I have written multiple times here about paying attention.  I probably have written so many times about the topic because I need the reminder.

I need to tell myself to pay attention.

When we decided to begin teaching the boys at home last year, I knew I needed to pay attention. See, I am not disciplined. I am easily distracted.

FaceBook is mental candy for me. Games. Short updates on multiple friends. Pictures and links to interesting articles. And then of course Pinterest.  I love FaceBook. I love the connection to such a diverse grouping of my friends. I love seeing the pictures of their families growing through the years, seeing marriages and births. Mourning through deaths. Rejoicing through victories. It really is a rather remarkable social connection.

Especially to a stay-at-home mom who has limited interaction with adults and friends.

And yet…

I find myself distracted and I find myself wanting to check in on what is happening with friends, wanting to play the games and wanting to post something interesting.

I find that I check in on the computer in between talking to the kids about history or Bible. I’ll take a few minutes to check something, and I’ll look and find that a few minutes has become fifteen, has become thirty.

Did I mention I am not the most disciplined person?

I find myself not paying attention where I need to pay attention. I need to look at the little ones who are looking to see if I am “liking” the tower they just built out of blocks, the amazing mess they just made with baking soda. Have I commented on their latest story?  See where I’m going?

There is more though.  This year I have begun developing some of my own curriculum. Specifically Bible. I am enjoying the process, and also realizing how much time I need to devote to the project. Quite a lot, it turns out.

More than that, though.

We can’t grow on candy.  I love mental candy. I love playing games like Candy Crush and Tetris. I love watching my favorite shows. I love catching up on life in snippets. I don’t grow on these things, though.

I grow on being stretched and challenged and reading deeply. That simply cannot be rushed. That requires paying attention. But, oh my does that feed the soul. And the mind. That makes me feel alive, makes me think more deeply and quickly…that gives me something to give to the kids in teaching them.

That makes me more present. That makes me pay attention.

So. I turned off FaceBook. Took the apps off my phone and iPad. Logged off on the computer. Turned off the distraction. I have not shut off my account, but I have minimized the distraction. Sometimes it is allowable to have a little candy. Even a little Candy Crush.  Plus, When I post articles here on the blog they post on my FaceBook page, so I’ll be somewhat present that way.

This school year, however, I want to be present to the kids. I want to pay attention to them. I want them to know they have my focus.

Part of that is feeding my soul and my mind so I have something to give them each day. Part of that is turning off the distractions so I am not looking away when they are looking to see if I am watching them.

Part of that is simply being more disciplined.  It is no great revelation, no amazing fact. I am not saying anything staggering. I’m actually just saying I need to grow up a little, it really is as simple as that. Growing up a little, paying attention, being intentional and turning off the distractions. Yep. That’s the vision for this year.

Less candy. More meat and veggies.

“To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.”

Karl Barth

There is brokenness all around us.  We do not have to look for it, it finds us without our seeking it out. We know brokenness as we know ourselves.  We know pain and we know the disorder of the world.

Cancer. Fear. Loss. Pain.

Brokenness.

The unrest in Egypt…that is hard to fathom for those of us who walk into our fellowships with no fear of persecution.  That outward brokenness is an assault to our senses, an assault to our hearts.

We close our hands not distraught, though, we close our hands in hope.

We bow our heads not in fear and not in defeat. We bow our heads in awareness that we do not hold the power to change the situation, yet we know who does.

We bring our needs to each other and ask for prayer because we are journeying together. We clasp hands together and in doing so we join in the uprising against the disorder of the world. We place ourselves, together, in the care of the Creator. We place ourselves in the care of the One who can change the situation, the One who can speak hope to those who are hopeless.

So….speak your need.

Pray for others in need.

Clasp your hands in prayer and be aware that in doing so we are not vainly throwing our words about; we are acknowledging that we are are His and we cast our cares upon Him, for He cares for us.

We are three full days into the school year of 2013-2014. So far, things are going quite well, thank you for asking.

Really. We’ve been up on time, including myself. That in itself is an achievement. I am not a morning person. I’ve been up, been able to have some reading time and coffee before everyone else is up.

I’m prepared for the most part.

I have been able to flesh out the ideas I had for a Bible curriculum and I am seeing my kids understand things already in these first three days which they had never thought of before. That excites me.

One thing has already happened a few times, and it has frustrated me greatly. It has happened with all three children.

“I can’t do this!”

“Yes. You can.”

“No!”  This is usually followed by varying degrees of hanging one’s head, sighing, shrugging of shoulders.  “I just can’t!”

Three days in to the school year. We have already faced overwhelming material in Math and English which has forced us to rest our head upon the table in despair. We have even had a couple tears already.

This is so high on the list of things I would like to avoid in homeschool, and yet it seems to be so completely unavoidable. I will say I react better than before and we move beyond the moment more quickly. Still, I want my kids to think of themselves in terms of being able to achieve rather than being defeated before they even begin.

Not very long ago, maybe it has been three years…maybe four…Sammy used to come in from being outside with his face all sweaty and red and his hair flying around. His eyes would be wide with wonder and he would say:

“I wish I could go to the store and buy some wings. I would strap them to my back and I would run out in the street and I would fly just like the birds.”

I could believe that he would be able to fly if I could just get him those wings….the wonder and the enthusiasm was so right-there. He knew he could do it.

Now a math problem leaves him in a puddle. Usually because he saw an older sibling in a puddle a little earlier.

So. I want to establish the rule of not being able to say “I can’t.”  I wonder if I’ll sound legalistic and boring to the kids, and yet I wonder if they’ll get a little of the concept…they can do so many remarkable things. No, they cannot do anything they want to. There are limitations, but they can do remarkable things.

They can figure out the math problem. They can figure out their homework. They can do so much more.

I want them back to running in with sweaty faces and eyes wide with wonder imagining what they could do if just given the opportunity…rather than thinking they just can’t. That is one of my goals and one for this school year.

I just…….can.