I’m not where I wanted to be. As I sit here, I’m surrounded by my 3 kids, each working diligently on the school work that was on my list to do during July. I sigh. I feel guilty. I cringe at the thought of being behind. I wonder if I had been more diligent this summer, if I had said no to some of the fun things, would we be farther along? I start to feel a bit frantic and think I have to catch up.
And then I stop. Because it’s so darn easy to guilt-trip myself into utter despair, I’m not paying attention to the most important things. I’m sitting here, surrounded by my kids, each diligently working. Is there something better than what I’m doing at this moment? Is there a more rewarding enterprise to be desired than having my 3 children, 5, 6 and 9 all learning together and me intimately acquainted with what they are learning and how they learn? I know that my math approach has failed my daughter’s learning style and am watching eagerly to see if we have hopefully made the necessary corrections to give her her confidence back. I know Isaac is a smart boy who will easily get discouraged if I teach him like I teach his sister. As a tactile learner, his challenge (and mine) is having a love of reading when it’s an auditory and visual skill. And I watch my Jake, as he insists on holding his pencil completely wrong, but makes good letters doing it.
It’s crazy to freak out. It’s crazy to sit here and guilt myself over content when the substance of what is happening is life long learning. It’s shaping souls, letting them see that goals are set and sometimes they are not met. It’s starting a book or path and realizing part of the way that it’s not the best. It’s asking questions, crying over math concepts together, reminding myself and my kids that we learn because it is our glory to do so (Prov 25:2). It’s hard. But that is okay. Our culture has become so fearful of hard. With ads stating they make it easy, or we believe in easy…we become so brainwashed that if a thing is difficult it must be wrong. Or we focus on the hard parts and become so discouraged that we don’t see what good things are staring at us.
Dare to look for them this week. I know I am.