One More Reason I Love What We Do...

I tripped and fell into homeschooling my younger children.  It wasn't planned, wasn't the long-fulfilled desire of my heart, and wasn't the knee-jerk reaction to a terrible school situation.  More on what brought us to this place on another day.

But I do love what we do (most days) and am constantly reminded what a privilege it is to be the one who gets to discover and explore this great big wonderful world with my children.  Last week, we had our year-end state-required testing.  They did well, although I'm convinced that "the best" of what we do will never be measured by or demonstrated on any test.  More on that another day as well.

The remainder of our school year will be much more laid back - we're done with Spelling, Math, etc.  We've been freed from the "must-do's" in order to enjoy more of the "can't wait to-do's".  I must admit that as we enter this phase of the school year, I wasn't sure what our days would hold.  More serious practice of instruments in preparation for recitals, finalizing details for our eldest daughter's wedding, and freedom to enjoy our history reading at a more leisurely pace were what we've all been eagerly anticipating in these last weeks.

The fruits of additional free time always catch me off guard - in the best sense of the term.  Today, Will (my 11 yr. old) disappeared for a substantial period of time.  This was no great surprise, as he is my avid and somewhat obsessive reader.  However, he finally emerged from his solace not with a conquered book in hand, but having created the following:

Although we never gave a test in history, never required a project, and rarely adhered to the "lesson plan", I think we actually learned something this year!  

Tim Keller, Darth Vader and Shakespeare

Tim Keller on Stories

We've been spending the last weeks reading Edith Nesbit's Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare for Children.  Through the eyes of babes, my children have experienced amazingly astute observations.  Universal Truth can be seen most clearly by those who haven't lived enough years to construct an elaborate, well-thought out version of Truth.  I'm pretty good at manipulating my versions of truth.  They haven't lived quite long enough to do so with such finesse. 

The Crisis of Hope

At first glance, it’s a great word.  Hope.  At hearing the word, my mind is flooded with pictures of sunrises, reunions between loved ones, and relief from the worries of the world.  We’re told to possess it, that it conquers all, and that it endures forever.  After bad news from the doctor, the door slam behind the rebellious teenager, or desperate heartache due to unrequited love, this is where we should turn… to hope.  Hope that God is big enough, is good enough, and that he cares enough to make the pain go away.  I assume that’s where the theology goes bad…

My Knees Hurt

     My knees hurt.  It’s a new sensation, one that I don’t particularly look forward to having for any sustainable period of time.  I’m familiar with pain, but of a different origin.  Having been a dancer for many years, I’ve had more than my share of muscles that were shaking from fatigue, having been pushed to the limit after hours of dance class followed by grueling rehearsals.  But the pain in my knees is different.  Rather than being a sign of muscles that have been healthily, intentionally pushed so that they may strengthen, this pain issues a sign of warning.  A sign of weakness.  A problem.

Dreams of Greener Trees

"Two thousand years, and half a world away...

Dying trees still grow greener when we pray..."  Bruce Cockburn

  Moments before showing my husband's "milestone birthday video" to a group of our dear friends, I read the following.  If you listen beyond the words, you'll hear a faint whisper echoing ancient truths of struggle, redemption, and ultimate rest...