In the Right Place

It’s amazing how much we Americans tie into our sports.   In the midst of a struggling economy, we laud sports athletes and pay ungodly sums of money to people for, in essence, succeeding at playing children’s games.  So I feel bad about my euphoria these last two Sundays after seeing the Steelers and the Colts win.   Shame on me.   Well, I’ll redeem myself by stopping by Karen’s to comfort her since the Cowboys took a last-minute beating (smile).

We are two weeks away from a three-week break.   This will be our last full week as, on next week, I plan to just allow the kids to get the work done that is a priority in terms of scheduling.    I was so proud of myself that this has perhaps been the first year that we were close to on track, whatever that means, in every subject.   Historically, I wind up woefully behind in science after not being up-to-speed on my “common household items,” and we started late with history this year after finishing late on last year, and we were away from home for 1-1/2 weeks following the hurricane (though we had some form of school while we were away).   Being this close to a penciled-in halfway mark is quite an accomplishment.   It’s worn me out, but I’m crashing with a smile on my face, you know?

Our pastor has been preaching a series for a while now entitled ‘Change Your Mind, Change Your World.’   It’s been illuminating for me learning about the process of salvation, and how, when we struggle with issues, we slip into doubt about so many things.   This doubt can include questioning whether or not we were truly saved if the situation gets bad enough.     When it comes to homeschooling, I know that I’ve slipped into a pity party a time or two when things are not going well, though thankfully, I’ve grown wiser about the harm of staying there.    In fact, staying upbeat and focused because of, and sometimes in spite of, the reality of the homeschool day is one of the reasons I continue to blog.    I’ve had dear friends who have left Blogland and/or cut off the ability to comment, considering it gadding about (see 1 Timothy 5:13).   I really mulled this over because the good Lord knows that I don’t need one more distraction; gossiping and being idle were not my motivations to start a blog.   However, I realized that I truly needed to be here.      I needed to get out and to realize that I’m not alone.   Just recently, I saw an entry of a mom with small children posting their artwork.   I resisted the urge to compare (one of those harmful things I spoke of earlier), but instead chose to experience her words and her memories, and even to laugh in the knowledge that a five-year-old’s picture is what it is: a masterpiece to him/her, and a memory to you.   So I reviewed my youngest’s latest entries in her self-made picture dictionary with fresh eyes and realized that I needed to lighten up and let her be who she is.  Several months back I read a post from a mom (I wish I could remember who) who composed a wonderful entry in which she likened the homeschooling journey of her then-graduating senior to the layers of the Grand Canyon: some red and rocky, some yellow-orange and smooth, but altogether beautiful.    I’m reminded of it each time I start to stress with the not-so-perfect days, and I’ve had a slew of them lately.   I might not be able to back up and see it right now, but my palate is becoming increasingly magnificent as well.  

I needed to see the blogs of several of you who have children and grandchildren who have dedicated a significant portion of their young lives to missions.    Just last Friday, for one of their current events summaries, both of the older kids chose to write a summary of an article about a family who was trapped in Mumbai during the recent massacre.   The family, an African-American family with children the same age as ours are, crawled under the bed and were stuck in their room for 48 hours minus a very quiet trip to the mini-bar and an occasional stretch.    They cried out to God and used their iPhones to contact their pastor, the U.S. Embassy and others.   When they were finally told by the hotel staff that it was safe to come out, amazingly they were the only survivors on their entire floor.    Our son completed his summary with tears in his eyes, saying that as he read, God confirmed his plans to become a CIA agent (he’s talked about this for years now).   In his heart, he wants to stop these kinds of senseless murders, and like the children and grandchildren I’ve been privileged to read about, he believes he can make a difference.  If you’d like, you can read the article here.

So thanks for being faithful in documenting your journey.    Your stories, no matter how small or insignificant to you, are a blessing.    I look forward to continuing to learn and to grow in grace in wisdom—because of Jesus, and because of you.