Homeschooling: A Saul to Paul Conversion

I used to be a homeschool hater.

That's right....I used to talk smack about  "nerdy homeschoolers".

My husband and I were both educated in the public school system and had what I would consider the "All-American" school experience. When we got married and had kids, we never thought in a million-trillion- bazillion  years that we would teach our kids at home. EVER.

Education was important to us.  It was so important that we would do nearly anything for our kids to get into a great school district.  In fact, it took us two full years to find a house we could afford in the best school district in our part of the state.  It was so important to us that we purchased our house in a town that is 30 minutes away from our pastures and cattle. We were willing to make HUGE sacrifices because nothing but the best would do for our kids.

There were a few of my friends at church who were planning to teach their children at home, and I flat out told them they were CRAZY.

Our church got a new youth pastor, and he and his wife were both homeschooled themselves, and planned on teaching their own children the same way.

One evening I was traveling in a car with our youth pastor on the way to do a church visit and the subject of education came up.  We got into a discussion and he told me some nonsense about how wonderful it was for him to be homeschooled, and how he hopes to raise his kids the same way. Blah, blah, blah.  I looked him straight in the eyes and said the following words... and I quote:

"I will NEVER homeschool my kids."

Then I proceeded to tell him every un-educated and stupid myth about homeschooling that I had ever heard and never researched.  You know, I used the dreaded "S" word....Your kids will never be "socialized".

(At this very moment God must have been sitting on his throne, and unbeknownst to me, he was probably laughing his head off during our conversation! I imagine He was thinking, "Oh, Nell, you have NO IDEA about the plans I have for you. HaHaHaHa!!!!!")

Let me make one thing clear....EVERYONE knew of my ill feelings about homeschooling.

So time went on and our oldest child turned four. Even though I was a stay-at-home mom,  I enrolled him in a Christian preschool 3 afternoons a week so he could be properly "socialized". That's what all the moms did.  I dutifully baked cupcakes for his class and volunteered frequently.  My boy was a shining star in the classroom.  I worked with him on A,B,C's and 1,2,3's at home, and he excelled.

In the springtime, our local school district had a "Kindergarten Round-up" and I went to the school and enrolled him to start class the following fall.

I went home that night and felt a weird twinge of uncertainty about our decision to send him to school.  I dismissed it immediately.

Yet it kept happening, day in and day out.  I read article after article about the failing school system in our state. Education was a hot button topic during the elections at that time and I poured over newspaper and magazine commentaries about education reform and school choice, and where our nation ranked with regards to education when compared to other industrialized countries.

Simultaneously, I was reading my Bible and was struck with the sheer magnitude of my responsibility as a parent of three little souls.  I  firmly believed that one day I would have to stand before God and be held accountable for the way in which I raised my children. That's not something to be taken lightly. My husband and I deeply desired for them to have a thorough Christian education. One of the many verses that kept coming to mind was this one:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.  And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart.  You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.  You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:5-9

The question that I was muddling over in my mind was, "Could we effectively live out Deuteronomy 6:5-9 if we were limited to only weekends and evenings after dinner and homework were done?" Could we, in fact, counter-balance the things our kids would be hearing in the world with Biblical truths when they were away from us for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week?

On the flip side, I knew that there were many wonderful, dedicated teachers in the public school system. There were also many bright and amazing kids. I also knew that my parents were able to teach me the Word of God before and after school, and I was able to remain strong in my faith. (I later learned that statistically I was in the minority but that's another story for another day.)

So for over a month, I silently played tug-of-war in my mind about what to do with all of this knowledge plus a hundred other things on both sides of the issue. It was a huge dichotomy! I wanted my kids to be"in" the world but not "of" it. I wanted them to have lots of friends but not to be overly influenced by their peers.  I wanted them to understand the dangers of drugs and alcohol, but I didn't want them to be exposed to them.

I prayed day and night.  I was desperately trying to find clarity on it all.  But in the tiny recesses of my heart, I kept having the gnawing feeling like we needed to homeschool our kids.

I pleaded with God! "Please Lord, show me how to navigate these uncharted waters of raising my children up in the knowledge of Your Word, and P.S....I still don't want to homeschool them."

A week later, I was still trying to ignore the thought of the dreaded "homeschooling" option but I couldn't get it out of my mind.  I decided to really throw God a curve ball.

Knowing my husband was a fellow foe of homeschooling, I prayed another desperate prayer to God. "Lord,  if this whole homeschooling thing is really what you want us to do then I want you to confirm it in my husband.  I'm not going to say a single word about it to him.  I'm not even going to utter the word "homeschooling" in this house.  As far as I'm concerned it's full speed ahead, destination public school, unless I miraculously hear him tell me that we should teach our kids at home.  It's got to come right from his lips! Amen."

Well, I knew that was never going to happen so I went about with my week as usual.

Then out of the blue one day, my husband approached me.

He said, "I know this is going to sound totally crazy, but......"


TO BE CONTINUED...

Rejoicing in all Circumstances

Today my six year old decided to sprinkle thousands of teeny tiny beads all over her bedroom carpet so she could have an imaginary "celebration" with pretend confetti. 

Another child poured himself a bowl of cereal that would easily feed Paul Bunyan and his ox.

After school, the kids thought it would be great fun to get out all sorts of tools, an assortment of screws and nails, and the cordless drill.  Then they proceeded to take the wheels off of something in the garage.  After acquiring the parts they needed, they screwed and nailed the four wheels on to the bottom of our wooden saw horse and attached a roping dummy head to the top so they could rope the saw horse and drag it around the yard like a steer. They did all of this while I was folding laundry. And I just thought that they were playing nicely in the back yard. Rookie mistake. When the kids are quiet, there is sure to be mischief brewing.

Couple these things with spilled drinks, bickering children, incomplete assignments, and a hot ember from the wood stove that landed on the carpet and you have a mama that looks like this:

But before I felt like this,

I decided to take a deep breath and ask the Lord for some help with my attitude.  In hind sight, it seems silly to let the little things get to me, but at the time, they seemed like big, irritating problems.  After walking away, taking a few deep breaths and gaining some perspective, I was able to take it all in stride. I may not have handled it perfectly, but I tried to make the most out of what was thrown my way.

I thanked the Lord for my precious girls as I vacuumed up a million little beads from the carpet.  My son ate the bowl of cereal.  It took him until lunch, but he finally finished it.  I thanked God for my children's camaraderie and commended the kids for their creativity in making their own portable roping dummy.  

Yes, there were lessons to be taught! We learned about wastefulness, starving children, the importance of taking care of tools, putting things away, carelessness, etc....

Yes, there were consequences as well.

And of course, there is always a lesson for Mom, too.

I'm studying the book of Philippians right now, and it really spoke to me today.  There are only 4 short chapters in this book of the Bible, but they are full of important lessons.  The apostle Paul wrote the book of Philippians when he was sitting in a jail cell.  He didn't know whether he would live or die.  However, Paul didn't despair.  He rejoiced because he knew that his blessed Savior was indeed in control of everything!  He uses the words "joy" and "rejoice" 16 times in this little letter to the people of Philippi.

The bottom line: We can't let our emotions dictate our joy.  We must rejoice in all circumstances! Paul knew that God would work every trial he had for the advancement of the Kingdom of God.  God takes everything that happens to us, and works it for good. If Paul, a prisoner in chains, had reason to rejoice, then I should certainly be able to rejoice through spilled milk, beads in the vacuum, and tools in the yard.  Those aren't even trials.  They're more like little inconveniences.

Learning to rejoice in all circumstances,

Nell

Desert Beauty on Display

 While I was down in the valley, I decided to capture some "Spring" and "Sunshine" from the desert with my camera and share it with all of you who may have the winter blahs.

If only there was a scratch and sniff button...this blog would be way more amazing! Have you ever smelled the desert after a good rain? It's the most heavenly aroma! If you are ever traveling through the Arizona desert after a monsoon has passed, pull the truck over, roll down the windows, and fill your lungs with that intoxicating air.  It's unlike any other smell I've experienced. It will deeply enrich your day.

I may be a mountain girl by marriage, but I grew up in the Arizona desert and I appreciate its rugged beauty.

This time of year the desert comes alive with green grass and wildflowers.  Its allure is on full display!

(Click on the pictures to enlarge them.)

Gila Woodpecker

Here's proof that grass does indeed grow in the desert. It usually thrives under trees and in shadier spots.  Cows can get good and plump on spring grass in the desert, and they're masters at finding it!

Saguaro

This blog just wouldn't be complete without an Arizona sunset. This shot was taken from the Mogollon Rim.

Happy Tuesday!

Nell

"You Can't Stop a Freight Train..."

This was the big weekend! We left the frozen tundra of home and drove down to the valley where it was sunny and 72°F to run in our first 5K race. 

The weather was G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S!

Here we are with our good friends who inspired us to start jogging in the first place. Click here for the back story on how all of this running madness got started. After training in high elevation and the bitter cold all winter,  it was finally time to test our resolve!

The 3.1 mile course was set against the backdrop of  Papago Park.  The course had two hilly spots, but the Mt. Everest on our road that we jog up every week prepared us for those tough portions of the race.

As it turned out, we didn't do half-bad for our first race!  There were all types of people running, and the intimidation factor was high.  Some people had aerodynamic clothes, special sunglasses, weird gadgets and devices, and crazy running shoes.  The pre-race rituals were intense all around us, but we just stood there waiting for it to start. No pre-race stretching, or jumping around, or foot tapping from us mountain folk.  We just watched the circus around us until they blew the air horn.

We were off to a flying start with lightning speed! You can't stop a freight train when it's coming down the tracks!  Just kidding! Honestly, the race wasn't bad at all. I think we were pretty prepared for it.

My husband was the first of our group to cross the finish line with a time of 26 minutes.  He placed 60th over-all and 9th in his age group.

My time was 30 minutes, and I placed in the top 30% of my age group, coming in 7th.

We finally earned our colorful  Chinese Dragon T-Shirt! I'm really not a Dragon kind of girl, myself, but my husband (who has no shame) said that he doesn't care how ugly the shirt is.  He earned it, and he plans on wearing it at least once!

It will go great with his Wranglers. Not. LOL!

Our racing prize?

Why, a Dairy Queen Blizzard, of course!

We earned this one!

We are the Champions of the World!

Nell

Finding Beauty in the Winter Months

During the doldrums of the long winter when the world around me is shrouded in shades of brown and white, I look forward to little visits from our feathered friends.  They bring so much color and life to an otherwise gray day. 

I tried to keep my camera handy today to show you a few of the regulars around here.

A  couple of Steller's Jays frequently hang around outside my window in the mornings.

We can see the lake from our house, and have just started to hear the sounds of Canada Geese stopping by for their annual migratory visit.

A  few minutes later, it started to snow making my pictures blurry.

As I was taking pictures of the geese, my husband spotted another resident of the lake  high up in the tree in the photo below.

Here's a closer look.  Do you see the Bald Eagle?    

We are blessed to have many Bald Eagles that fish in our lake.  They fly directly over our house each evening with a fish in their talons as they make their way back to their nesting spot.  I'm going to try harder to get a good picture of them when it's not snowing and the weather is nicer.  They are such majestic birds of prey.

Look for the beauty in your world today!


Nell

The Spanglish is Flyin' in this House!

Spanglish:  part Spanish + part English = all wrong!

So...my kids are taking a Spanish class at our homeschool co-op.  After two weeks of lessons, their Spanish is like totally amazing!

Not.

The truth is that my three little white kids aren't pickin' up the language too well.

They don't sprechen sie Spanish.

No habla  Espanol.  No comprende.

El queso esta viejo y putrido. (The cheese is old and moldy.)

Name that movie!....

I digress....

We live in a state that borders Mexico, and I'm tickled that my kids are starting to learn Spanish. It really comes in handy around these parts.  For the last two weeks, my children have been "practicing" their foreign language skills with all of the family members, and it's been quite comical to say the least. None of my kids pronounce anything authentically. They all sound like they're from Arkansas.

(Did I ever tell you about the time I once went to a Taco Bell in Arkansas? Funniest thing ever! They pronounce everything wrong! They substitute a short "A as in apple" sound for everything on the menu...Taaacos, Naaaachos, Burrita)  Oh, and they don't put taco sauce on anything because, "People 'round them parts don't like their Taaaacos spicy.")


Back to the story....


The kids have been practicing their numbers and colors lately.

My daughter screams across the house, "Mom, what is ocho times nueve?"

My son chimes in before I can answer. "It's siete and dos".

(He hasn't learned any of the numbers past ten so he's developed some form of Spanish roman numeral system to try to say 72. Seven and two. Get it? Neither did I. It's ok.)  Hopefully, this week's lesson includes numbers beyond 10 or my children will continue to create their own.

Now I'm no expert in Spanish, myself.  I had 3 years of it in Jr. High/ High School and could only say enough to find the bathroom or get directions. That all changed when I started working in the agricultural industry.  Some of my Spanish speaking co-workers gave me a real education while I was working side by side with them in the barn.  After six months of "on the job training" I knew all of the Spanish cuss words, could tell someone off in Spanish with vigor and vibrato, and could order people around in Spanish like I was the boss.

Good times, good times.

I'm sad to say that in my decade of being a stay-at-home mother in this mountain town, my Spanish has turned rusty at best.  When people speak it, I can understand what they're saying, but I forget some of the words to respond back to them.  However, I've retained enough to know bad Spanish when I hear it.

So I'm trying to grin and bear it when the terrible Spanish flies around the house, hurting my ears like the sound of my Illinois farming Grandpa ordering Chimichangas from the Mexican Food restaurants here in Arizona.

Which reminds me of another story...

Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Ohio with my church youth group and my youth pastor wanted to take us out for Mexican Food at a place called Chi Chi's?  We refer to a woman's.....chest area....as her chi chi's around here so I was totally shocked when he said that! It seemed scandalous coming from my youth pastor. I was envisioning some sort of place with women of ill-repute or a restaurant like Hooter's. Nope. It was a totally legit' Mexican Food Restaurant. (But still...can Mexican Food really be that good in Ohio? That's a looong way from the border. I'm not saying it's impossible for Ohio to have good Mexican food...just improbable. If you're from Arizona and go to Ohio and think there's a place that has good Mexican Food, you have found a true diamond in the rough!)


Let's land this blog-post plane shall we? In conclusion.... I'm trying to have an extra measure of grace with my three children as they learn to roll their r's, and communicate in a foreign tongue. I am also trying not to burst out laughing when they speak to me with random Spanish words and sing Feliz Navidad repeatedly because it is the only song they know in Spanish.


Adios Amigos,

Nell


P.S.- Wow. My rambling was at an all time high in this post.  My brain is a very busy place.  Thanks for not leaving me despite my inability to focus on one thing.

"Do Something Small and Watch it Snowball"

I consider myself to be a recovering perfectionist.  I have "go big or go home" tendencies, and when I decide to do something, I sink my whole heart into it. I'm all in. On occasion, this can be a great quality to have.  When I choose to take something on, I'm usually quite proud of the outcome.  I'll work tirelessly to ensure that I've done something to the absolute best of my ability... something that at the end of the day, I'd gladly stand behind.

But perfectionism has an ugly side.  When I don't think I can be a huge success, win all the marbles, or be the best....I  sometimes choose to simply do nothing at all. It's every perfectionist's dirty little secret.  If we can't do it flawlessly and on a grand scale....we don't even attempt it.

The older I get, the more I'm learning that, although there is a time and place for doing monumental things, more often than not, something simple will suffice.  In fact, doing something small is, at times, better than not doing anything at all.

I'm changing my mentality.

I'm trying hard not to overlook the benefits of doing small things.

When I felt overwhelmed with the thought of jogging 3 miles, I didn't quit. The old me never would have attempted it, but the new me knows that even though I won't win the race, it's doing something good for my body. I started small by jogging for 1 minute. And then the next day, I jogged for two minutes, and so on.

This idea of micro-change spread into my eating habits. When I knew I needed to eat healthier, I didn't throw out all of the junk food in my house and go on a strict lettuce diet.  I just resolved to put some more vegetables on my plate at every meal. Slowly, I'm replacing junk food with healthier alternatives.

In my attempts to read through my Bible, the old me would have quit the first day that I got off track.  But when I can't read my daily 4 chapters, I just try for one. And if I forget today, then I jump back on the wagon tomorrow. I won't let perfectionism defeat me anymore.

The same mentality is spilling over into some other areas in my life.

As a perfectionist, I would read about the millions of widows and orphans in Africa and think that unless I had the wealth of Bill Gates, I couldn't possibly make a dent in the problem.  I'd look at the hoards of starving people and crumple with defeat, knowing that I can't save them all. I would start to feel that unless I sold everything I owned and moved to Africa to be on the front lines, my efforts were in vain.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of need.

But I've stopped the "all or nothing" attitude. It kept me on the side-lines and incapacitated me for far too long.

I believe that as Christians we should be willing to sell everything we own and move to Africa...if that' what God is calling us to do. But he might not be calling us to do that!  I can't allow fear of failure or the need for perfection  to paralyze me from doing something good for the Kingdom of God.

My new motto: Do something small, and watch it snowball!

God might not be calling us to save millions of people, but He may call us to adopt just one orphan.  Even if he hasn't called us to adopt a child right now, he commands us in His Word to take care of widows and orphans.  Our response to that command could look a hundred different ways.  We could financially sponsor orphans who we may never meet this side of  Heaven.  We could also do something as small as writing letters of reference for friends who are going through the adoption process.  We can support those families with prayer and meals and service while they make their difficult adoption journeys. It may seem like very little in the grand scheme of things, but everything helps. Every single life is important to Jesus!

Maybe we haven't ever brought a widow into our home, but we can certainly support organizations that give micro-business loans and training to help widows get back on their feet and support themselves.

We may not be called to be on the front lines of missionary work, but perhaps we can send supplies, and financial support to those who already have "boots on the ground" in places of need.

I'm convinced that these small and seemingly insignificant actions have the potential to snowball into something much greater.  In fact, we may never know their true impact!

I'm not going to waste my time waiting around thinking of something HUGE I can do for God, and beating myself up for failing to do something massive and awe-inspiring.  I just want to take every opportunity to do small things as often as possible, and then pray that God will multiply my efforts and grow fruit from the tiny seeds that have been sewn.

After all....

"Anyone can count the seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed." -Robert Schuller