Wellbeing

When Easter Is A Noisy Cymbal Clanging

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

Sometimes we mess up holidays.

For example, once a stranger at the Dollar Store asked me if I thought there was something not-quite-right about Hallowe’en. (I asked if it was perhaps the sweet little kids combined with creepy maiming imagery that seems off? Or is it just me?)

Similarly, could the way that we do Easter be not-quite-right?

For example, take Easter egg hunts.

Besides the fact that kids are searching for poison in the form of sugar, they have already been accustomed to, after staring comatose at thousands of industry-funded ads over their short lifetimes, promoting dumping the white substance over their breakfast cereals, crackers and drinks, besides that.

Are Easter egg hunts harmless?

My daughter participated in an Easter egg hunt. Several of the bigger, stronger, and more self-obsessed kids pushed others to the ground to gorge themselves even more, slobbering chocolate over the smaller kids sitting nearby, who were crying because they didn’t find any eggs.

But we tolerate this.

Why? It’s likely because the self-obsessed kids won’t listen to us, either. “Come on, Jimmy, why don’t you give some of your eggs to Sally?” we plead.

But they have already been eaten.

Compare this to the Xhosa culture in South Africa.

Kids were told whoever got to the fruit tree first won the sweet fruits. They held hands and ran together. Then they sat in a circle and ate together.

“Why?” the westerners asked. “UBUNTU, how can one of us be happy if all the others are sad?” UBUNTU in the Xhosa culture means: “I am because we are.”

And we are in culture shock again.

What are we teaching our children at the Easter egg hunt? We are the ones setting culture. The children are merely living up to our expectations.

The whole congregation of believers was united as one – one heart, one mind! 

The Message

And so, how do we hear a little less noise and a bit more of the wind blowing through the trees and our hearts this Easter?

If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

Ancient Text

We find some love, the kind that has been deposited in our pockets when we were looking for something else, and place a handful in the Easter baskets of the people whose lives we stumble across.

And joy comes to us, too.

For that is His way.

When Jesus died, he took sin down with him, but alive he brings God down to us . . . God speaks your mother tongue, and you hang on every word.

The Message

May you hear the sweet sound of His loving voice whispering to your heart ever more clearly this season, friend.

And may you find some love in your easter basket, too.

Overwhelmed? (Non-)Expert Psychotherapy For Free!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

So, I saw a Psychotherapist for the first time this week.

Oh, shut up! You need to see a Psychotherapist, too! You’re just too afraid of what may be dragged up from the depths to step near her office.

So I thought I would teach you what she taught me so you can save $160.

Yup. Psychotherapists get paid $160 PER HOUR.

I thought there must be a decimal error somewhere, too.

Nope.

So she taught me a “Tapping” technique called EFT Tapping.

I’ll teach it to you!

Now, in case you didn’t know, a caveat is that I am NOT a Psychotherapist! In fact, I have no idea what Psychotherapy even is! Psychotherapy has the root word “psycho” in it, which is a bit concerning, if I’m honest.

But, hey! What can go wrong? I’m teaching you what I learned for free!

If you try this technique and accidentally go more nuts or something, then sorry! Full refund! Haha!

(Since this is free . . . get it? Never mind.)

And we’re off!

So you Tap. Using two fingers, you gently Tap on the places where we usually rub our heads when overwhelmed. Yes! It’s easy!

And this is based on REAL science!

I’ll tell you what happened in my appointment so you can get the FULL experience.

She asked me how I was feeling RIGHT THEN. A little overwhelmed, frantic, and busy. Aren’t we all?

I mentioned why I thought this was the case, and she said, in an I’m-not-really-listening way, “Oh, that’s too bad!”

So I won’t listen to you as you answer that question either!

You’re welcome!

Then, she switched gears and said we could try “Tapping.” I thought it was a little insensitive of her not to talk through much of what I said, as most often, the reason we pay people is so they’ll listen to us. (Wait. Does that mean I should pay you for listening to me on this blog? Never mind.)

Anyway, I’m giving this a shot, trusting her.

And now, since I learned from her, you can trust me!

As mentioned, EFT Tapping is based on science. Here, I’m not even lying about the science part, as I was here!

So we Tap the beginning of one eyebrow, the end of the eyebrow, under the eye. You know how we naturally rub our temples or under our eyes when overwhelmed?

Other places are under the nose, the little divot on our chin, below our collarbone, and armpits.

As I was Tapping, I was thinking, who in the world has TIME for this?

This thought reminded me of a story about my good friend. She was told about some new scientific research. When a dog is happy, it wags its tail slightly MORE on the right than the left.

My friend had a blank look and replied, “Who the *** has time to study that ***?”

I was connecting with her feelings of time frustration as I Tapped.

However, remembering that my body shut down on me when I ran it into the ground a few months ago, I shut up and Tapped. (This is only a slight exaggeration of the truth of why my body shut down here, but who CARES about truth anymore, anyway?).

Are you Tapping?

Good!

Then, I found some tears sliding down my cheek, which was a little weird. I’m not a frequent crier. (My husband says I’m lying here again. No comment.) My motto is: Life is too funny for tears!

But when I slowed down, here’s the thing:

I could hear the voice of God speaking to the depths, healing me a little more.

I think the biggest key to learning to hear from God is SLOWING DOWN.

And what did He say? Good question.

What did He say to you when you slowed down for a minute to be still?

In repentance and rest is your salvation,
    in quietness and trust is your strength

Ancient Text

Another time, I’ll write up the part about what God seemed to whisper, so you’ll pay me that 99 cents for the information you CAN’T WAIT another day for!

Ha!

Just kidding!

This information is free, remember!

Just know: You get what you pay for!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

How To Be A Little Less Nuts – 3 Lessons From The Trenches

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I ate and ate and ate, stuffing in chocolate cake, ice cream, sweets, candy, and lollipops. And why?

I don’t know.

“Why do we do stupid things?” is a good question.

Why do we make that wrong romantic decision or escalate a fight when we know we can never win?

(Of course, winning an argument is not the ONLY reason to purposely escalate fights. For more helpful marital advice, go here. You’re welcome!)

Why come down so hard on our kids that we’ve discouraged them from trying again?

Why do we yell at our spouse and then assume the “happy, polite voice” when the phone rings?

And then why do we turn to ice cream, and when we’ve polished off that container, search the cupboards for that half box of stale cookies we are sure is in there somewhere?

And why do we repeat this cycle?

“Yeah, sure, I get it,” I respond, a mouthful of ice cream making it hard to annunciate my words. “We feel bad, and so we want the endorphin rush that sugar or crystal meth provides.”

Yeah.

But how do we step off this crazy cycle and reassess our lives and decisions from a thousand feet up?

How do we get back onto the trail in the forest, the one where we meander on the hike with our friends, laughing a bit as we walk, resting at the cabin in the woods before continuing our journeys?

How can we be a little less nuts?

Lately, this is the question I have been pondering lately as I try to extract myself from my recently constructed crazy loop.

Got any advice?

My ice cream is finished and I have a few seconds before heading to the cupboard to look for stale treats.

How do we stop being the nuts-o little bird I saw that day repeatedly pounding its head against the window and instead peck around in the forest like we were made to do?

Maybe we’ve finally discerned the right question to ask:

How are we behaving in ways humans were never designed to behave?

1. Well, Jesus has been knocking on our door for the last few minutes, or hours, or decades. He greets us with a smile and a wave when we finally open the door, holding the first draught of the medicine we need that will make our hearts and stomachs ache but eventually feel better. Do we slam the door in His face again and return to our lonely rooms and video games, telling ourselves that our cheap thrills and distractions are better than tea with a friend who understands our deepest headaches and offers us a Kleenex and some hope, Jesus?

2. Did we stop long enough to listen to the warning sounds, the alarm bells that indicate something is amiss, long before we act out irrationally?

For example, when I started homeschooling, I surprised myself by lashing out in anger at my unsuspecting kids over a minor infraction. I couldn’t figure out my behaviour but my first step towards healing was noticing the growing hint of resentment as my husband sat on the couch, the jealousy towards my kids that they were reading while I was cleaning up again, and the longing for time by myself. Would I stop playing the martyr when I first noticed these cues and head out for a walk or a visit with a friend, my understanding husband wishing me well and patting me on the back for being proactive this time?

Or would I wait for the full volcanic eruption, spewing my partially digested insides for all to see?

3. Am I being patient with myself? Growth in all plants and animals takes more time than we have to sit around waiting for it. Can we pat each other on the back whenever we see growth in our friends, family, or ourselves?

For example, yeah, I ate a bunch of extra dessert this week, and no, not even on a Sunday!

I slipped in that habit, but I’ve been growing in other healthy practices.

Did we remember to count our wins?

. . . it’s important to build a rule of life slowly, deliberately, and prayerfully . . . is there one practice (Sabbath, prayer, spiritual friendship, witness, etc.) that would be most fruitful for you to begin with? Do you sense the Holy Spirit leading you to focus on a particular aspect…?

Ken Shigematsu God in My Everything – How An Ancient Rhythm Helps Busy People Enjoy God

We don’t compare ourselves with where we want to end up. That’s too discouraging. But when we pick ourselves up after a fall and jump back in the race, then we can be sure Jesus is cheering us on.

Because we’re growing!

Well done, friend!

No, you’re not a nutcase – you only seem that way!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

True Freedom For The Woman Is This (Join The Dance, Friend?)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She sat on the grass, picking wildflowers.

She danced alone in that grassy place.

Free.

My choice is you, God, first and only.
    And now I find I’m your choice!
You set me up with a house and yard.
    And then you made me your heir!

The Message

I waited in the lineup, laughing.

Then I danced on the speakers at the bar.

Free.

Love me, hold me, ‘cause I’m free to do what I want any old time. And I’m free to be who I choose any old time

The Soup Dragons and Junior Reid

What is true freedom, then?

The freedom we danced and sang of when I was a youth at the bar left many of us imprisoned, wrapped so tightly in our bondage that joy dissipated.

The constraints God defines for us bring us to that grassy place where true freedom and joy are found.

And I danced alone, outside in the field, to the music God sang in my heart again this morning.

Your God is present among you . . .
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
    and delight you with his songs.

The Message

And so, what is best for the woman, dear friend?

Come.

I beckon you to this side of the fence, where true freedom and joy are found.

Have you found your dancing shoes yet?

Put them on! Come – let’s dance together, friend!

Joy awaits!

What are you waiting for?

God longs to delight in you, too, as you put your hand in his and follow Him on a journey.

The term Hephzibah is Hebrew for “my delight is in her.”

You’ll be called Hephzibah, my delight

The Message

Come and dance with us!

Instead of insisting on freedom to create spiritual reality, shouldn’t we be seeking to discover it and disciplining ourselves to live according to it? . . .

In many areas of life, freedom is not so much the absence of restrictions as finding the right ones, the liberating restrictions.

Timothy Keller, The Reason For God

Where Do We Go In Winter When We Are Lost Again?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Looking for a way out of another winter that suffocates?

A pika was lost in a snowstorm.

She looks around her. Which direction to turn? She is cold, alone, afraid and doesn’t have much time before the cold winter chills her to the bone. Death arrives quickly out in nature.

And that pika is me.

(You, too?)

Why a pika? Because who knows what a pika is? (And how known do you feel?)

We look around us, seeking a direction to follow or something solid to hold onto.

The days of our lives are thrown in the garbage can like the pages on our daily calendars. There goes another day, week, decade.

We find our first and then our 100th gray hair. Do we continue to pull these hairs out? At what point are we defeating ourselves, even harming ourselves, by pretending that the clock of time isn’t ravaging us?

What do we hold onto?

What direction do we travel next?

Who can lead us?

Do we hunker down, curl into the fetal position for warmth, and hope for spring?

Will the joy in our souls remain at the end of this winter?

Where is the warming hut, the cup of hot chocolate, and the friend with the listening ear?

I am here, He whispers.

Do you hear?

What Did God Say? Heal Our Children? Are Our Ears Clean?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I wasn’t sure if I could keep the car on the road because I couldn’t see through my tears.

The downpour we were driving through didn’t help, either. “Keep it together. Keep it together. . .” was my mantra until I could get inside, close the door to the world, and let these emotions out.

I wasn’t sure I would be able to drive the car home.

Inside, I collapsed behind a closed door and told my husband the news. His sadness began deep, deep in his soul, in the place where love resides, and found its expression. It was the future we mourned.

A dark cloud had cast a shadow over the future of one of our children. Like a candle in the snow, her joyful little light was sensing wind on the horizon. And the odd pieces of cardboard I found nearby to try to shield her from the wind didn’t look like enough right now.

Heal her, God whispered to me months later.

I was minding my own business, letting my mind wander while in the hot tub.

“Um, what now?” I asked. I sat upright and perked up my ears. “What did you say?”

Silence.

I had heard him. Would I take the next step in faith? Or would I put cotton in my ears and dunk my head under the hot tub, ensuring I could not hear any more of this foolish talk?

They told me this was incurable. Everyone knew that! The best we could hope for was some moderate success with behaviour modification – a few small wins.

And so, which road should I take?

This is where we stumble.

Is that a jewel I just about stepped on along the path of life?

Will we pick it up, inspect it, hold it to the light and find a friend with a hammer to crack it open?

Or will we put it in our pocket to consider later if we remember?

The joys and the sorrows of life arrive, and we hang up our clothes at the end of the day. We forget them there for awhile. When we remember, through foggy memories, that there may be a jewel in our pocket (!), we look again, but it fell out. There are only the singed edges of our pocket to remind us that we were holding a bit of heaven for a while.

But it’s gone now.

What’s for lunch?

And God feels far away, again, even though He just descended from heaven to meet us. We treated His gift like just another stone on the path. Will we catch the next jewel He holds out to us? Will our eyes be open enough to see this time, or will we trample, again, the precious jewel that He offers, His firelight shining in the darkness?

It’s only a sparkle at first.

Time to bow low and fan the flame of His voice in your life, friend?

Come along. Let’s journey together.

Oh. And she was healed, God guiding and then redeeming my pathetic attempts to listen, Him re-directing me and helping me up when discouragement hit. For that is His way.

Jesus said, “There is no need to dismiss them. You give them supper.”

“All we have are five loaves of bread and two fish,” they said.

Jesus said, “Bring them here.” . . . The disciples then gave the food to the congregation. They all ate their fill. They gathered twelve baskets of leftovers. About five thousand were fed.

The Message

We give Him what we have. It’s all we have but it’s not very much. We work with Him, following His direction so that the miracle can occur.

But that is a story for another time.

It’s also a repetitive story found here and here and in any heart willing to receive what He offers.

Ready for an adventure into the miraculous?

How To Defeat The Monster Of “Not-Enough-Time” Once and For All

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Is time clasping its fingers around your neck, too?

Does it tighten its grip so you struggle for breath now and then, too?

Do the fingers around your neck create fear that makes your every breath panicked, too?

And so, how do we fight the enemy of time?

Openly discussing our fears is the hand that removes this snake from around our neck for a while.

Why is time so scary?

We watch the snake slither next to us as we sit here on the sidelines, pondering the game of life.

It doesn’t look so big anymore as we see it now, here beside us.

It is not the kind of snake that can choke the life from us, a constrictor. It is a harmless, small snake, but its pressure, when wrapped around our necks, feels suffocating.

And so, how is your life going?

Let’s chat, be honest.

Did you shoot and nail every basketball into the hoops you aimed for when you were younger and your dreams were less tarnished?

If you did, how are you doing now, after the applause ended?

Just another one of us, a straggler in old rags, sitting by the side of the court, wondering what the game is all about?

Yeah, I hear you. I put my arm around you. Got any wisdom for the rest of us – the confused, discouraged, and hungry?

I’ve got one story. Here it is:

A dilemma confronted her. The dilemma woke her in the middle of the night. It was the calm, clear voice of her Lord.

Invite him to stay here, He said.

She was supposed to invite him to stay at her home. Nothing too extraordinary. Except that he was the leader of one of the most savage street gangs in New York. He was a bad guy, rotten to the core.

Or so everyone knew, and the track record of his life proved.

And she was the proverbial sweet old lady, tough as nails inside, under the veneer of an opulent mansion, her world in order.

Invite him to stay here.

No one else would let him into their home.

But she did.

True story.

This one act, this time at her home, was the safe respite, like a rest in Rivendell, that he needed as he journeyed away from Mordor. (Apologies to non-Lord of the Rings fans for this sentence).

He couldn’t go back to the streets. His old gang would kill him. But he was forging a new path that would lead him toward Jesus and to an international ministry speaking about his life’s events.

But this story isn’t about him.

It’s about the woman who invited him into her home.

She took a risk.

She obeyed God.

[He] protested, “Master, you can’t be serious. Everybody’s talking about this man and the terrible things he’s been doing, his reign of terror . . . !”

But the Master said, “Don’t argue. Go!”

The Message

Of course, we can never know this, but as a thought experiment, what if this ONE ACT redeemed an entire life?

This ONE ACT allowed millions to be touched and inspired by a life that otherwise could have vanished in the wind.

Poof.

It’s possible, again as a thought experiment, that in this ONE ACT of obedience, the fruit from a life was as expansive as the sand on a seashore.

And I step on the snake next to me, crush its head.

God told the serpent:
“Because you’ve done this, you’re cursed . . .
I’m declaring war between you and the Woman,
    between your offspring and hers.
He’ll wound your head,
    you’ll wound his heel.”

The Message

Time is no longer around my neck, squeezing me, leaving me gasping for breath.

I obey God.

I leave the results of my life up to Him.

I fly.

You?

Failing As A Homeschool Parent? Try This Tip! (Shhh… Plan Supper!)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I looked around me but with a smile in my heart.

The kids were playing contentedly, cutting out shapes with scissors. Wait – was that my planning notes they were chopping into shreds? And were those my scissors they were using?

Well, you can’t have perfection.

They are playing independently!

It had been an excellent day, in a homeschooling kind of day. We had our usual ups and downs, but my head was still above water, and it was only 5:15 pm! The kids had learned some stuff today.

I felt like a raging success. 

The tidal wave of to-do items had flooded us again, but we were still standing.

“I am a success!” I thought, satisfaction bursting open my heart. “A homeschooling success!” Today, I got up early, dressed to kill (that is, I got dressed), put on my lipstick, and taught my kids stuff with (mostly) a smile, only some of the times forced!

Our house was a disaster, yes, still, but we can’t expect perfection! 

The Yeti of disorganized, disregarded homeschool supplies and clothes half the size of my children still yelled at me from the basement, but I couldn’t hear it today.

“It’s time for a well-deserved bath.” Time to paint my toenails (Wait – I never paint my toenails, but don’t you wish you were the kind of person who does, sometimes?). Time to put my feet up and relax. Well done!

And when my husband burst open the door that evening, home from work, I was excited to share my success with him. 

“Look! Children playing contendedly!” I pointed out. “Look!” I shouted excitedly. “Feel their heads! Their brains are still warm!” 

This was definite proof they had learned something under my tutelage. Kids CAN learn something from people who aren’t professional teachers! (In fact, homeschooling is easier if we aren’t professional teachers, but that is a discussion for next time.)

I was ready to pour us both a martini when . . .

One of the kids mentioned supper . . .

Do you know that noise that plays in the movies that sounds like a record player in reverse for about three seconds? That sound reverberated in my head. Right.

Supper.

I found a couple of limp carrots in the fridge’s bottom drawer, behind some rotting sauerkraut. Why don’t they stand up straight after being in the fridge for a long time? A handful of cabbage, brown spots along one edge. One egg.

Noooo!

I am happy that this situation described above only affected me once (My editor wrote 1,000 times because she insists on truth. Spoils sport!) Eventually, I learned a lesson that saved my ability to homeschool:

After morning coffee, and yes, while I am still in a housecoat and slippers, and as soon as the brain switches on, I take a look in the fridge before I understand the first words of needy children.

Anything there we can eat today?

And if not, grocery shopping is our first homeschooling field trip. We weigh vegetables using those fancy hanging scales in the produce section for our math! Our reading lesson is held in Aisle 4 as the kids try to find a word they recognize on the soup can: tertiary butylhydroquinone, anyone? 

We take our lemons and we make lemonade again.

Yes! I have a plan for supper! You?

And we pat ourselves on the back because, just like our kids, we learn and grow as we homeschool, too. We have our priorities in the proper order. Our energy and sanity are limited resources, and we chose well today!

Feeding their little bodies well is MORE important than feeding their little minds.

Wisdom is not a product of schooling but of the lifelong attempt to acquire it.

Albert Einstein

Yes, we may have to start afresh with our planning pages after our kids cut them into shreds to make bunny litter since we forgot to buy more, but we ARE making progress today!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

We’re Busy – Too Busy To Give And Receive Love (Oh Well?)

/ Lori Lawe / 2 Comments

She was crying.

The little girl was clinging to her small blanket, wiping her nose with her arm.

We are busy. We have appointments. We dress to accomplish, checking the time as we walk past.

She stares around her, alone, in a world of busy, busy people.

Jesus sees her.

He kneels, offering her a Kleenex. She spontaneously hugs him, clinging round his neck, and he picks her up. Then he sets her down and guides her by the hand.

They walk away somewhere.

Where did they go?

We turn round for a minute, casting another look, pausing in our day. Where DID she go, we wonder? We MEANT to bring her some food and a warm blanket, to bring her home.

But we were busy.

Oh! And look at the time. And we are off again.

And Jesus is sitting nearby at that busy intersection, watching, watching the people.

He drinks his coffee and waits.

One of the busy men in a suit falls in pain.

Ill health is the cog in the wheel that stops his rush. He falls to his knees. He holds out his arms, willing himself to go faster, but his leg won’t obey. He looks up at the sky for help.

The people sidestep around him.

Jesus bends his knee and offers a brace, a cane and an arm to lean on.

They hobble away together somewhere.

Again, the busy people take a second glance.

“Was that man hurt? I meant to come back and check at lunchtime, on my break, but I got distracted. The good jokes in the lunch room distracted me, and it was too late. I had forgotten.”

“Wasn’t that Bob? He’s not here, walking with us anymore. Where did he go?” We ask each other, but no one knows. We weren’t paying attention.

Jesus sits with his coffee.

His eyes meet yours as you walk past him.

What is your response?

Will you pause?

Do you have time?

The Despair Of February Is Our Ticket To True Homeschooling Freedom

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

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,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.

The Message