Our True (Homeschooling) North To Keep On The Best Track

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Lawe Homeschooling Manifesto

But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women.
It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love,
And don’t take yourself too seriously – take God seriously. The Message

1. To Enjoy – We want to have fun with and enjoy our children while we have them in our home.

2. To Think – We want our children to develop critical thinking before entering the mindset of this culture.

3. To Love – We wish to bond with our children in a stronger way, and to avoid peer orientation.

  • [Love] comes forth out of a relationship which has to grow and deepen. We can even say that the love between parents and children develops and matures to the degree that they can reach out to each other and discover each other as fellow human beings, who have much to share and whose differences in age, talents and behaviour are much less important than their common humanity. Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life
  • We forget how deeply they grieved as little ones… there is no greater cause of unhappiness than the lack of parental sympathy (i.e. What is it like to be in their shoes?) Clay Trumbull, Hints on Child Training
  • You will never have a better friend than a 3 year old. Clay Trumbull, Hints on Child Training

4. To Grow -We want our children to grow in wisdom.

Remember: in order for a perception to change one must be frustrated in one’s actions or change one’s purpose

Neil Postman, Teaching as a Subversive Activity



Dancing In Life = Community Praying For Us (Ready, Yet, To Dance?)

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

My dog looked up at me quizzically.

I have been giving him treats for “staying” and lying down in one position for more than a minute or two.

One ear cocked to the side, yawning sometimes – the dog’s instinctual response to say, “I’m trying to understand you here!” – sometimes excitedly getting it.

But most of the time, he stares at me, wondering how to get more treats.

And this is a perfect example of what we are like as we come before God.

He has something to give to us. The analogy breaks down here because God doesn’t simply tempt us with crumbs but has the full banqueting table to offer. But you get the point.

My dog sometimes forgets about me and my rewards and lies down distractedly.

And then I give him a treat.

And doesn’t that happen to us too? We forget about God, go about our business, and then we hear His heart whispering. He offers us food when we least expect it.

Well done, God comforted me, excitedly offering me a food reward. Huh? “What the . . .” I had just woken up. In my heart, I looked up at God, my head cocked to the side, confused.

He comforted me in His love, in His presence.

What was I doing right? I stumbled to the coffee machine, trying to put the puzzle together. The machine brewed, and God poured delight into my heart as the coffee machine poured delight into my cup. I scratched my head, trying to figure out why God was pleased with me.

I listened to HIS cues.

I responded to HIS call to obey.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd.

The Message

He had been asking me to wake early, to write, to offer this page of food to you, dear reader.

And I obeyed.

That’s it.

Regardless of outcomes as defined by our culture, in God’s eyes, this writing is a success because it is motivated by obedience. Like a child with a crooked, smudged, stick-figure drawing, the parent is pleased with her art. God, the parent, is pleased with our crooked efforts at responding to His whispers.

And what you are seeing is the actor on the stage, the polished version of me for you to read about.

  1. God says write.
  2. I write.
  3. Applause.
  4. End of show.

But behind the scenes, there is chaos. An entire repertoire of people, those on lights and sound, and the director helped me look polished for you. They cried tears, remade the costumes, and helped me fit into my new identity.

I offer credit where credit is due:

1. Thank you to our friend who scared back the monsters intimidating me and offered me his hand. “Stand,” he said. And he prayed passionately that day in our kitchen, “She is about the King’s business!” he declared.

And I believed him. And I exchanged another piece of my old heart, the one linked to how people judge my life, for a princess robe. And I danced in joy.

And You danced with me, Jesus. Keep dancing, you whispered. Keep following Me where I lead child, regardless of what they say.

And I’m still dancing.

2. Thank you to my husband, the giant man. When I was in the metaphorical hide out, the place I shouldn’t have been, God led him to find me. He ducked to half his height to enter the place that held me captive.

When he entered, the evil shapes fled. He is not scared of the same things I am. His lack of fear terrifies them.

“Come, friend,” he offered, holding out his hand. “Don’t be afraid.” And he held me in his arms and comforted me as I wept. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

And there wasn’t. Because he regularly prays I will dance in freedom, in that grassy place. And so I do.

3. And I say thank you to so many of my friends. You prayed for me. And you told me what you thought God was saying to me, though you didn’t always understand.

And I took those pieces, precious as each one was, and I thought and considered and prayed and placed them into the puzzle of my life. Thank you. I honor you.

4.And I thank you for the eagle you sent, Jesus, who swooped down and woke me and fed me. “Get up.” She nudged me, and I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep.

But she was persistent, unphased by my life’s lack of spiritual success.“Try this food,” she suggested. I tossed that aside, too. I wasn’t used to the taste.

She tried milk, and I drank it with relish. I was thirsty. Later on, my stomach could hold a bite or two of meat. I was growing up.

“How is your time of worship?” she asked me again, and again, and again. Finally, I could answer her to say that I am learning to abide more frequently in Your presence. And the next time I danced, I held the sceptre you gave me, Holy Spirit.

And so thank you, Jesus, for the many, many actors behind the scenes of our lives.

Thank you for those who pray for us.

Join us in prayer?

Living Joyfully – Be A Liar, Nutcase, And Tyrant!?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

So one day I’m sitting on the couch, head in hands, overwhelm consuming me.

The next day I’m dancing.

What was the path that took me from there to here?

Good question!

I’m glad you asked.

Here are the key stepping stones that led me across the river, onto a narrower path, without so many hurdles.

1. Pretend to be sick when you aren’t

What I mean is, if a few sniffles and a “headache” can help your kids bring you tea, quietly close the door behind them, and get all their homeschooling work (mostly) done in a hurry to “help” you out, then isn’t that just a helpful parenting strategy?

Yes, they may play a few more video games that day, but sometimes we have to negotiate with the enemy (is there perhaps a more precise word here?)!

And how do we need fewer “emotionally unstable” or “sick” days? This is the obvious question we want to ask ourselves as the mature adults that we are. We don’t want to HAVE to lie (I prefer the term “play pretend”) to our kids quite so often. What I’ve learned is the following:

2. Try not to be such a nutcase

Oh, come ON, admit it! You ARE a nutcase, too! I haven’t met even ONE homeschooling parent, for example, who didn’t start this way.

We start our homeschooling adventure with our new homeschooling planners (I have paid up to $99.99 for mine – a VERY expensive calendar with a bunch of blank paper inside).

We ALL start with our new, sharp pencils and energy overflowing from within. We purchase a shiny new curriculum or textbook and dutifully divide the book into 36 weeks, the total number of weeks in a school year. When we have completed this exercise with our stack of texts, we wipe the sweat from our brow and think – GREAT! I know EXACTLY what my kids will be learning on March 16, next year!

We pour ourselves a martini and wait for the homeschooling year to start.

What we forgot is that we are teaching little Machiavellis.

We also forgot that we are nutcases, and unfortunately, for 99.999% of us, we OVER-estimated our kids and our energy levels after Christmas.

Plus, they STILL cry every day when we do math.

And we are still in our pyjamas.

Another “sick” day, anyone?

Noooooo! That’s not for you!

We listen. We reattach our ears. We get down on our knees and humbly beg our God to give us wisdom in parenting in exchange for the promises each curriculum provides (none of it works anyway).

We ask for ONE or maybe TWO areas of prayer for each child. Oh, and for us.

God’s priorities will not be those we choose for our kids. We prioritize hockey and extra math lessons so that EVERY KID born in this country will be in the NBA (or whatever the popular sports leagues are) and have myriad universities begging them to attend.

Instead, we humbly exchange our vanity, linked to our child’s successes, for God’s chosen priorities for them.

And His priorities for us are interior postures of the heart, a heart sickness within each of our kids, and in us to focus on. Lying? Selfishness? Bickering? Jealousy?

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

The Message

The other stuff comes.

Look at our family. We stink at looking good when we are homeschooling, and yet even our children have astonishing accolades! Maybe that’s just because homeschooling kids give hope to our culture.

Whatever.

The point is that when they leave the house, you’ll suddenly realize it matters a lot more than you initially thought that your kids are kind instead of culturally amazing. And then the nut doesn’t fall far from the tree! Just like a clean house, exceptional kids lacking in character are DEFINITELY overrated.

3. Become a tyrant

It’s the kids who are born as tyrants, but if you become a tyrant, there is order in the home. Then the true skill we need to learn next is how to become a tyrant to ourselves. We need to grow in the skill of bossing OURSELVES around.

When we show up at a paid job, in our office clothes and clipboard, we say “Yes Ma’am!”, do what we are told, then come home exhausted and put our feet up.

But when we show up on our first day of homeschooling, for example, no terrifying boss threatens to fire us each day.

It’s easy for us and our kids to stay in our pyjamas.

Learning to manage our own time is a skill.

Shout out to Mystie Winckler, who helped me a lot here.

Essentially, what is the MINIMUM work that needs to get done by my kids and by me? CHECKING my kid’s work is MY JOB I need to do, whether I feel like it or not. How am I doing with that job?

And if you find you are in overwhelm again? No problem, dear friend.

1. Declare another sick day!

2. Pray a LOT!

3. Learn a couple of tangible skills to proactively manage the ship!

It’s all about rhythms, and this is your rhythm, Mom, Dad.

Don’t give up!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

A Geyser of Intuition Suggested Homeschooling – Top 9 Hints To Listen For

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

When do we jump from a sinking ship and when do we bail frantically to save our lives?

When do we decide that the public school system is broken enough that it can’t be fixed and jump ship to homeschooling? When do we stay in the school system, attend PTA meetings and volunteer as a playground supervisor? When do we put our kids in the public school system and do our best to bail out the ship?

How am I supposed to know?

But who wants to screw up their kids?

When my soul welled up with reasons to seriously consider homeschooling, flooding cultural expectations for my life, this is some of what it said:

1. Before we had kids, I would hear something about homeschooling and a random tear would erupt, sliding slowly down my cheek. What was going on? (If you have a lump in your throat right now, you’re done for. Just sayin’. Stay in your pyjamas today to get used to it because you should be homeschooling soon.)

2. A kid tried to beat me up on my way home from school in Grade 3. What was that about? I was “the kindest, most empathetic person” a teacher had “encountered in a long time” (verbatim wording from my report card). Is there any way to spare our kids from UNNECESSARY pain?

Sure, they WILL experience pain, but if we know they will get beat up with a baseball bat emotionally, spiritually or (even) physically day after day, can we at not, at least, flip a coin to see if there are other ways to learn the alphabet?

3. And there were those times when I would walk home from grocery shopping with my mom, hand in hand. We would sing songs. This was most cherished memory of my childhood.

It wasn’t expensive. It wasn’t complicated. How could we live to have a few more of those kinds of moments?

4. Then I read the parenting classic Hold Onto Your Kids by Neufeld and Mate. Their words were a confirmation, like check marks on my intuition. Maybe we AREN’T supposed to structure society so that kids and teens spend most of their time with people exactly the same age as them.

5. And what if some of the ideas we hold dear as a culture, the general beliefs, are wrong? If another culture’s beliefs are (obviously to us) wrong, some of our culture’s commonly held beliefs WILL BE wrong too. Which ones?

Maybe the way we currently do school?

6. Maybe kids DON’T need the latest cultural clothing styles as defined by other kids their same age. Maybe a second-hand sweater will do.

7. Maybe kids don’t need their own menus of sugar and hyper-processed foods. Healthy food habits WILL get pulled down to an outlandish level in a culture of extreme bizarreness, of kids eating two-thirds of their diet as highly processed foods. As much as we wax on about eating healthily, stepping into another culture, home, where everyone eats a bowl of soup at lunch is a realistic way to instil normal food habits.

Oh, and this may even help heal various diagnoses, as it did in our home, and as science is increasingly suggesting.

8. It’s COMMON but perhaps not NORMAL for pre-pubescents to ideate about sex. If you are ready to be challenged about this, check out The Disappearance of Childhood by Neil Postman, which was written 40 YEARS ago. Ouch.

Schools are increasingly mimicking the culture of Brave New World (so my middle school substitute teacher friend asserts), but it’s our kids who suffer there.

9. The cons of both homeschooling and public schooling swam around my thoughts.

It was time for us to jump ship, to swerve onto a narrower road. How about you? Is it time for your family to jump ship? Do you sense the pull of your heart towards giving homeschooling a try?

We have to wean ourselves off the cultural drugs that addict us to the wrong desires first.

Our status in society may drop precipitously. We will have to pick up a new identity, one others may gawk at. The old identity, defined by perhaps lots of stuff, expensive vacations, and value in corporate America (i.e. a job in exchange for money!) may no longer stick with us.

Welcome to the wild ride!

Prepare to be scared, and to laugh, and to cry. But God will cheer you on from the sidelines, give you food to strengthen, and usher in your transformation.

Because this spiritual journey isn’t just for our kids.

Cmon! Let’s go!

Here’s some food to strengthen you for the journey.

Blogpost Footnotes

Since this post was written, a teen in our community died from a drug overdose. Also, I received a text from a local nurse that youth age 12 – 14 using meth is the new normal. Sheltering kids for a few more years, using whatever resources are available to us, is becoming increasingly important.

Oh, and homeschooling is the cool, new thing, and we should always try to fit in, right?

Is God Calling You To Read This?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

And so, why am I writing this blog?

I am writing this blog for you. This blog is a gift from the Father to you through me. And by you, I don’t mean you, necessarily.

You will know who you are – the you I am writing this blog for.

Is it you?

Or maybe you don’t yet know if you are you as you read a few lines and move on to something else.

But for YOU – there is something here that you need. So I write for you. Except that I don’t know anything about you – your tastes, hobbies, needs, or soul yearnings.

But God asked me to write. And so I write. I write for you.

I write because He whispered in my ear. I could almost sense Him one day in the library, excited. He wanted to show me something. I looked blankly at the wall of books.

He seemed to be saying that He wanted the voice of His children to create books for these shelves.

I believe He wants to flood the earth with books about His Kingdom written by His people.

He was planting a seed in me, showing me His heart, opening a bit of heaven’s storehouses to see a tiny glimpse of the treasures He wants to give us if only we can lift our eyes to see.

Write, He seemed to be saying.

But like Moses, I protest.

The soil of my heart where God so gently planted a seed is dry. The seed cannot penetrate the earth.

I tell no one what He has been saying. The soil is too hard.

But God brings the rain.

At the women’s breakfast with our church, she prays for me. “I don’t know what this means,” she begins, “but I feel like God is giving you a pen. And the ink is the Holy Spirit. As you write, the ink of Holy Spirit will guide you.”

And I weep and weep because her words touch the deepest layer of my heart, the part with the ear that only You have whispered to.

Can it be true?

Have I correctly been hearing from You? It took one of your beloveds to dig into the soil, turn it over afresh, and whisper into my ear confirmation of what Holy Spirit had already been saying. Write.

And so I write.

And if you are the one I am writing for, welcome. It is good to meet you. May these words feed your soul. For they came from the Father and pass, garbled, through my hands. I apologize for mixing up the words, ignoring what I should have written, and writing something else instead. For erasing what should have been left and for the messiness of this page.

But may you, even through the dirty, ripped page, be encouraged somehow.

For that is His way.

My heart is to obey in joy. May a few of these words encourage you, dear friend. And may you also, one day, hear more clearly what He is saying to you, so He can bless others, through you, with His voice, as well, garbled and mixed up, as we may understand it with our broken ears and our broken desires.

We endeavour to speak to the world what we think He may be saying. May many seeds from the dirt that we throw earnestly to the wind land on soil already moistened by Holy Spirit

For that is His way.

God said [to Moses,] My presence will go with you. I’ll see the journey to it’s end.

The Message

God, help us to plant the seeds of Your voice whispering to our hearts. Help us to scatter seeds afar of the life that has unfolded because we chose to walk with You.

And God, bring the rain, we pray. For this is the only way life can arise from the dust of our lives.

Consider asking God, what is one step I can take today to align my life to Your vision of who I am as I learn to walk more closely by your side?

The Dark Abyss Is Where Joy Can Be Found

/ Lori Lawe / 2 Comments

This is the hand that reached way, way down, clasped my own and lifted me up, up out of my self-induced pit.

It was a hand connected to a person who gave me a hug and a pat on the back. He told me He was pleased with me.

And then He asked me to go back to the trenches, back to where I was.

Why? Just because we are at war doesn’t mean our role is to give up the fight.

He put a slip of paper in my hand before he held out the rope to lower, lower me back down the pit, back down to the kids with their swirling needs and to a dog with multiple dietary discomforts.

When I returned to the couch and to the kids and the dog that day, I held the folded slip of paper He had given me in my hand.

I opened it carefully and somehow the room quieted in my soul, even through the sharp noises of bickering kids and an excited dog.

So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit.

The Message

The words seemed to dissipate the storm cloud over my head. Was that sunlight breaking through? I looked up.

“Can you help me up off the couch?” I asked, looking up at Him. And He did.

And He tied my favorite shoes on my feet, the ones I thought I had lost. The shoes meant for dancing.

I already had my apron on, the one that I wear when I work.

And His gaze pointed to the next job, one that we would do together, Him at my side, the arm I held onto for balance.

And then, after the kids and I cleaned up a bit, and I cleaned myself up a bit, our homeschooling family read a book together on the couch.

The book I love that I longed to introduce to my children.

When she was hardly more than a girl, Miss Minnie had gone away to a teacher’s college and prepared herself to teach by learning many cunning methods that she never afterward used. For Miss Minnie loved children and she loved books, and she taught merely by introducing the one to the other.

That Distant Land by Wendell Berry

And then we did some math.

And when the kids were tucked into bed that night, after dreaming longingly of martinis for a while, I poured out my heart to God.

And He got a big red pen, the one that I use on my kids to edit their writing, and He edited my life.

This has got to go. This too. And this.

He gave me one or two things to focus on this season, one for each child and one for me.

And it got a little easier.

I was the one who needed to change, to tweak our homeschooling life so that joy could erupt through the cracks of the brokenness of our lives a little more often.

Thank you, God, for the hard times.

For only then am I broken and quiet enough for You to usher in my transformation.

Consider asking God what wounds He wants you to lift to Him so He can remove the bandaid to allow light to shine through the scar, blinding others so they too, may seek their healing.

Want Less Friction In Your Relationships? Two Nonsense Words Will Help!

/ Lori Lawe / 5 Comments

We were preparing our family to go skiing for the first time this year.

Only two people had mini meltdowns. Yes, one of them was an adult. Frustration levels were rising as we tried to find all our stuff.

We THOUGHT we had checked our daughter’s gear to make sure it fit from last year, but we forgot that she grew like a troll, and her skis were now only about half the correct size.

The only helmet we could find for one daughter was so big that she needed several thick toques under it for her to see when she was skiing.

We made do.

When we arrived at the hill (yes, I’m just venting now- who says writing isn’t cathartic?), one daughter snapped her boot into her ski. Snap. It fit.

The other boot wouldn’t snap into the bindings, and on closer inspection, we realized that although we paid a LOT of money for the guy at the hill to turn the screw so that the bindings fit the correct size of her foot, apparently, he only did this for ONE of her boots. Not for the other. Did I mention that our province recently legalized pot and that everyone seems to smoke it?

Enough said.

So we were frustrated.

And yes, marriage is just like that. It’s a lot like preparing to go skiing on the first day of the year. A lot can go wrong!

Thankfully, we have the following two nonsense words to share with you to save* your marriage:

1. sorryf’r – A contraction from the full “I’m sorry for . . . ” The details of what exactly we are sorry for are unspecified and undescribed. This word is used a lot in our marriage.

Like, every day.

By both of us.

An example would be “sorryf’r” after I accidentally kicked you while trying to get my ski boots on because I (honestly) didn’t see you walking past me. Or “sorryf’r” drinking the rest of the coffee cream because I didn’t want to share. I felt bad afterwards, though, if that counts.

It means that I know that I am an idiot – a lot.

And I know that you are an idiot, too.

We don’t overanalyze or even discuss details to describe WHAT exactly we are apologizing for. We don’t have to. The beauty of this phrase is as long as BOTH people remember that we have married dorks and that we each do dorky things ALL the time, well, we don’t dwell on that.

We move on.

And now I will teach you the correct response to sorryf’r.

2. yaIknow – A contraction from the full “Yeah, I know.” This means, as per sorryf’r, that I KNOW I’m an idiot a lot of the time, and I know that I mess up, and let’s move on, okay? Yes, you also are an idiot!

Can we change the subject yet?

And then we move on.

What’s for lunch? We forget about all the “stuff” and “incidents” and “offenses” and “infractions” that occurred before and after and around those words. Having low expectations for each other saves a LOT of grief.

Give it a try!

Have low expectations for your spouse!

Oh, and for you, too.

In another blogpost, we continue the skiing metaphor, discussing two acronyms for moderate and expert skiers only. Have you mastered the groomed ski runs of the sorryf’r and the yaIknow? If so, move on to the next post.

“. . . we’ve compiled this long and sorry record as sinners . . . and proved that we are utterly incapable of living the glorious lives God wills for us”

The Message

In (some) seriousness, God, help us to have the humility to know we need to forgive and to be forgiven a LOT. And in (less) seriousness, help us to take ourselves and our spouses a LOT less seriously. Thank you for your continual spirit of forgiveness towards us, should we turn towards you to receive this from your outstretched hand.

The song below is about an ancient king named Manasseh. He needed forgiveness for being a jack(what?) at a 100% level, but God extended this grace to him, too! As the song below plays, let’s consider asking God where WE (not our spouses) consistently trip up in our marriages.

And let’s reach out to receive Jesus’ hand of forgiveness to wash our lives so we each can smell a bit sweeter to our partner.

Blogpost Footnotes

* Or destroy. Results not guaranteed.

This post is part of our Say-It-Again On Friday series, where we say it again, on Fridays!

Anyone Else Want To Dance In February Instead Of Sit In Despair?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

As mentioned last time, my head was in my hands, a cloud of despair surrounding me, weighing me down.

Regardless of how I was feeling, I had to make a choice. Do I take another fun pill, declare another ski day, to distract from this swirling pit beneath me, my life, that threatened to consume me?

Or did I put on my work pants, and get busy constructing a new life for myself and for my homeschooling family, one that we would have the strength to complete all the way from September to June?

And you? Is anyone else feeling the February pull into that familiar black hole of despair?

How do we dance in joy through the dark month of winter?

1. We lift our despair, scoop as much as we can in our hands, and we lift this offering to God.

2. We listen. We reattach our ears. We practice the habits that are the glue helping our ears to stay stuck.

3. We tell others in our trusted community what we think the spirit of God is whispering. The sounds are muffled and garbled, and the sound waves pass through our hearts mixed with wrong motives, so we have trouble understanding.

4. We look for our dancing shoes. Where are they again? Where are those dreams? Where did we last leave them? Who did God say I am, again?

5. We gingerly take His hand and step onto the dance floor of our lives. He is in the lead, not us. Will we humbly let him lead our lives? Will we give up our right to drive our own car and our accompanying future car wrecks to learn how to dance?

The choice is yours. The choice is mine.

Come on, friend! The adventure of a lifetime awaits us! Get up off that couch!

God, all of us long for a good father who holds out a hand to help us up when we fall. The one who has everything we need to open the right door of opportunity for our future lives.

You are that Father.

Open our eyes to see this.

May we trust You more deeply. Help us get off the couch to escape from the lies we believe about ourselves and our lives.

You alone offer us genuine hope for our futures.

May we have the courage to step onto the dance floor with You.

Teach us to dance.

As you meditate on the words below and listen to the song below, take deep breaths and practice quieting your heart before God.

You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I’m about to burst with song;
I can’t keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can’t thank you enough.

The Message

Cry out to Him. What gift do you imagine He is giving you?

Quiet your heart again, and then ask God how He sees you. What do you feel? What does your mind imagine?

Is it time to look for some dancing shoes?

Don’t Despair! The Monster Scaring You Is Only February!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Head in hands again. Trying to shut out the noise. The kids with their needs swirling around me.

We are homeschooling in February.

I sat on the couch, overwhelm consuming me. Do I declare (another) fun day and take the kids cross-country skiing?

Should we call all our homeschooling friends and organize (another) hockey party on the free outdoor ice rink?

Do I give them as much “independent work” as I can and try to tackle the mess of stuff in the basement, the pile that seems to have acquired a life of its own and that roars at me as I pass like a Yeti in the basement?

Or do I confront the emotions in my heart that are spilling out onto the couch next to me, a mess I am trying to hide but that is emerging despite my best efforts to pretend I am confidently steering this homeschooling ship?

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to hide behind the fun. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that our home is so disorganized that we can no longer find pencils to do our math. Or that no one cares. “I like using a green pencil crayon for math, Mommy!” she asserts.

She is not trying to make me feel better. She is genuinely happy. Her needs are met.

And mine?

“I’m not worried about the kids,” my husband would assert. “I’m worried about you.”

So I offer you tea and a listening ear, dear homeschooling Mom and Dad, and ask:

How are you?

Not how are your kids?

Not how is the state of your home (We know it’s a disaster. You homeschool!)

How are you?

People who suppress feelings experience less positive and more negative emotions.

APA PsycNet

And then your tears, and your head in hands, and I put my arm around you to comfort you.

Husbands, put on a helmet first and then TRY asking your wives if PMS is real.

You know the answer, or you will find out soon enough.

Similarly, the homeschooling in February blues is real.

I want to propose (shout out to Mystie Winckler for the essence of this paragraph’s wisdom!) that the path we walk through the regular monthly cycling of our emotions gives us a hint for how we walk through the annual cycling of our feelings during the homeschooling year.

And February is hard.

Now, I know that you don’t have time for a dissertation. Your child is pulling your arm already, something is burning on the stove, and you have dog vomit to clean up, but you need some help. Now.

Don’t quit homeschooling in February.

If you take the advice of the sentence above, then go! Go and get through the day! Well done, Mom and Dad!

If you have another 5 minutes, here is an explanation for the statement above.

When sailors would navigate using the stars, how would they do it? They would choose their course on a cloudless, moonlit night. “I am heading north-east,” they would assert, and set their hearts and sails in that direction.

On a cloudy night, when the stars were invisible, and they didn’t know which way to go, what did they do?

They kept sailing in the same direction.

February, head in our hands month, is a cloudy night, desolation.

Ignatius describes desolation as “. . . darkness of soul, . . . the unquiet of different agitations and temptations, . . . when one finds oneself . . . as if separated from his Creator and Lord.” . . .

Ignatius warns us that someone in desolation should never change an important decision . . . made when they were in a state of consolation.

The Jesuit Post

Keep sailing in the same direction.

How do you do it? How do you survive one more day, you ask desperately? I’ll give you some tips, held like cherished gems in my pocket from long years on the sea, at another time, friend, because our time together has ended for today.

But oh, desolation is an opportunity for our growth.

May you reach your destination.

However, you may not end up where you thought you were sailing.

That is His way.

It’s The Women Who Suffer In A Culture That Promotes Abortion

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

We don’t see them, the women, head in hands, often alone in their apartments, suffering.

They suffer through the choice of, the procedure of, and the after-effects of their abortions. We don’t see them for a few days, but that is nothing new. We don’t see many friends or family members for a few days.

We didn’t notice.

We don’t hear them either, crying into their pillows, muffling their grief.

We don’t know their stories because it is not easy for them to speak about. The pain lies hidden deep in their hearts, placated by medication in the terrible times. Who wants to dive into the depths of the human heart and open Pandora’s box of pain that lies within?

We didn’t notice their cries because much pain emerges silently.

What TRULY is best for the woman?

What if we set aside the unwanted child within her womb, the man who is in or out of her life, societal expectations – everything? Let’s set everything aside and focus on the woman.

On her.

On you.

I see you. I feel your pain, though I may not know you. I hear you crying, though I have never met you.

I have an inkling of the pain that you feel because I feel it, too, in a different sort of way.

I am an adoptive parent.

I also, like you, have cried the anguished tears of a woman who is not in control of the timing of when a child enters her life. I too have shed tears for the unfulfilled longings of my heart, though different from yours.

I, too, have suffered grief because of the child.

But this is not about me.

This is about you.

Should you be the one to pay for the abortion procedure, handing over your savings to get it done?

What about the man?

Would a sperm say to a father, ‘Who gave you permission to use me to make a baby?’

The Message

He pockets his savings, perhaps buying more beers for his friends. He is still drinking, having fun, eyeing up the next woman at the bar while you are at home, alone, suffering through the painful side effects of aborting his child.

Is this the best we can do for women’s rights?

In ancient Greek culture, women were considered more powerful than men.

Some were worshipped as Greek goddesses. Temple prostitution was an honored position within Greek society, unlike cultural stigmas towards prostitution today. The cultural mindset was that women can control their sex drives more successfully than men.

Women have control over something men desperately want.

When sex is withheld for a season, the power balance shifts to favor women.

What if, and I am only asking the question, withholding sex from a man until he promises to be by her side if a baby comes is the best way to honor women?*

Here’s another thing we know. . . . Sexual activity is not a life-threatening proposition for guys. Neither are the consequences. We won’t die if we get our partner pregnant. We don’t lactate once she gives birth. Males are really off the hook. We engage in the same reproductive activity [as females] but there are great differences in what each has to lose when they engage in it.

Your Best Brain by John J. Medina – Lecture 18: Sex And Your Brain

Women, are we ready to assert our power?

Then let’s say “no” except to the honorable man who has already asked us to marry him*.

This is the first step towards truly honoring, valuing, and assuring women’s rights.

Use your superpower! Assert your strength and the dignity, rights, and freedom of women. Don’t hand him your future suffering, both physically and emotionally, for free.

Value the woman.

Or didn’t you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? Don’t you see that you can’t live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for?

The Message

Lord, raise women who are okay with standing alone. Thank You for restoring us to wholeness, no matter where we have travelled, Jesus. After a moment of quiet, consider asking Holy Spirit, “How do you see me?”

Blogpost Footnotes

*And no, I am not referring to the teen boy who buys $20 cubic zirconia “Promise Rings” in bulk from Walmart and hands them out to myriad teen girls, seeking his reward. The promise rests on the character of the promise-er.

This post is part of our Say-It-Again On Friday series.