I was slipping into the dark abyss.
My fingernails scratched the side of the dark tube I was falling. I was trying to hold on, to stop myself from falling. Nothing worked.
I fell faster and further and landed with a painful thump. Sitting in the dirt, I tried to take stock of my situation to figure out what to do next.
I couldn’t climb my way out of this pit. Bits of dirt fell out of the walls when I tried to pull myself up with my own strength,
I sat down again, discouraged.
What do I do next?
I sat on the couch, the kids running in circles around me. The dog followed them, stopping to eat a puzzle piece that had fallen on the ground.
“He’ll throw that up later,” I thought, but I stayed where I was, slouched on the couch, watching the commotion.
How had homeschooling become so complicated?
Welcome to February.
And it is to you, dear homeschooling parent, that I send out a blimp in the sky, something that you will notice amidst the noise. “What is that?” you wonder, looking up, up at some shape you can barely recognize high up in the sky.
The dishes have piled up again, and secretly, you find yourself wondering more and more often what it would feel like to don work clothes and to wave “Goodbye!” to the kids each morning with a smile and a wave. Next year? (The rest of THIS homeschooling year . . . ? What WOULD that be like . . . ) You are lost in a daydream again.
We try to shake ourselves awake. We walk to the next room in a half-hearted effort to clean up. The piles of half used, forgotten curriculum mocks you from every room you pass. “Ha! You didn’t finish me either!” it yells at you.
The kids are happy, delighted. They kiss you as they soar past, trying out a new paper airplane they designed, as they throw it, again, from the top of the stairs, laughing.
They stop to offer you a kiss. “Do you want a cup of water?” they ask sweetly, wanting, in their limited way, to help you. They have a look of concern in their eyes. They know that mommy doesn’t feel “regular” today. These are good kids.
But even they can’t help you climb out of your pit.
The pull of February drowns out their voices. Their words sound muffled, far away.
The martini that you have never actually drunk but that entices you as a far-off reward for someday doesn’t cut it today.
Dirt falls from the side of the walls and won’t hold your weight when you try pulling yourself out of this pit with a promised martini.
Maybe you can wait here, sit in your despair until spring, you wonder?
You look up at the top of the pit. “How can the light reach way, way down here?” you wonder.
I will be writing a series of posts, dear homeschooling parent, to help you through the February blues.
In February, the long winter stretches out with no Christmas in sight. The rest of the school year seems long, long away.
If you haven’t felt discouraged yet, you probably will.
(Shh… God is holding a ticket out of here for you. Do you see Him? But the only way out of this pit is if He transforms you so you have wings. Are you ready to fly?)
Stay tuned to this series of posts to help you:
(1) Not be surprised at the February homeschooling blues when they knock at your door and come in uninvited,
(2) Allow God to transform YOU (not your kids), and
(3) Better align with a way to homeschool that puts a smile back on your face.
Are you ready to soar?
He energizes those who get tired,
The Message
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
Restoring Life 