Monday, August 29, 2016

The First Few Weeks

{The kids are doing one day a week at a charter school. And we currently have some seriously lovely friends staying with us for awhile and their kids are going to the same class day as our kids.}

I would be lying through my teeth if I said the first few weeks of school were peachy-keen. 

The first few weeks of school have always been on the verge of awful. There's a whole lot of crying and I ain't lying. 

After six years of week one's, I still can't put my finger on it. 

I try to be so prepared and on top of it. I prep the kids ahead of time with what the plan is for the year. I meet with each one individually and go over all their subjects with them. We pray our hearts out, and then Monday comes with a flood of emotions and lost pencils (even though I just sharpened 100 brand-spankin new ones and carefully placed them in each child's pencil box), and "I'm hungry's" and "I can't's" and a dozen debacles that started with a "he did this" or "she did that." And at the end of the day there is a Mama who sits on the living room floor and just stares wide-eyed at all the hoopla going on under the farmhouse roof. 

{I think it's been nearly a decade since I had only two kids with me at the grocery store. Going around with Just Solomon and Shiloh reminds me of the days when Siah and Hal were small and we spent our days at the park, naps were at 11, baths at 6:30 and bed at 7. Every day was so predictable. Now we live in a continual state of controlled chaos, no two two days alike, and all days full to the brim with a half dozen big personalities trying to live like Jesus towards one another.}

Now, with all that said, amongst the chaos, there always comes that moment when I can take a deep breath and remind myself of the why's. Why's like, "why would anyone in their right mind would choose to homeschool?"

I get that homeschooling isn't everyone's thing. But it is our thing. And when I hide out in the bathroom long enough to remind myself of the why's, then the whole crazy endeavor seems once again doable and even somewhat thrilling.  

We choose homeschooling so that we can spend our days together with our kids. (My Siah is eleven.  Our time is short and we long to soak up every minute of it, even the minutes that make me question my sanity.) 

We do this so we can know their hearts intimately, so we can seek His face in all circumstances, so we can bake cookies and watch videos on how to make the perfect roast chicken. 

We do this so that we can learn together, live together, forgive together & serve together, 

We do this so we can practice continually trusting steadily in God, hoping unswervingly in Him & loving extravagantly like Him. 

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
When I was an infant at my mother’s breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.
We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! 
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. 
{1 Corinthians 13}

{We play this game where I pull him in close and tell him I love him and he bursts into laughter and says "me no love you" so that I'll tickle him and tell him some more how much I love him.}

{He said he wanted a "little" snack. The next thing I knew, he was walking around with a "little" bit of popcorn.}

We do this so that we can learn to love one another well. 
The chaos so often is simply opportunity in disguise__ a chance to lay ourselves down and become more like Christ.

{When the going gets rough and it's only 8am, I pour myself a bath, give her a bag of pads and travel size toiletries to chew on, turn on the fan as to block out all other voices under the farmhouse roof, and soak up thirty minutes of glorious peace.}

The first few weeks have felt loopy and lovely all in the same breath. 

I'm here with my one loaf of bread and two fish and I'm trusting Him to take it and multiply it for His glory. 

I keep preaching it to myself__

"He holds the sparrow,
and He holds tomorrow,
and nothing on this earth matters except keeping our eyes on Him."

mUSIC: Sparrows By Jason Gray
pASSWORD: school days