“Have you written about homeschooling?” she asked. My friend Mary couldn’t see my wince over the phone.
I write when I have confidence about my subject, and when it comes to being the actual primary educator of my children, I have none.
Not in myself anyway.
I’m a full semester plus change into homeschooling our kindergartener and I’m in denial. Hesitant. Uncertain. Certifiably insane.
And no, I don’t really want to talk about how it’s going because it’s not. I’m barely cutting it.
Exchanging a glance with the messy woman in the mirror, there’s no way that chick stands a chance at the idealism of Catholic Homeschooling. How can I who barely has a grip on laundry and dinner possibly entertain being THE steward of my children’s education? I can’t!
Up until the day we started, I oscillated between fighting tooth and nail and then falling in love with homeschooling. Andrew was unmoved by my wavering emotions; he quietly encouraged me and told me he had confidence in me, which I did not appreciate when I wanted out.
The truth is though, that I want all in.
And I think that want is a gift from God. It’s absolutely the only thing that spurs me on.
I’m a procrastinator, a theorist with little motivation to execute, a lit match that smolders a second after the flame. My small home is often messy and the thought of leaving it with a van full of children to function in public overwhelms me. I stink at doing laundry and I’m not a good cook. All of the above make me feel like I can’t homeschool. It feels too big and too important to place in my care.
But Moses had a stutter and he spoke.
Lazarus was dead and he rose.
Mary is a virgin and she had a Baby.
I’ve presented myself to God and said, “Impossible.”
And He says, “Not for Me.”
What do you want to do that feels so far beyond yourself, so out of reach?
I see the good of homeschooling. The hope. I feel empowered knowing I get to handpick a custom education for my children, with Andrew’s full support and participation. The flexibility of choice is thrilling: choosing to keep my children at home to be steward of their thinking, choosing what we learn and when we learn it, choosing to knit our family a little more tightly in these years of Lots of Littles, and praying it’ll take.
I can choose not to worry and choose to withdraw from self-imposed pressures to form my children into grand masters of every subject. I can choose to read one more chapter of Charlotte’s Web and take a little longer playing outside (science class, right?). I can choose to wipe my anxious tears when I doubt myself and recall that I was never capable of doing this alone in the first place.
So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones. (Genesis 50:21)
[I realize this verse was spoken by Joseph; but it’s in the Bible, which is the inspired Word of God, so I’ll take it thank you.]
It’s idealistic, I know. But in these years of just beginning, I think it’s good to delight in ideals.
My favorite Gospel story (aside from the Annunciation, Cana, and Feeding of the 5,000) is when Peter walked on water. He did what no man could, something beyond his nature because he asked Christ to command it from him, then stepped out in faith.
And so it goes with our ambitions and hopes. Just because you can’t doesn’t mean you won’t. The God Who made everything from nothing, Who saves the world through love wants to amaze you and bless you with His might. He will do it.
You need only present yourself, “Impossible, Lord.”
“Not for Me.”