in our nation where we need to be aware of decisions being made and the long-term effects on our freedoms.
John Adams said, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”[7]
The government cannot legislate morality and kindness. The government cannot make us think of our neighbor more than ourselves. Free people have to make that choice. If they are not governed by the law of God in their hearts, then the government often steps in to enforces laws. Given the sin nature of man, this is a natural consequence, but this is not how government works best because even at their best, leaders’ actions are never without motives and influence. This works well for you only if you agree with the motives and influence of the current leaders.
It is the responsibility of people and the church to step into these roles of caring for others, not the government’s. As a whole the church has done such a woeful job of this, that now a generation has been brought up to believe that the role of the government is far broader than it needs to be.
The answer is not more government regulation. The answer is that as a nation need to think of others more than ourselves. We need to do what is in our power to keep the disease from spreading, but not let our fear overpower common sense. We need to ask discerning questions and not just take information as it is presented. We need to hold our leaders accountable and ask questions when things seem to not add up. We need to help our neighbors instead of expecting the government to do it. We need to make our voices heard when federal government grabs for powers that should lie with the individual or the state, while at the same time obeying rules placed for our good that may just be a temporary discomfort.
This all takes wisdom and discernment in a time of media sensationalism, political division and self-serving ideologies. Our leaders need prayer and divine wisdom in the days ahead. Let’s pray for them and look for ways to serve those around us and put others before ourselves.
I struggle with hard and fast rules. I realize this seems totally contrary to the title of this post and my overall personality. Left to its natural state my brain functions at two speeds: all or nothing. Either I let the school room exist in a state of complete disaster (thank you three-year old boy) or the books are in Dewy Decimal order, lined perfectly ½ inch from the lip of the shelf. The bathrooms are either “kid cleaned” or “mom with a toothbrush” cleaned. I struggle anywhere in between. I have had to put significant work into curbing this tendency because often there is simply not enough time for “all,” and families can’t function well in “nothing.”
So, when it comes to rules to live by, I have to be careful. If Jesus can narrow the entire Law into two commandments, I figure that’s a pretty good plumb line of how many my brain can handle.
Rule #1 – No Yard Sales
I love a good deal and I try not to allow clutter to pile up in my home, so why no yard sales? The principle – I never want to accumulate enough unwanted stuff that would justify having a yard sale. When you move every few years and literally have to find a home for every item you own, it pays to keep things as light and clutter free as possible. I do this by limiting household purchases to stuff that we actually need, therefore reducing things that will one day end up in the donation bin. Decorating with timeless fabrics and pieces and passing clothes down between children reduces some of our need to purchase new things. This doesn’t mean I don’t shop, but it does mean I try to only shop with a purpose. (Ok, I will admit it: I don’t love shopping anyway.) When we trek through stores like IKEA, we stick to the list, which is beneficial for the budget as well. Shopping less for ourselves allows us more resources to be generous to others.
Even if you love to shop and change decorations up often, this rule can still apply to you, you just have to be more diligent to not let things pile up. I keep two donation boxes in our house. One for clothes and one for other items. When the box is full, it leaves the house. While I love to pass our kids’ clothes to friends if possible, I love finding an organization with a clothing closet for foster families. For larger furniture, I use Facebook or Craigslist to get them out of the house quickly.
When an overseas move and the “no more babies” stage hit our house at the same time, I will admit that I broke this rule and did a major purge. Seasons change that bring about larger purges, but regularly having an excess of unwanted items could be a sign of a bringing too much into your home in the first place.
Rule #2 – Don’t Buy New Pants
While I’ve already admitted my distain for shopping, even I must buy new pants on occasion! The principle – as an adult, outside of major life changes, the need for a new pants size is a warning sign. (Hear me child-birthing age mamas – I’m not talking to you. Birthing babies is a gift and one day you will be out of the yo-yo stage. Have grace for yourself and your body.)
“We don’t buy new pant” is an often-heard mantra in my home inspired by my dad. He’s sixty-four-years old and has worn the same size pants for my entire life.
For most of us, if we are careful to put healthy food into our bodies and careful to carve out time to require physical activities of our bodies, this rule isn’t too hard to follow. Please take these words with the grace that I give them – this is not a place of shame or discouragement. There are multiple factors, including genes, that play into this. This is just a guiding principle to say that for most of us, if we need to buy new pants, we need to ask ourselves why. Do we want to allow ourselves to mindlessly and consistently move up pants sizes or do we want to stop and examine the habits that may be contributing?
I hop on my bathroom scale every morning, normally under the rolling eyes of my husband. The daily scale reading can be brutal. Scales, or even BMI tests, are tough critics – mercy and grace are rarely extended for small indulgences. Jeans, on the other hand, are like an old friend. They give us grace but will give us truth when we really need it. They will forgive a milkshake or two, PMS or a few skipped workouts. It is a decent plumb line for overall health and can be a reason for discouragement or celebration depending on your daily habits. Ask any woman who has had a baby – it is a day of celebration when you can fit into your normal jeans again!
These two rules hold me accountable in many areas of my life. With just two, they are easy to remember, apply and teach to my children. What are your rules to live by?
