The Start of Another School Year

I finally finished lesson planning today. With five days to go. I am so thankful, because that means I can take the kids to the beach tomorrow without lugging along a textbook. And I can relax and soak in the last few days of calm.

I am hoping (and praying, of course) that this year will be different. It almost wasn't. A month ago, I was on the verge of going crazy while lesson planning, because I was worried about my sophomore son not having a biology class and I wasn't sure how I was going to teach him second-year French while my freshman daughter is still in first-year. I would lie in bed at night and try to see the situation from all sides, working it like a puzzle, and fretting about the outcome if I should fail to find a solution.

Thank God for Teaching from Rest by Sarah Mackenzie. I had heard about this book from many of my homeschooling friends, and when I saw it on sale online, I grabbed it. 77 pages. I can do that, I thought. Maybe I'll get something from it.

Right off the bat, I found myself agreeing with Sarah wholeheartedly.

The heart of this book is about remembering what our true task really is, and then throwing ourselves in completely. Giving our all. The raising of children, the teaching of truth, the sharing of life, the nourishment of imagination, and the cultivating of wisdom: These are all His anyway; we are merely His servants.

Yep, that's me! And that's why I'm up at night worrying! So then, how do I rest?

Sarah answers that question in the next chapter.

Rest begins with acceptance. Or, perhaps more accurately, with surrender. There will always be more you can do. You will never complete tasks entirely, because just on the horizon is tomorrow, and tomorrow the to-do list starts anew. It is so exhausting–sometimes even demoralizing–to realize that our work in raising up and teaching our children is never really done. But we must remember that we were never intended to finish it.

The more I read, the more I realized my mistakes in the past year. I had let the pressure of "high school" change my goals in homeschooling. I was approaching my son's high school years like I had approached mine, where I had planned every step and every class to ensure that doors would be open to me. Like any good mother, I want to give my son every opportunity! But the reality is that I can never give my son every opportunity. There are not enough hours in the day, or money in my bank. And that was stressing me out.

I needed to learn to rest, and as Sarah writes, "rest begins with acceptance."

We can't really rest in God's care until we trust that He will indeed care for us. And that means I can't teach from rest unless I trust Him with my kids' education too. I am not meant to take on this task of teaching and raising my children in my own strength, and neither are you. We are, however, meant to recognize every facet of our day as coming from the hand of God. It all passed through His fingers first, and He uses it to make sure that we lean hard on Him.

And isn't that what I saw in my own education? I was accepted to UC Berkeley based on test scores and grades, not based on what they actually knew about me. If they had known me, they would have known that I was interested in education, and UC Berkeley would extinguish that fire in me. They also would have known that I wanted to perform music, and so would have recommended UC Irvine instead. But God, my Maker, who knows me through and through, helped me get accepted to UC Berkeley because it really was the perfect place for me to develop my musical talents. The small and unique music department at that school was exactly what I needed to flourish and grow, while the campus's atheistic atmosphere challenged my faith. God knew exactly what I needed.

And that is where I am now with my children's education. I stopped worrying about biology and French 2 for my son. I remembered that I am not teaching so that I can brandish my son's impressive transcript (and therefore prove that I am a capable educator), but that I am teaching to nurture a man. That means spending more time this year on reading and less on grammar workbooks. That means reviewing French 1 with him and cementing more of those tricky verb conjugations in his head. And it means enjoying my last three years with my oldest. And if somewhere down the line, he needs to take a year or two at a community college to meet a requirement for a specific university, so be it. It is not the end of the world. God knows exactly what my son needs, and I trust that He is the one directing his path.

I will end with Sarah's words.

It's important to remember that rest is not ease. This isn't idealism. It isn't simple and peaceful in the sense of being easy or gentle. Teaching from rest is meaningful learning and growth–but without the anxiety and frenzy so common in our day...Peace comes from recognizing that our real task is to wake up each day and get our marching orders from God. It comes from diligence to the work He hands us, but diligence infused with faith, with resting in a God's promises to guide and bless us.

To all you homeschooling parents out there, here's to another year of restful and fruitful learning!

Ploughing Through

Lately, I haven't felt inspired in the kitchen. Seeing the beautiful colors in the produce aisles doesn't excite me like they used to. Even my usual sure-fire solution of checking out cookbooks from the library hasn't motivated me. And watching old episodes of Master Chef Junior only makes me feel more incompetent. 

But I keep cooking, because I have to feed my hoard of children. Spaghetti. Burrito night. Chicken stir-fry. At least that's better than fast food and less expensive than prefab meals.

I realized this morning, as I was whipping up some boring ol' scrambled eggs for breakfast, that what I'm doing it with cooking is exactly what I do with any creative endeavor. Whether it's drawing, writing, or playing music, there are times when you just "have to" do it. Creative professionals always say, "You can't wait for inspiration to hit. Your craft must become a habit, a job, a task you do even when you don't feel like it." You don't let un-inpiration stop you; you plough through it. And if you draw one thing a day, you slowly get better. If you write or edit a page a day, you do finish your novel. Somedays, you feel like you played 'Rhapsody in Blue' better than Gershwin himself; other days, you feel like you barely managed to play your scales.

The same applies to our Christian walk. In 2016 and 2017, I was in Bible studies and giving talks. So far this year, I have done none of that. I don't have the energy to ponder the deeper things of God, only the little things. And that's okay. As long as I'm faithfully walking with my Lord, I'm in good hands. He doesn't ask that I be always energetically running or joyfully skipping by His side, He only asks that I follow. 

So I'm crawling after Him right now, ploughing through fatigue, selfish thoughts, discouragement, and un-inspiration. But I know that He will provide the energy and the joy. He will draw me into the deeper things. He will be my inspiration.

Humble Like a Child

I am fascinated by babies.

I love seeing their personalities unfold, starting from Day 1.

I am awed by the way their brains learn and grow, and amused when their bodies can't keep up.

And every time I observe a baby in her helplessness–needing me to feed, clean, soothe, and love her–I clearly see a reflection of my own relationship with my Heavenly Father.

Take today, for example.


My youngest eagerly wants to grow up and copy her siblings in everything. She loves sitting at the table with us and eating her baby cereal; sometimes she is so impatient, she'll cry in between bites. This morning, as I held the food up to her open mouth, she grabbed the spoon and tried to feed herself. She did okay (though she ended up with cereal all over her face, hands, and feet even!) and happily chewed on the spoon and whatever cereal was left on it. I then tried to take the spoon from her, but her grip on it clearly told me, "No! You can't take it from me, Mama!" She didn't understand that I wanted to take the spoon only to give her more cereal! She was happy with an empty spoon, and cried when I took away what she thought was the best! 

As this was happening, I was chuckling to myself, but also thinking of how often I have fought to keep something that I thought was good, when God wanted only to give me something better. Time and time again I think I know best, or I try to be self-reliant, when I am really more like a baby than I want to admit. I need to learn that I am not, and cannot be, fully independent. I am created to need God. I am created to delight in Him as my baby delights in me. I am created to be fully at peace only when I am resting in my Father's arms. 

Jesus says, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4).

And that is easier said than done, especially for me.

I did figure out a solution to the spoon problem. I use two spoons, so the baby can contentedly chew on one while I feed her with the other.

Maybe that's what God does with me too sometimes. He lets me hold on to my little treasures, while He continues to give me what I truly need. Which shows you just how much my gracious Heavenly Father loves me.

A Work in Progress

Petit à Petit

Growing up, my family did not have much money for furniture and household items. Most of what we owned were second-hand, which meant I did not have a say in what my bedroom looked like. I learned to be grateful for what I received and creative with what I had.

One day, when I was a teenager, my parents had me pick out a lamp and window valances for my room. For the first time, I had to think beyond the practical and ask myself, "What do I like?"

To the surprise of everyone, I picked out a Tiffany style lamp and ivory crocheted valances! To this day, I love stained glass and crocheted things!

My journey as wife and mother has been similar. My husband and I started off with mostly hand-me-down couches, vacuum cleaners, tables, and chairs. Then one year, I asked my husband that instead of Christmas presents, we go out and buy our very own coffee table. And slowly, ever so slowly, I've furnished my house and discovered my style along the way. I know now that I love rustic wood and antiques. I also love color and organic prints, especially florals. It may be decades before my home looks "done", but that's okay, I still have time to discover myself. My home is always a work in progress. As the French say, Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid. (Translated, it means, "Little by little, the bird builds its nest.")

I chose to write about this now (and do a little pencil sketch of a jay working on its nest) to remind myself that most things in my life is petit à petit: not just decorating but organizing my home in a way so that it runs efficiently, learning to manage my curly hair, discovering my fashion sense, homeschooling (every year I'm teaching a new grade!), parenting, marriage, understanding the Bible…sometimes I wish I had everything figured out, but that is never the case! My life is a work in progress, and though I grow impatient because I want instant results (or envious when I visit someone's beautiful home or admire someone's luxurious hair), I must remember that "little by little" is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, God is shaping me, moment by moment, and just as my home slowly reflect my personality more and more, I will slowly reflect God more and more. And I get excited just thinking about the ways He is growing me and the beautiful things He has planned for me! I am the ultimate Work in Progress!