Lisa is a Christian homeschooling mom, freelance writer, creator, and power napper. She and her husband are raising their eleven children in the rural Midwest. When she's not juggling laundry loads or stepping on Legos, she likes to read, walk and sew.
It’s a little late for Mother’s Day and National Teacher Appreciation Week, but I am reposting this blog post, originally published on May 9, 2018 ~ in celebration of homeschooling moms everywhere.
The homeschooling mother has no paycheck, union, or prep hour
She wears a comfortable uniform and decorates with toddler art
She doesn’t weave her way through crowded hallways
She treads a path littered with laundry and Legos
She doesn’t eat her lunch in the Teacher’s Lounge
She nibbles between dish-doing and question-answering
When a stranger asks her daughter,
“What’s 3 x 4?”
And her daughter looks at the ceiling
And her son doesn’t seem to know his countries from his states
The homeschooling mother never says,
“What are they teaching you at school?”
She just blushes
and vows to get out the flashcards.
But the homeschooling mother’s students:
Can divide the last cookie into perfect thirds
Know how to survive in the Arctic
Translate Latin phrases
Play Bach on a violin
Have stepped into the Middle Ages — in costume
Know where to find the beginning of wisdom
Have looked at the Civil War from the eyes of South, North and the Native American
(And can tell you what else was going on in the world at the same time)
Perform chemistry magic using home ingredients
Talk to nursing home residents without flinching
And, they can tell you in which episode Eugene went missing from the town of Odyssey.
And with your final heartbeat, kiss the world goodbye Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory’s side And fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus and live.
~ Chris Rice
~~~
Psalm 39:4
“Lord, make me to know my end
And what is the extent of my days;
Let me know how transient I am.
~~~
Romans 14:8
For if we live, we live for the Lord, or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.
I hauled two busy boys along on a walk last Monday.
I warned them in my best tough-mom voice:
“We will walk ten miles today, boys. If you want your water bottle, carry it yourself. If you grumble and whine, you will not get a treat at the end. You can do this. We can do this. Let’s go build some muscle, guys!”
So we started off on a well known path.
They were trailing behind me.
Perfect time for me to whip out my earbuds and listen to my own audiobook.
Peace and quiet and lovely time to myself.
Nah, I will wait a little.
Then it got noisy.
That throaty, burping frog pond.
That airy, whistling, bird choir.
The rustles in the dry leaves of tiny who-knows-whats.
I couldn’t miss this.
Spring was waking up here.
The sun was melting my winter slouch.
My ears were being treated to a magnificent, miraculous, musical racket.
“Make a joyful noise,” said the psalmist.
Maybe this is what he meant.
~~~~
Psalm 100
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing!
Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name!
For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.
~~~
This is my Father’s world: The birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, Declare their Maker’s praise. This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair; In the rustling grass I hear Him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.
–from the 1901 hymn “This is My Father’s World” / lyrics by Maltbie D. Babcock
When most of my people have exited the house on a busy Saturday, then my brain has a chance to focus on the few who are still at home for the day.
Today’s “brain focus target” is my youngest daughter, Ava.
When Ava was born, she looked like a beautiful, brown-skinned Nunavut native. “Our Eskimo baby”, we called her.
Ava then….
Ava now.
Ava means “birdlike”, which suits her, because she likes to feed suet and seed to the many hungry birds who flit around our rural property. She also likes to paint with watercolors, but she doesn’t favor anyone hovering over her shoulder while she works.
Ava hangs suet out in the backyard.
One of Ava’s trademark silhouette nature scenes.
She makes thick, fruity smoothies that overflow a pint-sized Mason jar, and she has a favorite book series about Peter Pan that she has read several times.
If this was a photo of one of Ava’s real smoothies, it would be heaped up and spilling down the side.
Peter & the Starcatchers Series by Ridley Pearson & Dave Barry
Today, I worked in my room while Ava sat at my desk and browsed over the latest library book Beautiful Boards, a photo cookbook of appealing snack boards you can create at home.
Then I rested on the sofa with a headache and when I woke up, Ava had made lunch.
Ava browsed this book…
…and an hour later she made a creatively displayed lunch, inspired by the book.
“I saved something for you…” she said.
“ARE YOU THE BEST?!” I asked her. “…THE BEST?!”
Then I ran off after her, laughing and calling out: “ANSWER ME!”
The beach is mesmerizing, and I could sit and watch the translucent-teal waves foam up on the sand all day long.
The way God fashioned waves is a repeating design pattern in life…but that is another blog post in itself.
Hypnotic waves on Miami Beach
Patterns & People
Last night, after the beach, after makeup removal, after getting cozy on my chair, Gino asked me to go for a walk around the colorful 4 x 4 block radius that we have called “home” this past week, where he has explored so much more than I.
How could I say no?
The air was balmy on our last night, as he led me through the upscale design district in my pre-bedtime state of appearance. We pranced right through a busy, outdoor bar where fancy people chatted in a courtyard. We weaved through a maze of colors and patterns, past designer shops with their sparsely-chic shelves and products. Everywhere we went, it smelled like someone wearing high-end perfume had just recently sailed through.
The abundant patterns and colors of the Miami Design District
Goodbye, Miami
All good things must come to an end.
Geoffrey Chaucer
When I start calling our place “home”…
When I start thinking about a Starbucks run every day at 3 p.m. just because it is within walking distance…
When I start swaying to Latino rap like it’s normal (all those Uber rides)…
Then I know it is time to hightail my homeschool-mom-self back to the Midwest.
“I will sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me!” — Psalm 13:6
You might think it is strange for a mother to accompany her son to Miami for Spring Break, but here is how it happened…
My 20-year-old son Gino, who is taking online college classes, announced that he wanted to take a trip to Florida for spring break. After considering this, I mused aloud…
“It would be fun to go with you.
I wonder if I could swing it.
Would you hate that?”
Then, I let it rest.
A few days later, he said, “That would actually be nice — you going with me.”
“REALLY??!!!!?” I asked.
My husband agreed, home duties were delegated, and so it was planned. Gino reserved our flights and our spot at a spacious 2 bedroom Airbnb.
Day One
Arriving in Miami
We landed at 11:00 a.m. and basked in the 35 degree temperature change. We rode to our neighborhood, but the place wouldn’t be ready until 3:00 p.m. Gino stopped at Target and met me later, where I was lounging outside under the palm trees at a Starbucks. We hung out there before walking a few short blocks to our lovely little duplex in the Miami Design District.
First Meal, Best Meal
Since Gino and I had been up at 4:00 a.m. for our 6:30 flight, and we hadn’t eaten a solid meal all day, we decided to go to Versailles Restaurant, whose tagline is: “The World’s Most Famous Cuban Restaurant.” My Cuban-born husband and I discovered it when we went to Miami years ago, and its mouthwatering fare has haunted us ever since. Gino and I both ordered the Classic Cuban Sampler Platter. He polished it off, and I brought home half to enjoy tomorrow.
Day Two
Frank from Instacart left two grocery bags on our doorstep at 7:55 a.m. Gino went walking. I wrote out my own paraphrase of Psalm 9 and pasted it up on our refrigerator. The morning was leisurely, but our goal today was to hit the beach!
Uberimmediately
Gino takes care of (and pays for) our Uber rides and I am grateful, since I am quite unfamiliar with all that. Today, Gino asked, “Should I call for an UBER?”
“Sure.”
I started thinking about what to pack for a day at the beach, such as my:
walking shoes
snacks
sunscreen
lip balm
sunglasses
reading glasses
water bottles
earbuds
…and suddenly Gino announced:
“Okay, he will be here in one minute.”
Whaaaaa?!
I rushed to cram everything into my backpack, and bumbled awkwardly into the car as I simultaneously strapped on a mask. I looked at Gino, who was calmly sitting there with absolutely nothing in his hands.
“Do you have everything?” I asked.
“Yep.” he said.
Miami Beach
Once we arrived at Miami Beach it was breezy and around 70 degrees, but the sun peeked out from time to time, which gave stunning photos!
We split up when we reached the sand: I walked north and Gino walked south. I trudged happily six miles along the windy, lapping shore, searching in vain for large shells, but finding bouquets of sea vegetation and washed-up iridescent jellyfish.
After a few hours of walking, I headed west to the paved pathway that runs parallel to the beach. I found a bike rental kiosk and on a whim, rented a Citibike for two hours.
After 20 minutes, I met up with Gino on the path (where I shared some of my snacks with him, since he had come without any…hehe) and after an hour and a half, we met up again at the kiosk and planned to get a ride home.
Once again, I had barely untangled myself from the bike and gathered up my bulky wares, when Gino said, “Okay, our ride is almost here.”
Tweaking Expectations
After getting home, he showered off all of the sand, came out of the bathroom and said:
You know you can go places without me, right?
This struck me as a strange juxtaposition of the parent-child relationship, but maybe this is the emerging story of aging and could I possibly be on the brink already?
To reassure him that I was capable, I took off for a walk to Target when he wasn’t looking, and I forced myself to take extra time browsing so I wouldn’t get home too soon.
As I was heading home, whom do I see on the sidewalk, but my own son, giving me a minimalist smile in exchange for my motherly wave hello?
I got home and boldly drank strawberry kombucha out of a wine glass.
Day Three
Gino moves in and out of this place like a Ninja. One minute, I hear him exiting the bathroom, and the next minute I walk out to the living room and notice that his shoes and keys are gone.
So, to prevent myself from calling out his name just to see if he is still here (I think this annoys him) I have resorted to checking his Google location (a temporary, trip-only concession).
This morning, I told him that I’m going to stick around home and relax.
“I will probably walk over to Starbucks later this afternoon,” I said, hoping this would impress him.
But tomorrow — our last full day — I definitely want to go back to THE BEACH!
Named as one of His followers, longing for heaven —
Glorifying God in it all.
—-
“Easy to scrawl the words, harder to live out. All by God’s grace.” ~ Me
“Nobody likes 1 Peter 4:12-19!” — Pastor Troy Dobbs
“The real problem is not why some pious, humble, believing people suffer, but why some do not.” ~ C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
“When suffering, rise to the occasion. Do what the trial demands of you.” ~ Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
“Why do you always have to cry?” ~ what my 12-year old son said to me after I listened to an uplifting sermon about suffering
—
12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. 14 If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. 15 But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. 16 Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. 17 For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God? 18 And
“If the righteous is scarcely saved,
what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?”
19 Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good. — 1 Peter 4:12-19 ESV
We just wanted to touch base and let you know that, despite all of your villainous efforts, we are grateful you came along.
When we first saw you come into our lives (thankfully, late — around the first part of December) we weren’t so sure. What with isolating mandates and masks in play, we didn’t exactly welcome anything else that would disrupt life.
Covid Winter, you were a taker — upsetting plans and outings with cancelled meetings and closed public places. You tried to ruin our lives with blizzard warnings, wind chills and the fear-mongering tactics of icy roads, spin-outs and accident reports. Oh, you weren’t just a taker, you were a giver, for sure:
Instead of red hearts, you gave us those red hazard triangles on our screens — those weather alerts that made chills run down our spines. (As if we didn’t already have enough chills running down our spines.)
You gave us a frozen laundry pipe, so we had to manually drain the loads.
You gave us an opportunity to park outside, because the garage door froze in its tracks and the spring broke.
You gave us cracks on our skin and frost on our windshields.
And that brings us to why we are grateful — despite all of your endeavors to make us miserable. Even though you tried to give us your worst, we are emerging victorious. We are adding books to our Goodreads list like crazy, creating delightful things in the kitchen, and focusing on home repair. We stayed on top of our homeschooling, with limited outings or events that would have distracted us from our schedule. We haven’t wasted time on the library computers, loitering in coffee shops or browsing in stores. We have found fun things to do at home, and some of us have:
Become yoyo experts
Recently read or re-read one or more entire series of books
Returned to daily violin playing
Affirmed that there is no bad weather, only bad clothing
Made and eaten soup every day, realizing that you don’t really need a recipe
Written and received snail-mail letters regularly
Discovered and excelled at watercolor painting
Covid Winter, you have given us what spring, summer and fall have not been able to give.
And, for that…we say a big “Th-th-thank Y-you.”
~~~
When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here in February, and basking in the warmth of our books, our soups, our blankets and our cozy naps, we couldn’t imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.
[ this was written by my son and reposted from his blog ]
Dear Father,
It seems an odd thing to miss someone who you’ve never met in person. However, recently I have felt an intense urge to be with you. I long for the day that I can stand in your presence and look you in the face. I cannot wait for the day that this mirage of a life no longer separates us. In the meantime, I know I have my instructions. I am to run around this darkening world giving light to those who will receive it. Please allow me to be used by you in the way that brings you the most glory. Give me the ability to love others the way you do father. To think, you came to this desolate place so many years ago to save me from my sin! Father, it’s almost too much to comprehend.
You reached out your hand to me. The thing that breaks my heart is that while you sought me, I ran as fast as I could away from you. I wanted nothing to do with you. Nobody on this earth seeks you. God, but you are the only one who offers life and true happiness. I am here on my knees tonight, Lord. I am a broken soul that comes to you for mending. You are the author of the entire book, and even though the book has countless pages and numerous characters I was among those you picked to spread your message of hope. Every day I wonder how you could even use me for such an important mission.
Give me your strength Lord! Help me do all I can to spread your message of love to the world. You have given your sons and daughters the responsibility of getting people ready. One day you will be back. And it won’t be like the last time you were here. When you make your return Lord, everyone will know it. The sky will open with the sound of trumpets, you will descend ready to greet your children. Help me to have done all I can till that day father. Cause me to remember that everyone I encounter is an eternal soul. Everyone is in the same boat before you. Nobody deserves anything good, yet you offer the best thing to the worst of sinners. Thank you, God.
My Word Soup 