Teaching From Rest

I have the haziest memory of this book being prescribed to me by a loving friend, months ago. Now I don't even remember who it was that recommended it, (THANK YOU, anonymous friend) but thankfully the title of the book kicked around in my skull for long enough that I was able to find it when I needed it.  

I finally read it this week and wish so much that I had read it my very first year of home schooling.  It is inspired and powerful and it has brought me a great deal of hope and joy already.

I consider myself really good at simplifying, so a lot of the practical elements of this book were refreshers for me.  But at the core of Sarah's writing is one of the most honest and relatable discourses on grace I've ever read.  

"Rest" is the place between anxiety and neglect.  Sarah teaches that we all tend toward one side or another of rest most of the time.  Sometimes we even swing back and forth.  I spend most of my time on the anxious side.  But when we can still the pendulum on our trust in the Savior we are truly at rest.  

"After all, our job is not to be successful--success itself is entirely beside the point.  It's faithfulness that He wants.  God is good!  He isn't going to let us pour out our hearts for our children only to be left choking on the dust of our mistakes...The heart of this book is about remembering what our true task really is and then throwing ourselves in completely. Giving our all.  The raising of children, the teaching of truth, the sharing of life, the nourishing of imagination, the cultivating of wisdom: These are all his anyway; we are merely His servants." 

Oh, it is liberating to remember who we are and whose we are, and to remember that we are only helpers in God's great work.  It frees me up to enjoy the work more and worry over it less.  

"You are where you are (which is likely to be exactly where God wants you).  So work hard every day.  Value academic work because nurturing the intellect is part of what makes us fully human, but don't elevate it beyond its place.  There are relationships to cultivate, books to read, oceans to swim in, forts to build, toilets to scrub, bills to pay, paintings to create, dinners to make.  This is why we homeschool--because we want to engage in a full-to-bursting life."

 "Lavish" is a word Sarah uses over and over to describe the way a home school mother teaches, loves, and listens.  I have been working this week on loving lavishly in my home.  It is slow, satisfying work.  I love thinking about what a great privilege it is for me to be with the people I love all day every day.  Who gets that?  When I am miserly with my time and my love, my work is tedious and discouraging.  But this week, I've had a few magical moments of gratitude--of living truly in the moment.  I want to love lavishly every day of my life.

And one last, lovely thought from this book that I will treasure: a woman who embraces her unique strengths and teaching style is a woman who enjoys her work, and a woman who enjoys her work has a happy family.  I have often tried to do another woman's version of home school. It is unnatural, stressful, and no fun for me or the kids.  But when I think about the things that I absolutely love and do those with the kids, we have a great time.  So the schedule includes necessaries like math and spelling--yes--but it also honors my love of reading and conversation with a 45-minute chunk for studying the classics together.  And that bright spot of teaching from my strength makes all the other hard work worth it.  

There is simply too much beautiful, simple wisdom bound up in this surprisingly thin volume--you've got to read it for yourself.  Or buy it for that wonderful woman on your list who could use a little rest.    You can find more of Sarah's thinking at amongstlovelythings.com.

Why I Home School

Last week Naomi asked if she could go to public school, and it kind of broke my heart.

I shouldn't have let it get to me so much, but I spend so much time questioning my ability to do this thing right--that I took it as a vote of no-confidence.  Eliza, too, has been talking now and then about how nice it would be to go to school with her friends.  And this job is just hard enough that I spend a little time fantasizing about it myself.

I keep thinking about the local charter school with its progressive philosophy on education, its no-homework policy, and its great teachers with real lesson plans and beautifully decorated learning environments.  I think, maybe I'm not good enough to do this.  Maybe home school is just too hard for the likes of me.  Maybe I should give up this dream while these kids still stand a chance.

Eliza found me crying in my room, and she blew me away with kindness and wisdom.  She pragmatically identified a major fallacy in my thinking: that when she and the other kids fantasize about public school, they are not thinking the way I think.  They're not dreaming about academic glory; they're thinking that it would be one big happy play date with friends.  She also pointed out that Naomi has made huge strides since we took her out of public school, and kindly told me that she thought I was doing a great job teaching.

How fitting and slightly ironic that it was Eliza who came to my rescue that day.  Eliza, who can see every one of my flaws.  Eliza, who can sense that she would be a huge success socially at intermediate school. But really, her highly thoughtful nature qualified her perfectly to help me.  She may be perfectly aware that I have failings, but she's also highly attuned to my strengths.  And I'd like to think that her beautifully rational mind, her critical thinking skills, and especially her deep compassion have been in some way developed and enhanced because of our decision to teach her at home.

And you know, she's right.  We've done great things here.  And all the well-trained, amazing teachers in the world can't replace me if this is what God has planned for our family.  And He has.

Naomi and I had a talk the next day, and I told her that she's staying home for the time being, because I know in my heart that it's the best place for her.  I reminded her that she kind of hated public school, and that she kept asking me to home school her.  I told her that if she wants more time with friends, she has at least six within walking distance.  And I told her that she has intermediate school band to look forward to.

Keeping public school or the charter school up my sleeve in case of emergencies served me well for the first few years.  But the more time goes on, the more I feel that back door is letting in a chill of self-doubt.  And while I don't require of God a twenty-year plan--even if he tried, I'm not a good listener--yet He has given me my marching orders for this year.  And I want to feel more settled.  I want to feel that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing.

So this is my quest this year.  To see more purpose, more blessings, and more long-term joy coming out of this little home school experiment.  And to close the back door.  I won't lock it, but I want to feel warm here, so it needs to close.