I am reflecting on the highs and lows of the last few years. I’m remembering the things that worked and the things that didn’t, and oddly enough, I’m feeling true gratefulness for both. Funny how much we can learn from things that don’t work. The icky collapsed messes of life can help us refine what does and does not work and oftentimes, give us a better eye for the beauty in both. I have a wobbly looking pencil cup fashioned out of clay on my desk. It’s misshapen and bulging on one end and somewhat smooth and almost graceful on the other end. It was made by a golden haired boy with pink cheeks and skinned knees who, a mere two hours before sitting at the wheel to throw his clay, declared “I HATE the book you’re reading to us and math is the worst and I don’t want to do school with you ever again!” Well, he sat at that wheel and tried over and over again to get his lump of soggy clay to form well. He envisioned something strong and beautiful and perfect and honest but his clumsy hands kept making mistake after mistake. He sat down to make a cup and instead learned that sometimes no matter how hard your heart wills the clay to form it will not obey. He filled the small cavern of his palm with water and plunged into the lumpy cup once more, pressing down and willing it to leap to life again. The cup would form and for one glorious moment, everything seemed like it was working until it wasn’t and it all collapsed again. He kept at it. Listening to guidance from his teacher, trying a new technique, figuring out how to time his movements and pressure. He made a cup. Half beauty, half ugly, all grace. As time passed more cups were made, lovely ones, proudly displayed in his room or on the shelves of our library. But the cup I love most, the one made of mistakes covered in grace, is the one that sits on my desk. The one I look at each spring when it’s time to plan another school term. I think about timing and pressure and beauty and mistakes and clumsiness and guidance as we try to translate all the beauty we envision for our family into real PRACTICING. I behold that beautiful, hopeful, determined little cup and am thankful for it all.
Today we are practicing “endless echoes,” as Mother Teresa so wisely described the power of kind words. My little boy’s face lit up when his brothers cheered him on to finish the last page of his work. When it was done, he beamed and we could see the echo of our words filling his heart and mind. I love these small tender moments that lay the foundation for something so much bigger than I can imagine right now. I set timers on my phone today for each child, morning and afternoon. A reminder to whisper an echo into the deep well of their soul so it can echo back and out into the world around them. I am painfully aware that words are my gift when well chosen and my downfall when poorly fashioned. Motherhood repeatedly reminds me to use my words well, to build up rather than tear down. They’ll have many teachers throughout their lives but only one mother. In the midst of teaching and guiding and correcting, I never want to lose sight of our relationship and the chance I have now to speak kindness and love and life into their hearts. The real gift is not my speaking them, but the heart breaking miracle of hearing them echoed back at me from my children when I forget to be kind. Now I’m off to practice these words. Happy Wednesday, friends. 🐫 🙌🏼❤️
About two months ago I asked my boys a question. “Is there something really important, something you love and value, that we don’t do enough of together?” All four had the same answer, “go to the beach.” Fair enough. I promised them we would go to the beach every week this year. My eldest then asked me, “how about you, mom?” I was surprised to hear myself answering, “Pictures. It would mean a lot to me to have pictures of us together. Pictures of me being a mom.” I started crying. They all looked at me in surprise. “Remember how my friend Jen is sick? She loves being a mom. I love being a mom too. I want to remember these days with you. I want to drink it all in,” I said. The youngest put his hand on mine and dropped his head against my shoulder. “It’s good to let sad happen,” he reassured me. The older ones said they’d start taking pictures. ❤️That night I wrote each of them a love letter and the next day, we started our new tradition of going to the beach once a week. Part of my heart is in Long Beach today, Celebrating the home going of dear @jennifernaraki. The rest of my heart is here at home, determined to drink it all in, to faithfully visit the beach, to write love letters, to listen to endless rambling stories about dragons, to bake bread, to protect my health, to remember these days with my boys, to fight for our story the way Jen did. (Listen to her Wimberly talk @wildandfree.co if you haven’t yet!) Praying for the Naraki family, for her community and church in Long Beach, and for everyone who gathers today in body or in spirit to honor Jen and celebrate her homecoming. If you haven’t heard yet, the service will be live streamed on IG at 4pm PST. This afternoon I stood beside my youngest as he kneaded dough into a stringy mess. “Mama, is your heart sad today?” I told him that it was both happy and sad. “I see that,” he patted my arm, “you stay with me and I’ll be with you.” I heard a click and saw my second born snapping photos. I drank it all in. ❤️ Welcome home, dear heart. We Praise God for the life you lived so well.
Grateful for this little moment captured by one of my older boys. We had many frustrating moments today. After the fun of hosting our local @wildandfree.co craft fair, everything quickly spiraled downward. We came home from our final errand of the day and even though I spent the early afternoon short tempered and cranky, my youngest crawled into my lap and kissed me, held my face, offered me his sensory headphones, hugged me and told me I’d feel better after my nap. 😂 I have no wise or pretty words for all that happened today. It was good to see our friends. It was hard to adjust and decompress afterwards. It’s hard to be met with your own ugly behavior. It was good to receive grace from my children. The raw moments of homeschooling, parenting, living, etc give us an opportunity to lean in and learn. There has been a lot of rawness today. Lord, may there be deep humility so that learning may be in abundance too ✨🙌🏼 And now, it’s time for books and tea ☕️ 📚 ✌🏽
Love at first like. @jennifernaraki and I met on IG though @wildandfree.co a few years ago. Here is what I learned in the time our stories intersected. Jen was always eager to know. She’d stop to look at small details on a city walk, not merely noticing, but stopping to know. This extended to people. Jen wanted to know and let herself be known. She stopped to know others, encourage them, laugh with them, build them up. She freely shared her struggles and the grace of God in her life. Lunch took TIME because we would be savoring LIFE. She managed to send texts that would leave me laughing one minute and teary the next. She was always ready to laugh loudly and fully, no demure giggles for her. She knew how to be inappropriate at exactly the right time. She had a ferocious love for Scot, her boys, her family, her community of friends. We lived on opposite sides of the country, and only saw each other IRL about four times. But the time we had was more than enough for me to know that I’ll love her, always. Last March, Jen and I talked for over an hour backstage at the W+F conference. We giggled and ate giant voodoo donuts and talked about the miracle of remission and plans for the future. It was glorious. Mere weeks later the cancer was back and anger moved in swiftly and has hovered ever since. It’s not anger at God. It’s anger at the brokenness of the world. We were not created for death, we were created for life. This feels wrong because it is wrong. I am angry at the brokenness of the world that leaves so many bleeding hearts behind at the loss of this cherished soul. But that’s not the end of the story is it? We have hope. We have victory. We have a savior. Meeting Jen, knowing Jen and being known by Jen, even in this small measure, had an impact on my life. I’ll miss her funny texts and her goofy laugh and her willingness to dance like no one is watching when in fact hundreds of people are actually watching and she’s made me dance too. Her sneakiness, her glee, her random complaints, her joy, her fighting spirit, her zeal for life, her scary accurate bitmojis. If you don’t know her story, head over to @jennifernaraki and read the story of a life well lived. ✨
Last week a repairman came to fix the wireless. Rain poured outside the window. Children practiced the piano and fixed snacks and read books and painted and built LEGO castles and set up board games in the living room. At the end of his visit he said, “I think I forgot how much kids can do when they don’t have a TV or video games. I gotta go be a mean dad and take tv and video games away from my kids so they can be this creative.” My eldest laughed a bit, “um, we do get to watch movies and on Fridays we get 20 minutes of game time.” The man shrugged, “but still, you guys don’t have a TV and so you don’t have a choice right? You gotta settle for something else?” He turned to me and started explaining the new changes with our internet. Before he left my son added just one more thing, “You know sir, it’s not just about what you stay away from, it’s what you spend time building. It’s not like these other things are distracting us from wanting TV. We just learned from watching mom and dad that we can enjoy movies but it’s the stuff we’re building and loving and making space for that lets us exercise creativity. And telling stories through film can be good too. So it’s building instead of settling for something less than. If that makes sense? Anyway, I think that’s what makes the difference.” This from the child in our family most attracted to screens. 😭😭 I’m so glad the message slowly reached his heart over time. I’m glad he was able to speak bravely to an adult and gently make a clarification about something important to him. (gasp! Is he socialized?) Most of all I am glad that children don’t need long lectures to grasp what’s happening all around them. Keep faithfully modeling the vision friends, they may not get it overnight, they may not verbally express it on your timetable, but your faithfulness is leaving an impression. ✨
Hi there!
I was wondering if you could give me a bit of advice on MFW. I have scoured blog posts and recommendations and have thoroughly read through your experience with MFW- that being said. having to do it over, would you chose MFW for ECC again? Or would you chose a different path? I am trying to decide where to go for fourth grade history for my 9 year old son We had a rough go with another curriculum for American History and I don’t feel like he truly grasped the beauty of Am history– I’m torn whether or not to spend another year in it — or chug along. MFW was the route I was looking to go for this school year after much consideration, and after reading your blog I thought you might have some insight/ advice on where I go next. thanks for your time and consideration, and thank you for pouring your heart into your blog and IG account, I look forward to the little snapshots of your family’s homeschool adventures each week.
blessings.
nicole.
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hi! where’s your recap on russia, australia, and antartica? i love cheking your blog for your experiences!
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