Hooray for the first day of school!! That would normally be my first thought on the second Thursday in August….new teachers, new classrooms, possibly some new friends for my girls and getting to see friends we didn’t quite catch up with over the summer. Today, though, today I had some bitterness in my heart. Today, we struggled to make it through day four of home-school. There were no first day photos of my girls in their cute little uniforms with abnormally large bows (that I may or may not force them to wear because-FIRST.DAY.) and brand new sneakers with whatever irritatingly cute or not backpack they chose for school this year. The only tears in this house were out of frustration and irritation and “I give ups.”. There was no coffee in peace while Little Man played quietly in his room or quiet snuggles while reading him his latest book of choice. There were no breaks for this Mama on the first day of school and my heart was ugly today.
This week we’ve started school no later than 7 a.m. and this morning was no different as we got going at 6:50. Sissy is an early riser and since moving out West, Little Man is too. We start early because J is still home and he can maneuver and manage Little Man at least long enough for me to get Sissy through her math lesson for the day. Mouse, well, she’s a different bird altogether. She has a similar attitude towards mornings as her Mama and we prefer not. As in, we prefer not to do mornings if we just don’t have too. So, she doesn’t. She wakes up around 7:30 as J is walking out the door and comes in for a little snuggle before proclaiming she is both cold and hungry. While this sounds glorious in theory, it is hard. It makes for long mornings, especially on a day like today when Mama really just wants to call it quits. Mouse was miserably whiney, Sissy was trying to “mother hen” her siblings and Little Man just wanted anything and everything except what was being offered. Today, by 8 am I wanted to give up. By 9:30, I had lost my cool with one or more of my children multiple times and had asked forgiveness of the tiny army that was gaining speed in my immediate defeat more times than I’d like to openly admit. At 11:30, with most everything accomplished aside from those topics we chose, as a unit, to complete after quiet time, I rounded the troops and we went out to the track. The girls rode bikes and Little Man rode in the stroller while I ran. Hot, you ask? Disgustingly. But, y’all, there was peace.
Transitioning a family, no matter the size, is hard. Transitioning to a remote location where internet is a luxury and the nearest Target is three hours away is hard. Transitioning from a traditional education to a home-school education is hard and when you add in all the other transition on top, it becomes nearly impossible some days. But God.
As I was running, this blog literally sprang into my spirit. I’ve never done life the easy way. As a child, I was notorious for choosing to learn lessons the hard way and if I’m being completely honest there’s been a lot of that in my adulthood as well. As a professional, I ALWAYS worked with hard kids. They are seriously my favorite kind of child with which to work. I love all their cracks and crevices and unknowns. I love finding the beauty deep inside their minds and hearts and getting down to the nitty gritty of who they are. My compassion for children from hard places is almost limitless. You give me a reason why they can’t or shouldn’t be able to do one thing or another and I can give you five reasons they should. However, I’m finding with my own little ones, my compassion is sometimes (often) in short supply. I admit this begrudgingly. Three years ago I would never have admitted this little nugget to myself, much less all of you, but I’m learning there’s so much healing and beauty in the ugliness of everyday, ordinary life. While I am teaching my littles, they are teaching me. I’ve learned more about myself this week (not much of it good) than I ever imagined I would. I’m walking in some unknown territory and that’s incredibly uncomfortable for me. I don’t like the unknown and as I spoke about briefly in my first blog, I don’t like to be out of control. This week has been a reality check for me…again. I’m not in control and never was. God must really get a kick out of my hamster wheel tendencies. I do. I’m seriously chuckling to myself as I type. Unhealthy much?
So, anyway, while I was wallowing in my self pity about all the rocks and hard places I’m watching my family walk through as we adjust to this new way of life, my Father gently reminded me that His grace is sufficient for me. His grace is sufficient for my husband and my children and every single one of the new faces we’ll meet and have the honor of building relationship with and loving. Even cooler than His grace being sufficient for me, I get a daily supply of my own grace and y’all, I get to choose grace. Not just for my kids and husband but for myself. I get to choose grace because He chose grace all those many years ago. I get to choose peace because He died to give it to me.
So, no, this new road isn’t going to be easy. He never claimed a life with Him would be…I’d rather do life with Him than without Him.
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified. What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” Romans 8:28-31
Beautiful Harvest Project 