Things I’ve learned in cleaning out my closet.

First: I’m great at starting things and terrible at following through. I think most people I know fall into this to some degree or another, but the greatest evidence of this in the clutter I found was the countless journals. Each one would begin strongly and end before the pages were filled. Calendars were similar…lots of notes in the early months, tapering off to nothing notable by the end.

Yes, this does terrify me when I think of homeschooling. I do not want to fall into the easy temptation of starting well and finishing poorly.

Makes me think of the Eugene Peterson book titled, “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.”  Such a visual example to me of how easy it is to get lazy.

Second: I don’t like to throw things away. Catalogs. Notes. Papers. School papers. Drawings. Notebooks. Pictures. Scribbles.  Yep, after 9 garbage bags (I told you it was a big closet!!) I am aware that I need to throw more things away. I filled up boxes for each of the boys with school papers and drawings and cards from their grandparents and friends. Little things to look back on some day and remember. Which leads me to number three.

Third:  I’m really glad I don’t like to throw things away. Okay, I could do better with the scribbles and the catalogs. I found, however, the history of the last few years in the cards that my folks have sent. The messages from my mom of well-wishes for birthdays or get well cards when someone was sick. Notes that were in her familiar pen (and I can picture her hands as I think of this), that began to be not so familiar. Shorter messages with a stilting cursive. Then just her name. Then the latest ones with Dad signing her name.

There is history in the things I am saving, and I save them because they carry that history. Some day when I am gone, if these things survive floods and fires (which many things did not for Steve’s folks in the Nashville flood a couple years ago), my children will go through these boxes. I have no doubt I will make Steve lug them to wherever we land next, although they are at least organized. My children will go through them and they will see the notes and the love and the stories that are held by fragile pieces of paper.

Pieces of paper that tell a story beyond just the words written on the paper. And I am thankful I didn’t throw them away and they are safely tucked away now.

Fourth: I realized that life has a way of getting in your attention in peculiar ways. Cleaning out a closet. Yes, the cards make me think of my mom and her progression in her dementia. They also make me laugh and bring back great memories of the boys and of this amazing life I’ve experienced. I did not expect the clothes to catch me off guard. The yellow sleeveless dress that I have not fit into in I don’t know how long, and the red suede jacket. They have hung faithfully in the corner, mostly ignored. Tonight, though, they stood as another reminder….that I’ll never go clothes shopping with mom again. I won’t have the opportunity for her to tell me what she thinks looks good, or for her to send an outfit or some makeup off to me, just because.
And that is painful.

We humans adapt to things in amazing ways. I’m reading a book about women in France who were in the Resistance against Hitler. The things they adapted to are astounding.

We all do it all the time, though. We adapt to pain when our bodies begin to fail. We adapt to pain when relationships begin to change. We adapt to life as a family instead of an individual when we marry. We adapt to new places to live, new jobs, new relationships. We adapt. And in the adapting, I think sometimes, we grow a bit numb to the reality. We grow numb to the pain, because if we focus continually on our sadness or pain we become unable to move forward.

Sometimes, just like pricking our finger on something we didn’t see, something peculiar will get our attention and God will remind us that there are greater realities we need to pay attention to.

So, the closet is clean (well, almost…but so very nearly done I thought I could go ahead and write about it). Trash is discarded. Things not needed are ready for someone who might need them.

And memories have been sparked. In the midst of cleaning out clutter God has spoken.

“Pay attention.”

“Don’t be lazy…be consistent and follow through to the end. Persevere.”

“Mourn.”

“Laugh.”

This life He has given is amazing. It is filled with color, with sounds, with joys and sorrows…and sometimes those enormous realities are carried in the frailties of paper and fabric. He uses these little things to remind us who we are and what is important.

Yes, I know it is Friday.

I also am aware that I began homeschooling three boys, three weeks ago.

I wanted to write that first Monday…to speak of the joy we had as we started. Real excitement of this new adventure. That was a busy week, though, and there was little time in front of the computer.

The second week, well, we realized some of our insufficiencies.

The third week, I yelled a few times. I got frustrated.

But there is still joy.

Messy Monday? Oh Lord, you should have seen the house on Monday.

Now it is Friday and the end of the third week. I think we are just beginning to hit our stride in the homeschool adventure. maybe another week or two and we’ll know better how to approach the day. We have to learn how we all learn, and we have to learn how to learn with a energetic and appealing little girl running to and fro. We have to learn, me and the boys, how to do this to our best ability.

I have to admit I had visions of us all reading together and joy on our faces as we learned new things. It is impossible not to have those expectations, at least in glimpses. One of the aspects of homeschool that was so inviting was this concept of getting the boys excited about learning. We still have to do math and writing and reading. We still have to work. We still have to read things that might not seem that interesting at the moment.

Learning is a discipline as well as a joy, and, as is often the case, the discipline comes before the joy.

We’re getting there, though, and the boys are hanging in there with me. We had our first day at the tutorial this week and it added such a great element to the mix. The boys were all chattering and excited about the classes and the people. I had not seen that level of excitement about the subjects they are learning in a very long time. It’s wonderful.

I have an awareness growing within me about what this is all about, for me. It is about providing them a great education that is tailored to them, and it is about spending time with them and being with them in a different way than I have to this point. It is about wanting something deep and rich for their childhood, but it is also something different. It is about discovering who they are and allowing them to see who they can be. It is about hearing them differently and exposing them to things that awaken in them not only the desire to learn more, but the desire to be more. It is about reading together while sprawled out on the couch, writing at the table…and on the floor…and in the ‘school room’; it is about sumo wrestling at snack time and giggling and engaging as siblings. It is about being frustrated and learning how to work through that, about having to do what we might not want to do at the moment…but doing it anyway. It’s about life.

I’m very thankful for the educators I have been exposed to, and for the educators the boys have had to this point. We’ve learned something from each of them. There is simply something different about educating a child who is yours, and that is what I am learning. It is not that homeschool is the perfect way, and I am not trying to make it out as the perfect situation….however, when teaching the boys i am teaching them with an eye to their character and their personhood that an educator in a school does not have. I am teaching them with prayer that is different than the educators they have met so far…and the boys teachers have held them in prayer, and I am so thankful for that.

I, however, am entrusted along with Steve in creating a place where these four children discover not only the world, but the God we claim to follow. We are entrusted with laying a foundation that gives strength to who they will become, and having them home for their education is providing such a great avenue for this endeavor.

I know that I will be frustrated and they will be frustrated and the house will be dirtier probably more days than I’d like. I know that there are things that happen in the school environment that they will miss, and yet I think there are such great possibilities for what can happen in the homeschool environment that I am not worried about what they will miss.

I am also aware that I need to read more, to enliven my mind more and to be excited about learning as I have been in the past. I need to write more, and to be more faithful to the discipline of learning so that they see the joy of learning in me as I seek to find it in them.

I’m excited. The adventure is under way and I’m excited. I’m grateful to be able to do this. I’m eager to see how it plays out and who these young boys become as men. And a little princess who is watching it all…what she will become!

Messy Monday on Friday. Maybe I’ll have TGIF on Monday!

I have hesitated to write about Chic-Fil-A, mostly because it has all already been said on so many blogs and tv shows and FaceBook pages…on both sides and all the spectators.

It is rather amazing how we get stirred up.

I went to Chic-Fil-A on the “Appreciation Day.” I did not decide immediately to go, but ultimately I went because I appreciate the fact that we have the ability to speak out in this country and to take a stand.

Here’s the thing, though…and more what is on my heart than another blog post about just Chic-Fil-A…I went with a heavy heart.

I read through a fair bit of discussion surrounding the whole situation, and I was taken back by the dialog.

I was taken back by the hate. I mean, real hate…the words slung at one another and the language used was filled with hate. From both sides. Dialogs and comments that I could never let my kids read because of the vulgarity of the language.

Then I looked the other day at a video my brother posted of his dogs. He was joking a bit and titled it “Pit Bulls Fighting”…but in actuality they are just messing with each other. Still, the comment thread is filled with vulgarity and hate. Astounding.

Then I looked around at other issues on politics and a variety of topics people are talking about…and again, we speak with such hatred.

We have the right to speak out in this country and we use it to sling crass, vulgar or petty comments at one another. We speak and grab at our right to speak, and yet we say very little of value. We speak at one another and do not dialog. We show our ignorance when our comments devolve into jabs about people’s appearance and sexuality rather than working to think through our politics or theology or perspective on life.

The days surrounding the Chic-Fil-A situation left me feeling frustrated. Honestly, I believe that some of it is just the out-spurting of emotions from people who are living with stress in a season in this country that is not easy. Sometimes we need to vent, but unfortunately we tend to vent at the expense of those around us.

The other thing it left me with was the deep awareness that we are in need of something outside of ourselves for help. I was left constantly with the prayer, “Lord, have mercy”. Have mercy on us, as we hate each other….rescue us from ourselves.

Lord, have mercy.

Then, today I came across something that lifted me. I wish that things like this took off on the internet and in our discussions, but I think we like to be angry more than we would admit. Still…I’ll leave off with this, and tomorrow I’m going to spend some time with my kids showing them this video and letting them see what an amazing impact one person can have. Out of great pain, acting in love…

Rachel Beckwith’s Mom Visits Ethiopia. from charity: water on Vimeo.

I am very humbly grateful that I live where I live and I have the right to take a stand on what I believe. I am very frustrated that sometimes the taking of that stand is seen as hate. I am saddened by how angry so many of us are.

I am lifted and encouraged and humbled by the actions of the quieter among us who do truly great things.

When we are left to ourselves we show often how arrogant and selfish we are. I do it all the time. When we step outside of that and are unselfish, God can transform our actions and do some rather amazing things.