On Motherhood and the Passage of Time

It’s the end of the school year here and I decided to begin work on a task I’ve put off for far too long: going through the numerous boxes of homeschool classwork. We have years worth of binders filled with lessons and worksheets. I saved my children’s work from the very first day we started homeschooling, partly because I needed to save their work for a portfolio, but partly because I just couldn’t part with it.

My oldest just finished his junior year of high school and it was time. I’ve dreaded going through his school work because I knew what it represented. I knew that opening those boxes and flipping through spelling tests, math quizzes, and handwriting exercises would shout out to me the harsh and difficult truth—time has passed all too quickly. I knew that sweet memories would flash in my mind, memories of snuggling up on the couch during afternoon read-a-louds, of combing the beach for shells during that year when we studied ocean life, and of laughing at my son’s insistence on illustrating every word on his weekly spelling tests. Memories of studying the Great Wall of China and constructing one of our own out of miniature craft blocks. Memories of cheering on Odysseus as he pushed forward in his long journey home. Memories of lapbooks and unit studies and field trips. I knew that such memories would usher forth tears, and I wasn’t wrong.

When we started homeschooling my oldest in the first grade, we thought it would be temporary. We expected to do it for a few years at most. But we soon realized that it was a perfect fit for him. He thrived in homeschooling and my youngest soon joined him. When we moved to a city where there were many options for homeschoolers to take classes, he thrived there too. When we switched his brother to a local Christian school, my oldest wanted to continue homeschooling. He’ll enter his senior year this fall and our homeschool story will soon come to an end.

I look at both my kids now, who both stand far above me, and struggle to see the little boys they once were. Sometimes, when they smile or laugh at a silly joke, I catch a glimpse of their childhood, but then just as quickly, it is gone and all I see are whiskers across a man’s jawline. I then hear the jangle of car keys and they are out the door to see friends. It seems like yesterday my oldest was learning to count; now we are registering him to take Calculus in the fall. Our conversations which once centered on all the “why?” questions of life and how things work, now focus on plans for the future.

My life over the years has revolved around the school day and the school year. I’ve measured time by classes, semesters, and summer breaks. In between those times were hard and difficult days when no one wanted to do their work and I longed for a substitute teacher to come in and take over. On other days, I wanted to resign my job as teacher, principal, janitor, and lunch lady all together. On those days, I looked forward to the next stage when things would be easier. I looked forward to days when I would be in less demand. I longed for moments of peace and quiet. Sometimes, I even imagined what else I could do with my time. To be honest, there were even days when I wallowed in self-pity, reminding myself of all I gave up to teach my kids at home.

Yet all those years have flown by all too fast. My days as a teacher have since shifted to that of tutor and guidance counselor and those jobs too will soon end. While part of me wants to rewind time and go back to those afternoons when we all sat and listened as we took turns reading aloud the day’s history lesson, part of me also loves watching my sons grow and mature into young men. I love seeing the labors of my years, the sacrifices of my days, bear fruit. I love witnessing the Lord’s work in their lives. And I look forward to seeing what he does in them in the years to come. Because the truth is, all along I’ve merely been a steward in their lives. They belong to the Lord and his calling on me as a mother will all too soon transition to a different role. While I will always be their mother, I won’t always be involved in their day to day life. I won’t always be needed. I won’t always be their primary instructor.

As I flipped through those binders of days past, I was reminded all the more that my job was temporary— that I didn’t have tenure after all.

Moms, the days are long but the years are short. Those days of pushing through exhaustion do not last forever. Those days of picking up toys and wiping faces and teaching the same lesson over and over will soon pass. Those days of watching the clock tick by all too slowly until bedtime will be gone before you know it. May we, like Moses, ask the Lord to teach us to number our days (Ps. 90). May we steward our brief time for God’s glory. For our “days are like grass” (Ps. 103:15) and all too soon, our time with our kids will be past.

When Homeschool is Hard

Whenever I meet someone new, they inevitably ask what grade my children are in and what school they attend. When I answer that we homeschool, I often hear in response, "I thought about homeschooling once. For about five minutes. I decided not to because I just don't have the patience. I am impressed with anyone who can do it."

I smile and nod. Sometimes I leave it at that. Other times I tell them the truth, "Yes, it is hard. In fact, I quit about once a week." This usually makes them laugh.

But really, I do quit once a week.

To be honest, homeschooling isn't hard just because my patience gets stretched. It's hard because everything is stretched. The longer I do it, the more I realize what I've sacrificed. Because I homeschool, it means I'm not employed in my profession, the one I worked so hard to learn and attain. Because I homeschool, I miss out on engaging with other adults. People are often concerned that children who are homeschooled miss out on social interactions. The truth is, I miss out on social interactions. There are ministry opportunities I can't participate in. Not only that, but it's hard to squeeze in all the necessary things of life when your day is filled with lessons—like personal doctor's appointments. 

When my kids are having a hard day, when they resist their school work, when neither of us can figure out a math problem even after trying for an entire hour, when I'm tired, and when the day seems to drag on forever, I sometimes want to quit and take back my normal adult life. 

But then I remember all that my children have learned these past six years. I look at their academic growth and progress and I'm amazed at what they've learned and what we've all learned together. I reflect on the amazing things we've been able to see, do, and experience. The fantastic books we've read. The wonders of God's world we've explored. The Bible verses we've studied and memorized. The missionaries we've learned about. The ways my children have been able to stretch and move beyond a box like subject, age, or grade.

And especially when my kids turn to me and say, "Thanks Mom. I'm glad we are homeschooled."

Some might say, "Well if it's so hard, why don't you give up?" The truth is, anything we are called to do in life is not going to be easy. We shouldn't resist things simply because they are hard. If we did, no one would run a marathon, no one would finish medical school, and the gospel would not have spread beyond the walls of Jerusalem.

I never expected to homeschool and in fact, used to scoff at the idea. And I probably used to say the same things that people now say to me. Yes, homeschool is hard. No, it's not for everyone. It doesn't fit every family's situation. It's not the best educational option for every child. But it's also not something to give up simply because it is hard.

Whatever task God calls us to, we can be sure that He will be our wisdom and strength. He will make us sufficient for the work He gives us. We are weak vessels and nothing highlights that more than homeschooling—or parenting for that matter. Yet, God's glory shines as he works through us, doing the impossible through unlikely people.

Will I want to quit homeschooling next week? Maybe. Possibly. Will we homeschool until my children graduate? Maybe. Possibly. I really can't say. If we stop, it won't be because it's hard. It would be because God has called us elsewhere. Which, in all reality, will also be hard. God isn't concerned about what's easy for me or easy for my kids, but about what is best for our holiness. Whatever he calls us to, wherever he directs us, it will all be used to make us more like Christ.  

So the next time someone says, "I don't know how you do it. You must have the patience of a saint," perhaps I should say, "Actually, I don't. But if we keep at it, that might be just what God develops in me!"

Joe Shillington

Teaching Children Church History

I grew up in the church and was blessed to learn theology at a young age. But it wasn’t until I started attending a Christian school as a teen that I learned the stories behind that theology. It was in a class on Church History that I discovered the people and places that helped define the truths I took for granted such as the Trinity, the divinity of Christ, justification by faith, and how it is that I attend church on American soil.

A lot has happened since the day Jesus ascended into heaven and charged the disciples to spread the gospel to Judea, Samaria, and the uttermost parts of the earth. Many people have died in the cause of spreading the name and fame of Christ and his gospel. In our day and age, learning the history of the church from the time of the New Testament until now, is important. We live in an age where few know what they believe and why. Truth is often seen as relative and depends on what one feels like doing in the moment. In truth, we live in a time not all that different from that of the early church.

We need to teach our children about the history of the church..to read the rest of this post, visit Redeemed Reader, my writing home for today.

A Prayer for Homeschool

It's that time of year again. Boxes of books have arrived at my door. The still stiff spines and crisp pages lay stacked and ready to be opened and consumed by my children's curious minds.

New books and curriculum are exciting. The beginning of a new school year is not unlike a new calendar year. It is filled with expectation and anticipation at what the future holds. A new school year means growth, maturity, and new worlds of knowledge explored.

In considering what this new school year holds, I know from past experiences that it will not be all peaches and cream. This is our fifth year of home school and I know there will be days where my kids will be tired, sick, and slow to learn. I know there will be bickering, distractions, and resistance to learning. And I know that I will battle my own impatience, frustration, and weariness.

As I opened my boxes of new curriculum and organized my materials and lessons, my eyes passed over the bulletin board that hangs on the school room wall. On the top corner of the board's frame rests a wooden sign hand carved by my grandfather. It is simply five letters, the name Jesus.

I've kept it in our school room as a reminder of who reigns, who rules, and by whose grace I teach my children. It's a reminder that I cannot home school apart from him. And it reminds me of to whom I want to point my children and all my lessons, for as Colossians 3:2 says, it is in Jesus "in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge."

A Prayer for Homeschool

Dear Father in Heaven,

I come before you with a mixture of anticipation and worry. I am excited for a new school year yet also a little nervous about the unknown. It's such a heavy responsibility to teach these children you've given me. I worry about doing it wrong, letting them down, and holding them back. I worry that I'll miss something or fail to teach them something they need to know. I also worry about my weaknesses and not being strong enough to instruct and guide them day in and day out.

Yet Father, I know from your word that you do not call us to something and then not enable us to do what you've called us to. You don't call us because we are already capable or are strong or successful within ourselves. You call us and then make us capable. You strengthen us with your strength.

Scripture is filled with examples of you defying weakness. You enter seemingly impossible situations and flip them upside down. I see how you took Moses who stumbled in speech and enabled him to lead the Israelite's out of slavery. I see how you took an uneducated fisherman and made him a foundational leader in the early church. I see how you took a poor teenage girl and made her the mother of your Son. And you took what seemed to all of Jesus' followers like the end of a dream--when your Son died on the cross--resurrected him and by doing so, ensured our own future resurrection and eternity with you.

Indeed, you do great work with the weak and weary. And weak and weary is what I am.

Forgive me for doubting and fearing. Forgive me for not trusting you. Forgive me for forgetting all you have done. Forgive me for resting in my own strength. Forgive me for all the ways I strive and work apart from your grace.

As I begin this new school year, strengthen me with your grace. Help me to rely on you and you alone. Grant me wisdom to teach my children. Help my words to be gracious, my actions to be honoring, and my thoughts to be centered on you. In everything, may I point my children to you and all they have through your Son, Jesus Christ.

I pray for my children, that you would help them to stay on task and not get distracted. Help them to enjoy learning. Help them to be diligent and hard working. Help them to desire to learn more of you. Help them to grow in their faith this year. Holy Spirit, grant them growth in the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience,kindness, gentleness, and self-control.

And throughout this year, may Christ always be at the forefront of our vision. May he be our source, our hope, our guide, and the purpose for everything we do.

In his name I pray,

Amen.