Day 30: Why I Don’t Want the “Best” for My Kids

I just want what’s best for them.

We hear it all the time. Who knows how many times I’ve uttered those words about my own kids over the last thirteen years?

When we live beneath the shadow of the American Dream, it’s easy to become fixated on everything as utmost — the best academics, the best sports program, the best neighborhood, the best reputation, the best curriculum — that we leave no room for the providences that come through less-than.

We leave no room for the humility and compassion that can bloom from being mistreated or marginalized.

We leave no room for the resourcefulness that can develop out of scarcity, out of not having what “everyone else” has.

We leave no room for our kids to take a stand when they’re surrounded by those who think exactly as they do.

We leave no room for the dark and needy places in our own communities.

In the quest to get it right for our kids, are we unknowingly teaching them that life is about insulating yourself within the sphere of “best” and “safe”? Are we so focused on providing them with the ideal that they’re losing their grip on the real? Are we setting them up to worship false gods? Are we obsessed with success at the expense of character?

I’ve had to wrestle intensely about this as a Christian and I’ve landed in a place that feels uncomfortable, scandalous even.

I don’t believe we’re called to what’s “best.” We’re called to Jesus, to the life He spelled out in his Word and lived out with his life and I’m sorry, but it doesn’t resemble the American Dream so much. It resembles homelessness, false accusation, rejection, sacrificial love, and death on a cross for the freedom of many.

I write this post as an offender on so many levels.

I write as someone who knows that even though my greatest hurts and devastations have carved themselves into my character for the better, I still want to keep my own children from hardship.

I write as someone who’s prone to give in and make them happy instead of withholding and watching fruit grow from what first had to die.

I write as a mom who still worships at the feet of the Ideal instead of humble submission to the Real.

I write as one whose kids go to a school where the demographic is one of more privilege than poverty, whose overachieving, middle-class values are seeping into their psyche, warping their perspective. And I am not so different.

I don’t have easy, practical answers. Like any 12-step program, I simply know that admitting we have a problem is the first step. Each family, each child, each school situation, peer group, and demographic are different. God calls us to the rich and to the poor and to everyone in between because we’re all needy beggars. He calls us to travel all sorts of educational paths and to share life with all sorts of others in the process.

He doesn’t call us to pursue the “best.”

This can get especially messy for Christians because we like to toss around the term “Christian excellence” to justify our own achievement or validate the inordinate pressure we place on our children to succeed.

But is that really at the heart of the verses often used to justify the pursuit of “best?”

Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ {Matthew 22:37}

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, {Colossians 3:23}

These are sobering instructions, verses I’ve used with myself and my own children to remind us of our work’s sacred significance. I long for all of my endeavors — the cooking, the mothering, the writing — to bring glory to God and not pats on the back, even though my motives are usually messy. {Perhaps I should say “I long to long for bringing glory only to God.”}

These verses examine the posture of our hearts, calling us to humility and hard work, service and self-forgetfulness in all that we do, whether we have a PhD or an 8th-grade education.

Here’s my point. “Christian excellence” and “wanting what’s best” can be a smokescreen for ambition, plain and simple. When we’re graceless, obsessed, trampling over others, living unbalanced lives, or crushed by failure — our own or our kids’ — we’re not pursuing excellence as unto the Lord. We’re pursuing excellence as unto ourselves. We stamp Jesus-y language on top of achievement and call it “Christian.” And in so doing, we live counterfeit lives and chase counterfeit dreams.

We’re teaching our kids to chase after the same hollow goals, to pursue what’s “best” instead of what’s fruitful.

As loving parents, we should want our children to thrive, to see their potential and to give them a vision for it too. But we also want to give them a vision beyond themselves. In Matthew 22:37, the verse I just mentioned, Jesus is actually quoting Deuteronomy 6:5. Guess what Deuteronomy 6:7 says? Impress them on your children.

But what are we actually impressing upon them, the pursuit of his kingdom or the pursuit of their own?

Friends, if wanting “the best” is simply the means to misplaced ends, it’s time to take a giant step back and examine what we are really called to and why.

The Kingdom of God is not like the Kingdom of this world. The Kingdom of God is about loving Him with all that we have and all that we are. It’s about loving others as ourselves and this is way more messy and sacrificial than I’m comfortable with. It’s about pursuing the least and the last — who are actually the first.

Because in God’s Kingdom, it’s Opposite Day every day.

Again, I write as the guilty party, as one who is prone to overachieve and over-desire and to pass these counterfeit values onto my children as a hollow inheritance.

But I long to live differently and I know that it will literally take an act of God. Here’s the good news. He has acted already on my behalf. His resurrection power can bring new life out of my barren heart.

Perhaps you long to live differently too.

It doesn’t mean we give up on what’s “best.”

It means we redefine it through Christ, the One who smiles at our best and says, Follow me. I have better.

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I’m tempted to issue a dozen disclaimers about this post. {It’s not what I normally write. I’m afraid it sounds self-righteous. It’s too long for a 31-days post. Everyone will hate me.} But I’ve learned that when the “publish” button looks especially scary, it’s time to be especially brave.

Tomorrow is the last post. Cue the angels, Netflix, and also my pillow. I hope you’ll join me. For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

For other posts I’ve written on this topic of school, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Don’t want to miss a post in the series? You can subscribe and have each post delivered right to your inbox. As always, you may unsubscribe any time you like. {I promise not to sell your address to pirates, aliens, spammers, or The Gap.}

Day 29: You Homeschool. Even if You Don’t.

It’s easy to place our educational choice in a tidy box and put a label on it: Homeschool. Public School. Private School. Charter School. University Model School.

It’s also easy to place certain responsibilities within a box too. The school box provides formal education. The church box provides spiritual instruction. The club sport or school sport boxes provide athletics. The job box teaches them how to work.

But our real job as parents encompasses all of the above and it’s anything but a tidy box. Parenting is messy and fluid and the boxes collapse into mixed up pudding. {Terrible metaphor but you guys, it’s Day 29. Show me grace.}

Here’s what I’m trying to say. Education is life. Schooling is simply one slice of the pie.

The complaints and conflict and circumstances your kids bring home from school each day? They’re educational opportunities. Her refusal to do her math work day in and day out? It’s an educational opportunity too. The bad choice he made on social media? The conversations about God that are tinged with doubt? You guessed it. All of that is education because it’s opportunity for you to flesh our truth within the everyday life of your child.In the book, Going Public, David and Kelli Pritchard {parents to eight kids} respond to the frequent question they’ve been asked over the years, Are you into that homeschooling thing?We smile at the question. Then we reply enthusiastically, ‘Yes! We definitely homeschool our children…and starting at age five, we also send them to public school to get more information.’ We consider ourselves to be our children’s number-one educators, and we will never give up that responsibility or privilege — even though they spend 30 hours a week in somebody else’s classroom. We instruct our kids every day. We look for the teachable moments that intersect with what they are experiencing outside our home. We draw frames around their encounters and activities, showing how they fit within God’s greater perspective.

I don’t share this to persuade you toward public school. Remember, this series proclaims grace and freedom, not one way over another way. I share that quote because I agree with its message. We’ve all been given the privilege and responsibility of homeschooling, regardless of where the formal education takes place. You are teaching them around the kitchen table, in the minivan, when you tuck them in at night, and when they get in a fight on the basketball court. This is modern-day Deuteronomy 6:6-7.

And that’s not all. If you send your kids to school, you’ll help with homework. You may proofread a writing assignment that has to do with a sweatshop factory collapse in Burma. And then you may spend the next 30 minutes talking about all the ways we view labor and all the irresponsible culprits and how does this affect us as Americans. This is homeschool too.

Sometimes I struggle to believe this, but we, as parents, are still the greatest influence on our children. If we abandon them, we influence. And if we show up, we influence. How much more do we influence when we can move beyond simply showing up?

I remember when this really hit home for me in the most everyday of circumstances. Last year my daughter and I had a 30 minute ride home in the van, just the two of us. She had just cheered for an away football game and it was at the end of a long day. I was weary. She was weary. Several unplanned inconveniences had presented themselves throughout the day. I was unhappy with a certain attitude being displayed.

And so we talked. Well, first we got a chocolate milkshake and then we talked. Amid the venting and the tears, we covered everything from issues of respect to issues of compassion to issues of time management. This too is homeschool and it far outweighs what they will ever learn in a lab or textbook.

Here’s the thing. It’s not really homeschool or public school or private school that defines us or our kids or determines their future. The homework, the character building, the teachable moments — I just referred to them as “homeschool” but even that’s not an accurate reduction.

This is simply parenting.

And even though parents have been doing this thing for many thousands of years, I am often reduced to tears when I consider the overwhelming responsibility. Yet God has always worked through families, even though we’re prone to both epic and everyday failure. His instructions and promises are for us and our children and for all the generations. He has chosen us, everyday moms and dads, the ones with baggage and cluelessness, to nurture courage and conviction in the next generation.

We don’t do it alone. He puts us in community and He puts us under his care. Most of all, He invites us to learn hard into Him for strength, wisdom, and perseverance.

Maybe you’re in a place of surety and stability with your family and your educational choices right now. Or maybe you’re the opposite of that. Wherever you might be on the map, I invite you to broaden your definition of education. Because when we do, we get less caught up in the particulars of how we school and more inspired to simply teach them in the sacred classroom of the everyday.

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How do you use the springboard of the everyday to teach your kids?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

For other posts I’ve written on this topic, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

*book link is an affiliate

Day 28: THREE Simple Ways We Can Build Community Across Educational Lines

I got a text from a dear friend recently. Here’s what she said:

I cannot tell you the shame I feel when people tell me in front of my kids, ‘I could never stay home and homeschool. I need a chance to miss them by sending them away for a little while.’ Shot through the heart. It’s fine if they say it to me but my daughter was very confused and it left me no room to respond. It just felt hurtful. I have had a rough of at it lately and it just seemed to be hard to hear more than usual.

I told her I was so sorry, that some moms feel the need to affirm their own decisions with total disregard for the other person’s feelings when they encounter a family who is doing school differently.

I could tell you my own stories and I bet you could tell yours too. We all encounter insensitivity. And we’ve all been insensitive. I write to remind myself just as I write to remind you.

Some of us are more self-aware than others. Too much self-awareness has its own pitfalls. {Ask me how I know.} But not enough can do all sorts of damage. While much of this has to do with basic personality and the way we’re wired, there’s a mindfulness we can all procure as we talk with others — whether it’s small-talk with the homeschool mom who has all of her children in the pediatrician’s office {good times} or the friend at church who just switched to public school.

Here are three simple ways to link arms across educational lines and foster richer community.

1. Ask a question for the sole purpose of listening, not as an inroad to share what you have to say.

If you ask a mom what made her decide to homeschool, take yourself out of the equation. This is a question about her, not you. This is a question that helps you get to know her and her family. Listen as you would want to be listened to. And if she asks you a similar question, by all means respond, but not with reactionary language, competition, or soapbox-speak. Conversation is so much more freeing when you leave behind personal agenda.

2. Purposely make conversation about school with those who do it differently than you do.

My church has a mix of families who homeschool, public school, and private school. I personally think this diversity is awesome and holds the potential to make us better together. We tend to think that community-building is so much harder than it really is, like there’s a formula we need to create or a reconciliation conference to host.

I think it begins with the simplest of questions: How’s your school year going?

Again, we ask this with sincerity and a mindfulness of community. Back when I homeschooled, I often had other homeschool moms ask me this question but I rarely had a public school mom ask me the same question. Don’t be too hard on them. I rarely asked a public or private-school mom how her year was going either. We tend to feel easy and affirmed around those who are like us but awkward and defensive around those who aren’t. Now that seems silly but at the time, homeschooling was so much more of my identity than I realized.

You guys, every mom out there has stuff to share about school — good, bad, and ugly. You don’t know how loved she feels when you simply ask. Let her share and as she does, listen with the compassion and interest you’d want extended.

3. Learn from your differences.

There is so much I learned when we homeschooled that overlaps with public school. From study skills to learning styles, much is transferrable. And there are essentials I’ve learned through public schooling that would have helped me when I homeschooled. From the importance of natural consequences to personal ownership of one’s work, holding my kids more accountable could have helped some of our everyday struggles. When we homeschooled, I so appreciated the web-sites and tips from my aunt who is a veteran public-school teacher, especially as I worked with my struggling reader.

We are so much better together. I believe this with all my heart.

We are rich with our uniqueness, our fields of knowledge, our myriad life hacks, and the creative ways we approach parenting. When we leave insecurity and competition at the door, we realize how life-giving it is to learn from one another. Parenting is hard. Educating our children can get complicated. We need each other on this journey. Let’s see our diversity as treasure to bask in, not tribes to belong to.

Friends, this isn’t competition. It’s community.

Shift the way you think about others. Leave your agenda behind. Communicate in a way that’s compassionate. Be open to learning from those you’d least expect.

And try out a simple question that can turn the tide altogether: So how’s your school year going?

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What’s your favorite community-building question?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

For other posts I’ve written on this topic, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 27: Why We All Need Our People, No Matter How We Do School

Guys. We’re on the last week of the series. {Cue the coffee maker because I’m running on fumes at this point.}

We’re going to spend the next few days looking at a very important piece of the puzzle: community. This is the place where my heart beats strong. I’ve seen the issue of education shut down conversations, cause division in churches, and alienate those in the minority. Self-righteous attitudes pollute the air and poison relationship. This should not be, especially within the context of Christian community.

I’d love to say that I write from a place of blamelessness here. The truth is I’ve harbored my own self-righteous attitudes. I’ve silently judged others and also felt judged by others. In my zeal for the way I was doing school, I’ve overinflated its virtues at the expense of other perfectly valid educational paths. Please, please forgive me.

As human beings, we are so much more alike than we are different.

We are mothers who love our children and want them to thrive.

We are women in need of sisterhood.

We are insecure and desperate for assurance.

We doubt our worth and hunger for affirmation.

We feel alone on our journeys and need fellow travelers.

I truly believe we can all come together, despite our different ways of doing school and the day-in, day-out lifestyle differences we experience as a result. And we’re going to get to that issue later this week.

But first I want to talk about needing our people.

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The way we educate impacts our day to day in a big way. There are stresses for a homeschool mom that a public school or private school mom doesn’t experience and vice versa. Our specific paths and all that goes with us on the journey require specific community. From how to keep a house running while homeschooling to how to navigate our public high-schooler’s schedule, we need the collective wisdom of one another.

When you homeschool, you’re in the minority and you desperately need community and encouragement. It’s hard, it’s still sort of unchartered territory, it’s not “normal.” You need your people. And in some circles or certain churches, public schooling {or private schooling} can place you in the minority. You need community and encouragement too. Because it’s hard in a different way and you need your people.

For the nearly five years we homeschooled, I had my people. Oh I still had plenty of friends and acquaintances who were doing public or private school but for very practical reasons, our lives did not overlap as much. Homeschoolers, diverse though they are, all do that weird thing of not sending their kids to school and I was one of them. Being “weird” is what bonded us all.

Now that we do public school, there’s a whole new set of decisions. There are cultural struggles that discourage me, options that confuse me, and rules that feel silly. There are carpool needs and Wyldlife meetings, cheer meals and fundraising. I’m now bonded with the public-school parents that I didn’t do life with back when we homeschooled.

It’s easy for one group to look at the other group and write them off as cliquish. Especially when they are. {And we’ll get to that dicey issue later.} But what if we looked at them not as “cliquish others” but as moms and kids in need of community. Think of all the ways you need the encouragement and kinship of your specific community, whether homeschool, private, or public school. Why should it be different for anyone else?

Last week I had a meeting at my church and I walked through a sea of kids playing outside and groups of moms in conversation. They belong to a homeschool community that takes classes there two days a week. It was a sweet sight, all of these kids and parents living in encouraging community with one another. It made me smile and feel a bit nostalgic.

If we’re prone to judge something as lovely as that, perhaps it’s time to look deep into the recesses of our own hearts and ask why. We may find insecurity, jealousy, judgmentalism, or loneliness. But we can’t be free from the dark thing that weighs us down and separates us from one another until we look it in the eye and call it out.

Be grateful for your people. Lean on them and learn from them. Encourage and minister to them.

And be grateful that others have their people too. They need them just as much as you need yours.

Remember that our common ground sprawls so much wider than our difference.

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How has your own community been a blessing to you?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

For other posts I’ve written on this topic, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 25: Should We Change the Way We Do School? {Part 2} THREE More Questions to Ask.

Yesterday’s post offered the first three questions. Today I present the last three. This isn’t an exhaustive list of considerations but it gets us started. In all of these, it’s important to be brutally honest. Our idealistic expectations can blind us to the truth. And while denial and boot-strapped pressing on seem preferable at first thought, it’s not fruitful in the long run.

So here you go. Three more questions to ask if you’re wondering whether to change the way you do school.

4. Is my relationship with my child suffering?

I have one child who would be particularly difficult for me to still homeschool. We butt heads. We’re both independent and always right. Our emotions feed off one another. As a result, I believe homeschooling right now would be detrimental to our relationship.

At the same time, public school isn’t an easy fix. Each of us is prone to detachment and privacy. We naturally put up walls and inhabit separate spheres. That too is detrimental. So I have to be very intentional about finding ways to connect. I’m not always good at it but I’m trying. Right now, we still feel like school is where this one needs to be and that our relationship is better because of it.

My husband reassured me with these wise words three years ago as we made the abrupt and difficult decision to switch from homeschool to public school:

Many people can be their teacher but only you can be their mother.

It’s true. Having time apart and a break from being both mom and teacher have been fruitful for our family relationships. Every family doesn’t need that in every season but we needed it then and it’s still a good thing now.

I’ve known others who needed to bring their kids home, if only for a season, because they were losing them at school and wanted restoration. I greatly admire parents who are willing to do this.

5. Is my child suffering too much?

I’ve already written that hardship can be fertile ground for a brighter future so you know that I’m not about rescuing a kid every time things get hard. But there are certain challenges that etch unnecessary suffering into the tender skin of our children. We won’t always know but when we do know and there’s something we can do to change it, I believe we should.

Maybe it’s bullying or toxic peer relationships that won’t right themselves. Perhaps it’s prolonged academic distress or too much academic stress and the effects are starting to show up in concerning ways. It could be complete and total apathy toward the educational environment that surrounds him. Whatever the reason, finding a fruitful alternative, if only for a season, can breathe security and stability back into them.

6. Am I in crisis?

We all face times of crisis and some of them hit home in more devastating ways than others. Separation, sickness, divorce, death, depression, all kinds of loss — certain crises can swallow us whole and render us useless in areas where we used to have abundance.

In times like these, it’s okay and even necessary to remove every single thing from your plate but the bare minimum. You need to focus on survival and restoration and let me tell you, that’s a full-time job. Emotional stress eventually shows up in exhaustion and physical distress.

It’s okay to simply take a break and do what requires less of you. That looks different for each of us but for me, it meant putting our kids in school. We had a feeling that our kids would probably be okay and believed that even the transitional bumps in the road would be less taxing than continuing to homeschool when I had nothing to give.

When my friend suddenly lost her husband several years ago, she actually kept homeschooling — albeit with a long break — because this had been their lifestyle for over twenty years. Her kids had already lost their father without warning. Continuing with what they knew provided comfort and familiarity in the midst of a world turned upside down.

Currently I have a friend who’s transitioning some of hers from homeschool into public school but keeping others at home. Life has recently dealt some tough blows and they’re trying to be strategic about lightening the homeschooling load so that they can focus on these bigger issues.

See? There’s no formula. Each family has its own variables. But all of us must adjust in some way when crisis hits. Often this can affect our educational choices. God doesn’t write any two stories the same but that doesn’t mean we can’t find take-to-heart truth in each and every one of them. Humanity and redemption stitch us all together like that.

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While I believe in being sensitive to the needs of our children and not simply throwing them to the wolves, they are more resilient than we think. We do them a disservice with over-protection and too much sheltering.

It’s good for them to learn, early on, that hard things visit all of us and that life isn’t perfect. We make concessions and adjustments because sometimes the real trumps the ideal.

I remember having the tough conversation with our own children several nights before they started public school. We were honest. We told them I needed a break and lots of rest because it had been a hard year. It seemed a bit invasive to be so honest with their young minds and emotions but who was I kidding? They knew it had been a hard year because they had lived through it too.

Let’s be honest. With ourselves. With our spouse. With our children. And with the life we’re currently living.

There isn’t a formula but there are important factors worthy of our consideration. When I first began writing about this topic, I got comments and e-mails from those I knew and those I didn’t. They told me their stories and I heard a familiar refrain:

There’s plenty of support for starting your educational journey a certain way but there’s no support when you decide that’s no longer the path you can stay on.

It can be a lonely road to leave the familiar behind. It was for me. But you’re not alone. I’m only one voice but I’ve been there and I generously extend my permission and support. Picture me with a megaphone, cheering you on.

It’s why I’m writing this series — for you, the ones who are in a place of indecision or insecurity. You’re not alone and you’re more equipped to make wise decisions than you think.

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These last two posts have been longer than my usual word count for this series. Tomorrow will be the last Sunday post in the series on finding rest. I promise short and sweet.

How sure do you feel in your educational choices for your family? Have you ever switched paths and if so, what have you learned?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 24: Should We Change the Way We School? {Part 1} THREE Questions to Ask.

As one who barely has enough confidence in her own decisions, I tremble at the very thought of this post. Who am I to tell you whether you should consider a change in your educational path?

Not an expert, that’s who.

But as one who clung tightly to a beautiful vision of homeschooling for nearly five years and then did the unthinkable by plopping my children down in public school, I’ve learned a thing or two. Along the way, I’ve talked with others who have struggled with the same issues and certain commonalities emerge.

And so I simply share what I’ve learned, personally and collectively, along this journey. Here you go, three questions to ask yourself. {I’ll offer three more tomorrow.} Only you can interpret and apply the answers. I’m just here to get you thinking in a fresh and honest direction.

1. Am I breaking down?

I can’t provide a clinical assessment. But ask yourself, your spouse, those closest to you — Is this taking too much out of me? If you homeschool, has drudgery replaced delight? Are your days marked by complete exhaustion? Are you depressed? Do you feel like you’re operating at about 20% capacity? If you’re kids are in school somewhere else, are there particular stresses that are consuming an inordinate amount of your physical and emotional energy and it’s showing up — inwardly and outwardly? If you answered yes to any of these, take some time to think, pray, and discuss the situation {and options} with your spouse.

2. Is my marriage suffering because of this?

Mine was. And that’s why I’m putting it out there. For me, homeschooling took so much out of me, there was little to no energy and resolve left for my marriage. There were other variables too. My husband worked all day and two to three nights a week during those years; the backdrop of our life was worn and threadbare. But when margin in your life is already thin and a crisis comes along, you’re left with deficit everywhere you look. Marriage can bear the heaviest burden.

Though the alternatives for your children may be less than ideal in your mind, if your marriage is teetering on the edge, it’s time to make first things first. This might sound impossible. I hear you. But take a step back and consider the alternatives: a broken family, devastated children, the practical and emotional baggage of a marriage on the rocks or busted up altogether. I don’t write these things to throw guilt around if this is your story. There is always redemption. I write these things because I’ve lived these realities. My marriage is here and my family intact by the grace of God alone.

I know this is heavy talk for a nice little series on educational choices. But none of our decisions happen within a vacuum. One part of life affects another part of life and always we must consider this.

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These first two questions deal with non-negotiable issues: your physical, mental, emotional health and your marriage. Call me harsh but your kids and their education don’t trump these. Here’s the last question for today.

3. Is life off-balance? For you, your child, or your family.

Homeschool, public school, and private school — there are specific ways each of these options can monopolize our time and energy to the point that balance is non-existent. Maybe the commute has taken its toll. Maybe the full-time mom + full-time teacher gig has taken over your sanity. Maybe the long school day + homework + after-school sports mean that you are never ever together as a family and that your child is exhausted. Maybe your finances are margin-less because of tuition and this affects everything else.

There are legit seasons of sacrifice and busy-ness. This is real life as a family. And as our kids get older and pursue their own endeavors — even when we impose limits — there’s still more on the calendar and less time together. Life gets a whole lot pricier too. These are normal expectations. But sometimes things heat up so gradually that we fail to notice the water is boiling and it’s time to get out. Quick. This is the off-balance I’m referring to.

Once again, take a giant step back. Remember your core values and priorities as a family. Consider the wholeness of each person and your wholeness as a family. Be brave and make the fruitful decisions that feel too hard, even if it feels like you’re the only family.

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Tomorrow we’ll continue this conversation with three more questions.

Have you switched educational paths with your own children? If so, what have you learned?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 23: 5 Ways to Take Care of Yourself During a Difficult Season of School & Life

Yesterday I wrote about the bossy-ness of difficult days and how a string of them can lead us to doubt, despair, and rash decisions.

Today I offer practical tips toward taking care of yourself as your persevere along your educational path during draining seasons. Maybe you’re adjusting to life with a recently diagnosed learning disability. Or you’re mired in the negativity and angst known as middle school. Perhaps you’re teaching multiple ages at home with a baby in tow or dealing with personal crisis as your manage your kids’ education.

Real life happens. And it’s important to take care of ourselves when our “normal” veers off onto a path that’s much more wearisome.

Do not confuse this with advice to “stay the course no matter what.” My own story doesn’t testify to that approach. But I did have days turned weeks of tough days as a homeschool mom and I experience them now as a public school mom too. That’s because there’s no perfect, problem-free way of doing school. Each approach has its vulnerabilities and every family throws its own variables into the mix.

While each day brings its own stress, there are times when it feels like we can’t get a break. I’m talking about those times. As I wrote yesterday,

Sometimes just one of these stressors hangs around day after day after day. And other times it’s a perfect storm of all the bad things, all at once. Negativity can wrap itself around you until you’re swaddled in a blanket of doubt and failure. You imagine that no one else is flailing and failing like you are.

Whether your kids do school at home or in a private or public school, here are ideas for sustainability during draining times.

1. Fight for rest.

Some of you are laughing already. Marian, you’ve got to be kidding me. There is no room for rest in my life, sister. You don’t know my circumstances. You’re right. I don’t. But I do know that there are ways to lighten your load. Takeout for dinner. Getting a babysitter so you can have a nap or have a Venti cup of reassurance from Starbucks. {Extra whip. Full fat.} Getting help with the housework — from your spouse, from your kids, from a professional. Or all of the above. {Yes please.}

2. Lower your standards.

It’s hard, but you may have to let go of certain expectations for a season. You can choose grace and rest or resentment and anxiety. Sometimes this means allowing your kids more screen time than you “should” for the sake of your own mental health and ability to care for them. It might mean choosing to be okay with undone laundry, a messy house, and convenience foods. Perhaps it means you stop obsessing about their grades and performance, especially if it’s only causing you stress. Always it means real prioritization and acceptance. Which brings us to the next point.

3. Prioritize. Prioritize. And repeat.

Every season won’t be like this one, whether it’s a 5-week window or a 5-year window. There are certain non-negotiables, though the world around you screams that everything is important and also that you’re indispensable. It’s not and you’re not. You are finite. Your years with your kids in this stage is not forever. Your life doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s.

Put all of this together and what do you have? The permission and courage to say no and to ruthlessly prune the extras in your life that are only adding to your stress. It might mean you let go of their music lessons or sport for a time. You may disappoint your kids, yourself, and others by saying no for now. {Not forever.} Just last week I did this and it hurt a little. It’s not easy in the short-run, but it’s fruitful in the long-run.

4. Find perspective.

A wise friend who understands. Your spouse. Prayer and time alone. A counselor. An episode of Hoarders.

Left to ourselves, we’ll suffocate under the load and subjectivity of a draining season. We’ll imagine we’re the only ones struggling in this way. We’ll sink into a pit of shame and discouragement. Let truth and community pull you out and pour you a cup of coffee instead.

A couple of years ago I was in the trenches of exhaustion and emotional recovery. I had a weekly date with a wise and older friend and she poured life-giving Gospel truth into my soul week after week. It was a means of grace, one that kept me out of the pit and moving forward.

5. Compensate.

This is really an umbrella for all the other points. If it looks like things may remain difficult for an extended time, adjust your life accordingly. I can’t say what that will look like for you but we can’t run on adrenaline forever. We’re not machines, we’re people. And we need to care for ourselves and our primary relationships in ways that are wise and gentle.

You might think this is too complicated and indulgent. But I’m not talking about days at the spa or hiring a cook and a nanny. {Full disclosure: I long for all of the above.} I’m talking about real-life ways that we can make it through tough times with intention, strength, and realistic expectations. It’s possible. But you have to start thinking outside the box of your own idealism. If this feels impossible, enlist your spouse, a counselor, or a close and honest friend — people who will tell you the truth and have your best interests in mind.

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Friday and Saturday we’ll talk about a complicated subject : Switching educational paths. How do we know when it’s a valid consideration?

What are some ways you’ve learned to compensate and care for yourself and your family during difficult seasons?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 22: Don’t Let Difficult Days Boss You Around.

It’s all too easy to let a string of hard days make you want to jump ship. Back when we homeschooled, I experienced difficult days that dragged into difficult weeks and it made me question everything, including my worth as a human being. Days without a shower will do that to an overwhelmed mom.

The tears over grammar every. single. day.

The toddler filling the toilet with shoes, hair bows, and trash while I tried to teach the big kids.

The house in a constant state of disaster + the dailyness of dinner + the kids who were still in pajamas at 3 pm + my own exhaustion and showerlessness.

And let’s not forget that time I was handcuffed out of my own bathroom.

Now that we do public school, we still experience difficult days that drag into difficult weeks that can also make me question everything.

The late nights and early mornings of homework after cheering for football games.

The lack of my child’s enthusiasm for certain subjects because of a teacher’s lack of enthusiasm.

The many miles I put on our van every day + the exposure to less-than-ideal cultural trends + the early-morning stress of getting everyone where they need to be.

Sometimes just one of these stressors hangs around day after day. And other times it’s a perfect storm of all the bad things, all at once. Negativity can wrap itself around you until you’re swaddled in a blanket of doubt and failure. You imagine that no one else is flailing and failing like you are.

What if we’ve gotten this all wrong?!?

It’s a familiar refrain. And if we hear it enough times, the question turns from inquisition to accusation.

You HAVE gotten this all wrong.

But accusation never has a place in these decisions. It is okay to question, to evaluate, and to reevaluate. It is even okay to let a season of very difficult days re-route your path, even if the re-routing is only temporary. But it’s not okay to internalize accusations, whether the condemnation comes from you or comes from others. When we allow accusations to boss us around, we’re prone to rash decisions and a despair that sucks the perseverance right out of us. We’re dead in the water before a new day even begins.

When you and your spouse have made your decision out of love, out of what you believe is fruitful for your children, for your family, and for yourself — you can rest.

For those who are in Christ, we know all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. We trust that the hard days are ultimately a gift if they show us how much we need a source of strength, wisdom, and comfort that’s beyond ourselves. These days invite us to lean into humility and grace.

Yes, many hard days in a row may eventually lead us to a different path, but not always. Don’t allow doubt, comparison, and accusation to sabotage your patience and perspective.

Just do today. We’re promised difficulty in this world. But we’re also promised a source of strength who has overcome it.

Tomorrow we’ll talk about taking care of ourselves and our families in the process. A season of difficult days is draining but the only one who expects you to be a martyr is probably you.

And Friday’s post will go a step further and delve into the question: How do we know when it’s time to let a good thing go and switch educational paths?

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How has a season of difficult days caused you to doubt your own path?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

Day 21: From the Segregated South to Secretary of State. A Peek at Condoleezza Rice.

Condoleezza Rice grew up in Birmingham, Alabama in the 1950s and 60s. Reared in a parallel universe with white people, Rice went to a segregated school and a segregated church. She ate at segregated restaurants and played in segregated places with kids who shared her skin color. She didn’t learn to swim until she was 25 years old, in great part because the Commissioner of Public Safety chose to shut down the city’s pools rather than allow black citizens to swim in them.

Her mother was and educator and her father an educator and minister. Both were well-respected leaders in the Birmingham community known as “Titusville.” Many of the children who grew up in this tight-knit neighborhood went on to become extraordinary influencers. Surrounded by a hostile world and the scrutinizing gaze of others, these kids inhabited a unique place and time in history. Rice said, Everyone had to be twice as good. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so surprised that Titusville kids went on to become everything from Pulitzer-prize winning journalists to college presidents.

Condoleezza’s education was unique, to say the least. When she finished kindergarten, she was not yet old enough to enter first grade even though she was performing well above grade level in all subjects. So her mother homeschooled her for a year and then enrolled her in the community’s segregated school. Along the way she excelled in classical piano, foreign languages, and all things academic. In 1967, her family moved to Denver, Colorado where she attended an all-girls Catholic school and graduated at the age of 16.

Rice was an only child and received the full measure of her parents’ devotion. But that doesn’t mean her upbringing was idyllic or that success was a sure thing. She recalls her father sitting on the front porch all night with a gun across his lap. She remembers the bombings in her community and the shameful ways they were treated outside the confines of their segregated world. But it’s clear that adversity only strengthened her spirit and molded her character.

Her accomplishments speak for themselves:

Condoleezza Rice has excelled as a diplomat, political scientist, and concert pianist. Her achievements run the gamut from helping to oversee the collapse of communism in Europe and the decline of the Soviet Union, to working to protect the country in the aftermath of 9-11, to becoming only the second woman – and the first black woman ever — to serve as Secretary of State. {From the back of her book, Extraordinary, Ordinary People: A Memoir of Family}

I was reluctant to include her in the series because I don’t want to imply that only the overachievers matter. Greatness is not the goal. I simply want to show how various educational paths have prepared people of influence. And in so doing, I hope we’re encouraged by all the ways we can do school. Our individual paths are part of our preparation.

I was also reluctant to include her because she’s a political figure and I don’t write about politics. But regardless of where you stand, she’s a picture of perseverance, poise, and professionalism. And like any high-profile leader, especially those who break glass ceilings, she has her many critics. But politics and the nuances of her performance aren’t the point of this post. The fact remains, she has achieved positions of influence, one after the other. Just fifty years ago, most Americans would have labeled such feats impossible for an African-American woman.

From Condoleezza Rice, a product of homeschool, segregated public school, and religious private school, we learn that success is not simply the outcome of natural smarts, which she definitely had. A loving family, academic diligence, supportive community, deep and abiding faith, courage and dignity in the face of adversity and prejudice — they all wove themselves into the tapestry of gracious excellence that is her life. We also learn that hardship can be fertile ground for a brighter future.

From her parents, we’re inspired to believe in the gifts of our children. And when the bullies come, when the culture that swirls around us is hostile to our identity and our values, we learn that there’s a way to stand firm with conviction and dignity.

Our kids are watching. And in the watching they are also learning and preparing.

Believe in them but don’t stop there. Give them an inheritance of grace and courage. The world will reap the benefits.

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For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.

* book link is an amazon affiliate

Day 20: From “Slow Learner” to World Changer. A Peek at Thomas Edison.

Raise your hand if you’ve heard of Thomas Edison? That’s what I thought. All of us. But Edison may have died in obscurity save for a loving mother who had more common sense and insight than the professional educators who labeled him as “addled.” A poor student, Edison’s teachers accused him of being too slow and too curious. Apparently he asked a lot of questions.

So at the age of 12, Edison’s mother had the good sense to remove him from school and teach him at home. The rest is history. Literally. Edison’s insatiable curiosity for the world of how things work led him to secure 1,093 patents, including the automatic telegraph and the first commercially viable electric lightbulb.

Edison’s inventions changed the world.

Of his mother, Edison said many years later,

My mother was the making of me. She was so true, so sure of me, and I felt I had some one to live for, some one I must not disappoint.

Clearly, Mrs. Edison was a mother who thought outside the box, who challenged convention because it was failing her own child in a big way. I like to think that young Thomas inherited her sense of questioning the status quo and pursuing new and better ways.

From Edison and his mother, we’re inspired to embrace the potential of a child’s curiosity and to never underestimate the privilege and responsibility we’ve been given to help make our children who they will one day be. This is both terrifying and empowering isn’t it? But throughout the ages, God has given mothers and fathers wisdom to see in our children what others may overlook.

Sometimes this requires teaching our unconventional child at home or finding a school that has a place for the unique way his mind works.

Sometimes this means community action that bears fruit for all the children, not just our own.

Always it means this — we need to slow down long enough to pay attention, to notice the becoming, and to ask what we can do to open wide the door of possibility for children.

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Do you know a person of influence with a unique educational background?

For all the posts in this 31-day series, go here.

I’m linking up with The Nester and her tribe of 31 Dayers.