Five Keys to Homeschooling

With most children homebound for a couple of weeks—some even more—many parents are having to do something they thought they’d never do: school their children at home. We’ve homeschooled the last ten years and I still remember those early days when we first started. Those first weeks we experienced a mixture of high expectations, excitement about doing something new, and a bit of confusion as we all wondered if we were doing it “right.” For the kids, there was some awkwardness as they had to navigate having a mom who was both parent and teacher. To be honest, there have been many times over the years I have either quit or fired myself (as both teacher and administrator I can do both!).

Just like parenting, homeschooling can be both joy-filled and frustrating at the same time. There are ups and downs, good days and bad days. Think of it as an adventure. Whether your current school situation lasts a few weeks or longer, I wanted to share some of the homeschooling keys that have shaped our homeschooling over the years.

1. Have a Routine: Having a routine and structure is essential to homeschooling. Children always do better when they know what to expect. From the beginning, we started our school day at 9am—after getting ready for the day, eating breakfast, and completing morning chores. When the children were younger, we would tackle the subjects which required more focus and concentration first, such as math and language arts. Subjects such as literature and history we put to the end of the school day because those involved more of me reading aloud. Since many parents are now juggling both homeschooling and working from home, you may need to find a different schedule. Perhaps homeschool takes place in the afternoons so you can be on conference calls in the morning. The beauty of homeschooling is that it doesn’t have to take place at the same time as traditional school. Ultimately, whatever routine your family uses, it needs to be consistent.

2. Take breaks: Breaks are important for all of us, and more so for children. It’s hard to sit still and focus on one thing for too long. Even with my teens, we’ve set timers to work on one thing for a set time, followed by a break. I also encourage my children to set aside work that is particularly difficult or challenging and switch to something else for a time, and then return back to the challenging problem. Otherwise, they get increasingly frustrated. We often take a long lunch break and work later into the afternoon. Younger children might need more frequent breaks.

3. Learning is more than doing worksheets: Our family has never been big fans of doing worksheets over and over. There are many ways to learn a concept that doesn’t include filling out a worksheet. Practice spelling words using Scrabble tiles. Use Legos to practice math. Bake bread to learn about chemistry. Read a fictional story that takes place during a specific time in history. Create your own board game. Do a scavenger hunt. The opportunities are endless.

4. Get outside: Homeschool doesn’t mean you have to remain within the four walls of your home. Take your school work outside. Sit on a blanket in the yard and complete assignments. Have the kids collect things from the yard to study and learn about. Take a nature walk and count how many different creatures you find. Have them draw pictures of what they see.

5. Encourage curiosity: Learning is a life habit that ought to take place everywhere, not just in a school. Encourage your children to ask questions about things and help them research the answers. One time, my son was curious about how cars worked. We got him a science kit which taught him how to build a model engine. My other son loves sports so I found books on sports facts and statistics which he then memorized. When one child showed an interest in reading science fiction stories, I encouraged him to write one of his own. When another was interested in drawing dragons, I found a book on how to draw fantastical creatures.

   We are also big fans of unit studies. Unit Studies are a great way to dive into a topic of particular interest your child might have. We once spent a month studying the state of Alaska because we were going there on vacation. Unit studies incorporate all the subjects into one topic. In studying Alaska, we read The Call of the Wild and other stories that took place in Alaska (Literature). We studied the unique topography, climate, animal life, and eco-system (science). We learned how it became a state, its Gold Rush, and the big earthquake (history). We studied maps of the state and learned about its major towns and cities (geography). And the kids wrote essays on what they learned (grammar).

Learning at home has created many wonderful memories for our family. It takes some intentional effort, but once you develop a routine and find ways to make learning fun and engaging, you may find you even enjoy it. Be patient with yourself and your children. And if you have any friends who homeschool, reach out for advice. They’ll be happy to help.

A Prayer in Fearful and Uncertain Times

One of my greatest fears is for the health of my children. Perhaps because from infancy they’ve battled asthma and chronic illness. More likely, it’s because I fear what I can’t control. I also don’t like feeling helpless. I don’t like not knowing what to do in a situation. While they are much healthier than they were as young children, it doesn’t take much for that fear to resurface.

A couple of weeks ago, our state had its first case of the Coronavirus. And it didn’t take place in some big city location. It wasn’t in a town or place I’d never been. It didn’t happen to a person I could feel passing sympathy for and then move on—as I might when hearing about a tragedy on the evening news. It happened in the suburbs, in our little homeschool program one of my kids attends. A fellow student was tested positive. The school was closed until the fourteen day window passed and those who were in contact with the student were quarantined.

My son did not have contact with the student so I did not anticipate him getting sick, but we stayed home anyway, mostly out of care for others. There was so much fear and unknown about the virus that I knew once people heard about it, they would not want my son to be around them. While we were homebound, my son came down with flu-like symptoms and I felt that momma-fear kick in. Could it be the virus or perhaps the flu? What if his asthma flares up as a result? The last time he had the flu, we ended up in the ER. I felt anxiety grow as I tried to figure out what to do. Because of our association with the school, we had difficulty finding a place to have him tested, but the pediatrician managed to find a hospital which had all the necessary gear and equipment to do so. It was a memorable experience and I am grateful for the care and precaution provided by the doctors and nurses. Within a few hours we learned he had the flu and the next day, we learned he did not have the Corona Virus.

A lot has happened in the past two weeks. Since then, most things have been cancelled, including speaking engagements I scheduled many months ago. All the schools around us are closed. Churches are closed. There’s a lot of uncertainty for all of us. Should we go here or there? Should we cancel this or that? What does it mean for work? What will happen to the economy?

What if? What then?

As I wrote in my post last week, I always turn to the Psalms when my emotions overwhelm me. When I fear the unknown, I can’t help but think of David, hiding for fear of his life in the caves of En Ghedi. I had the opportunity to visit En Ghedi during our trip to Israel a couple of years ago. It was a surreal and emotional experience, seeing the place I had imagined in my mind while I studied and wrote A Heart Set Free. While on the run from King Saul, David hid there and wrote Psalm 57.

“Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by. I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.” (vv.1-2)

This psalm is a helpful reminder for all of us as we find ourselves homebound, stuck in our own caves, anxious and wondering about the future. Our refuge is is found in God. Let us cry out to him.

I wrote this prayer a few years ago and updated it to reflect our current circumstances:

A Prayer in Fearful and Uncertain Times

Father in Heaven,

I come before you with a distracted heart and mind. I turn on the news and feel anxious. Each channel is the same. I scroll through social media and I see uncertainty in every post. I am grieved for the losses across the world. I am frightened for those who are susceptible to this virus. I am filled with uncertainty and worry about what the future holds. What about those who can’t afford to take off from work? What about those who are weak and vulnerable? Will this be a short term hurdle or a bigger problem than we imagine? 

My mind starts spinning and swirling and I get caught up in all the what if’s of life. So I come before you as the psalmist did, with raw honesty. I come before you with all these thoughts and emotions and lay them before you. I come before you because you are King and you rule all things. I come before you because you are my Father, my Abba. You adopted me as your child and have given me every privilege that comes with being a part of your family. I come before you because you are my merciful Savior. You alone can rescue me from fear, sin, temptation, and all the unknowns. I come before you because you are my Provider, Jehovah Jireh. You created all things and own all things. All I have comes from your generous hands. I come before you because you are my Redeemer. You alone can redeem and restore all that is broken in my life and in the world around me.

Forgive me for turning my gaze from you and looking at the worrisome things happening around me. Forgive me for forgetting that you are with me. Forgive me for not trusting. Forgive me for not crying out to you sooner but trying to conquer my fears in my own strength. Forgive me for not living in complete dependence upon you.

I pray for the vulnerable. I pray you would protect them. I pray you would provide for those in need. I pray you would raise up the church and help us to be the hands and feet of Jesus, meeting the needs in our communities. I pray we would be happy to be uncomfortable for the sake of others. I pray you would stop this virus in its tracks.

In my own life and heart, give me a peace that passes all understanding. Though I don't know what will happen in the future, help me to trust you. Help me to remember that you are not surprised by all the chaos and uncertainty. Help me to remember that nothing will happen today that takes you off guard. You are not asleep or too busy but are actively involved in every detail. Help me to wait and watch for your glory. Help me to obey and do the right thing in the moment, knowing you are there in all the moments to come. 

Help me to see you as greater than all my fears.

Most of all, help me to remember Jesus, the One who cried out in the garden on the night he was betrayed, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 13:46). I thank you that "for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2). Even now, he intercedes for me—what a marvelous truth!

Be my refuge “until the storms of destruction pass by.” You are my true place of safety.

I pray all this in the name of Jesus, amen.

Hope for the Weary {and a giveaway}

People often ask me which of my books is my favorite. In many ways, my books are like my children—birthed through tears and pain. Yet, I do have a favorite and it’s A Heart Set Free, one I wrote about the Psalms of Lament. The process of writing the book gave me an even greater love and appreciation for the Psalms than I had before. I continue to read and study and learn from its prose.

The Psalms have always met me right where I am. They often hold up a mirror to show me what’s going on in my heart. Whether it was in the grief and depression of adolescence, the postpartum days of early motherhood, or just in the struggles that come with living in a fallen world, the Psalms have been and continue to be a balm to my weary soul.

Lately, I’ve struggled with a deep weariness. Such weariness is likely a combination of health issues, the stage of life I’m in, and the challenge of juggling too many plates. I’m weary of dealing with the thorns and thistles of life. I’m worn from ripping out weeds and pulling out the briars— only to find them reappear soon after. Life too often feels like a Monday, set on repeat.

And so I go to where I know I’ll find hope: the Psalms.

Psalm 71

I recently read Psalm 71. In one of my Bibles, the heading reads “Forsake me not when my strength is spent.” Yes! That’s a good description of where I’m at: spent strength. In another study Bible, the heading reads “God’s help in old age.” (I smiled when I read that title.)

The psalmist was likely advanced in years when he penned the psalm, for he wrote, “Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent” (v.9) and “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come but whether one is old or young, it points to our hope” (v.18). Whether we are young or old, or somewhere in between, Psalm 71 points us to our great hope in God.

As I read this psalm, it was like learning from a mentor who has walked with the Lord for many years. He models what it looks like to lament with hope. It is both a psalm of lament, where the psalmist cries out to God for help and rescue, but it is also a testimony of God’s faithfulness. “Upon you I have leaned from before my birth; you are he who took me from my mother’s womb” (v.6). The psalmist’s knowledge of God isn’t merely theological, it’s also experiential. He knows from past experience of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. He’s seen God move in his life and rescue him time and time again. He’s learned where to turn when life is hard, when evil pushes in from every side, when he feels weak and unable to stand. “O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds” (v.17).

In this psalm, the writer faces enemies who plot against him. He asks the Lord to rescue him: “In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me, and save me! Be to me a rock of refuge, to which I may continually come; you have given the command to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress” (vv.2-3). Like a wise mentor, the psalmist points the reader to who God is throughout the psalm. He describes God as a rock, refuge, fortress, hope, righteousness, salvation, strength, and faithful. He talks about God’s works and acts of righteousness. He looks to God as his salvation and hope in the midst of his fears. “Your righteousness, O God, reaches the high heavens. You who have done great things, O God, who is like you?” (v.19).

Though this psalm is a lament, though the psalmist is fearful of those who are against him and cries out to God for his help and deliverance, there is also praise and worship woven throughout. The psalmist interrupts his complaints to praise God for who he is “My mouth is filled with your praise, and with your glory all the day” (v.8) and “But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more” (v.14).

A Testimony for the Weak and Weary

I recently talked with a mentor/friend who lost a loved one. She testified to me of God’s great love for her during a hard and painful time. She spoke of God’s grace and faithfulness toward her in her grief. She did as the psalmist did in verse 18: “I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.” My friend, like the psalmist, has known God’s love and faithfulness throughout her life. She knows that while sorrows and storms will roll over her, God is her refuge. She knows, like the the psalmist, that God is her comfort. “You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again. You will increase my greatness and comfort me again” (vv. 20-21).

What a testimony for the weak and weary! These truths are what my heart needs most as I face my own weariness. God is my refuge and strength. He will sustain me and carry me. He is my salvation. I want my own heart to respond as the psalmist in Psalm 71. I want to cry out to God for help in the face of life’s circumstances. I want to remember all he’s done for me in the past. I want to trust him to carry me in my weakness. And I want a heart that bursts out into praise and worship, even in the midst of fear, sorrow, and weariness, so that others might also know that God alone is the source of hope and help.

I’d love to share with you the joy of reading and studying the Psalms—of learning how to model your own prayers and heart cries after the Psalms of Lament. To that end, I am running a giveaway of A Heart Set Free. Enter below in the giveaway box, US residents only. Giveaway ends on March 15 at 12am EST. Update: this giveaway has ended and the winners have been contacted. Thank you for entering!

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Searching for a Forever Home

I’ve long enjoyed watching those shows where a realtor helps people search for a new house. They usually tour several homes and at the end of the show, they pick their favorite. I like seeing the inside of different homes, the diversity in architecture, and what homes are like in different corners of the country. I often find myself disagreeing with the homeowner’s final choice.

At the start of these shows, the home hunters describe the size and location of the house they desire, often ending with something like this: “We are looking for our forever home.” Forever home. So much is wrapped up in those two words. It’s a sentimental statement for sure, filled with memories, traditions, and family. It evokes feelings of contentment, peace, and satisfaction. There’s a finality to it. A dream come true.

I appreciate the sentiment. I love all things family and tradition. There’s something special about having the perfect picture window to place the Christmas tree in front of each year. Establishing a homestead to raise a generation and have them return each year with their own children is a worthy goal. I can relate to desire to create memories with loved ones gathered around the kitchen counter or dining table. And to etch a child’s height on the doorway molding throughout the years. To have a mantle to hang stockings on each year. To have that big wall in the family room on which to hang pictures of the kids as they grow throughout the years.

But as a believer, whenever I hear the phrase “forever home” I pause, because there’s something lacking in the sentiment. Actually, a few somethings. First, it assumes we know the future. We all want a semblance of control in our lives. Who wouldn’t want to know that you’ll live in the same house, in the same town for the rest of your life? By declaring something as “forever” we attempt to take that control, to steer our life where we want it to go. Yet to declare that where one lives as a “forever home” assumes that we know God’s plan for our lives. But as Proverbs reminds us “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps” (16:9). It may be that we live in one place for five years and then God calls us to relocate elsewhere. Like all our goals and plans in life, the very place we live ought to be held loosely, yielding to God’s sovereign will and plan. As James exhorts, “you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (4:15).

Sometimes, the idea of a “forever home” can become an idol we worship. It can be held up as the epitome of success and achievement in life. It can be one of those things we strive for, so much so, we aren’t satisfied or content until we have it. A house becomes that one thing we think will make us feel content and at peace. I know my own heart has whispered “If only I had__________” (a bigger house, a house with a yard, a house with a playroom, a house with an open concept to hosts friends, a house closer to friends, etc). We look to the perfect home to give our lives meaning and purpose and identity, rather than the One who made us.

The idea of a “forever home” also presupposes that God wants us to park ourselves in one spot and plant roots in the soil of this world. Many in our culture view this world as all there is. They don’t believe in life after death; therefore, they have to live their “best life now.” They have to meet all their goals, achieve all their dreams, and acquire all they can in the here and now. For some, that includes a “forever home.” If life ends at death, it makes sense that one would want a beautiful home to live in “forever.” But for those who are in Christ, we know that this world is not all there is. We are pilgrims— nomads on a journey in this world. This is not our home. Like Abraham, whom God called to himself and set him on a journey to the land of Canaan, we are on a journey to a place God has promised for us. And like Abraham, we won’t settle in that place in this life—he didn’t own but a burial plot when he died.

Our own Savior didn’t have a home of his own (Matt. 8:20). When Jesus ascended into heaven, he said he was going to prepare a forever place for us. One day he will return to judge the earth and make all things new. On that day, we will receive our “forever home.” We will live on the new earth for all eternity, worshiping and praising the One whom is our home and dwelling place. “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev. 21:3).

There’s nothing wrong with settling into a home and raising a family there. It’s a blessing not everyone gets to experience, but it is one to be appreciated. We just have to remember that it’s not our ultimate joy. The perfect home will not make us feel complete and whole. It’s a temporary dwelling, a safe and dry place to lay our heads and eat meals with the ones we love. Like any good gift from God, our homes ought to point us to him. Because our real home—our forever home—is found in the presence of God himself.

My Awkward Dance with Time

Time and I have always performed a kind of awkward dance together.

Too often, I try to lead. I try to push time forward—some call it future-tripping. When I was a teen, I couldn’t wait to leave home and attend college. When I was in college, I looked forward to getting married. When my kids were little, I thought “I can’t wait until he can sleep through the night…stop needing diapers…clean up after himself…”

Since I hit forty a few years ago—okay, five years ago—I’ve wanted time to slow down. Pause. Stop altogether. But instead, it seems to be on a downhill slide. Everything they say that happens to your body after you turn forty is true. My skin has turned treasonous. I pull muscles for no apparent reason. I have both a space heater and an additional air conditioner next to my side of the bed. Sometimes I use them both at the same time. You can laugh; my doctor did.

And I keep hearing that old Steve Miller Band song, “Time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’ into the future...”

When my kids were young, older women would tell me to treasure that time with them, because before I knew it, they would be grown. Even now, as I grumble about my life as a chauffeur and look forward to my oldest getting his license, older moms tell me how they long to return to the days of driving their children from place to place. The saying is true, “the days are long, the years short.”

Midlife is a strange season and one I find difficult to adjust to. I’m smack dab in the middle of life. It’s as though I stand on a timeline, where all the years to one side of me are that of my youth and everything ahead of me is that of aging. All the decades leading up to where I now stand were focused on achieving and gaining. Acquiring. Adding. When I look forward, life seems more about losing. Children take flight. Houses get smaller. Work becomes less, health elusive.

But at the same time, I feel more comfortable with who I am than I ever did in my youth. I have a sweet and tender relationship with the Lord that developed through time and experience. While in my younger days, I had a head knowledge of God’s love and faithfulness, I’ve since seen him work in countless ways and now know with certainty it is true. The prayer life I now have, I wouldn’t trade it for the one I had in my 20’s. The trust and dependency I’ve learned through trial and hardship is one I wish my younger self knew—rather than trusting in myself, plans, and systems to make life work.

Moses also knew how fast time flies, how our life is but a breath. He wrote in Psalm 90: “For all our days pass away under your wrath; we bring our years to an end like a sigh. The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away” (vv. 9-10). John Calvin commented: “men foolishly glory in their excellence, since, whether they will or no, they are constrained to look to the time to come. And as soon as they open their eyes, they see that they are dragged and carried forward to death with rapid haste, and that their excellence is every moment vanishing away.” I can relate to that “rapid haste” Calvin refers to. Though I know time moves forward in the exact same rate, moment after moment, day after day, it somehow feels faster these days. My kids seem to grow an inch a week. More and more they stretch their wings. They now find themselves where I once was: looking forward to greater freedom and life on their own.

Moses then prayed, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (v.12). It is wisdom to consider the brevity of life. It is wisdom to pause and look backward to realize all you have learned and then forward to see the finish line closer than it was before. But in so doing, not to panic and fear the death that is to come; rather, to focus the days we have left on living for God’s glory. For those who are in Christ know there is more to come in eternity where time will no longer be of consequence.

In my dance with time, I’ve learned that I can’t lead; it’s not my place to do so. Rather, I must follow the steps marked out for me. I must move forward, keeping along with time’s set rhythm. If I pay attention to his steps, I see he’s really not going any faster than before. And if I cast aside the distractions that cause me to stumble and focus instead on my call to live for God’s glory, I realize: I’ve got all the time I need.

Communicating with Your Teen

Do you remember those first early weeks with your newborn—when you were trying to understand what each and every cry meant? Does she need a diaper change? Is he too hot? Bored? Tired? Sick?

Eventually you got it down and figured out more than just what your baby’s cries meant. You also knew that when she rubbed at her face a certain way it was time for a nap or that when he needed a fresh diaper his faced turned a strange shade of red as he cried out. You got to the point where you knew the difference between boredom and irritation, hunger and tiredness.

Then came the two’s and three’s when your child could speak in words but still couldn’t express themselves. Instead of verbalizing to you that she was feeling disappointed or frustrated or over-tired, she threw herself on the floor in the middle of the grocery store.

Or maybe that was just my children…

Fast forward a few years and it seems like you are back to square one. Your child is taller and has more life experience under his belt. His voice isn’t the high-pitched scream of an angry two-year-old, but the deep voice of a soon-to-be man. Your daughter talks and communicates all the time now—just not with you.

You’ve hit the teen years and it’s like you have a different person living under your roof. Someone so new, it’s like you need to learn all over again how to communicate. Just what do those eye rolls mean? Why does he always mutter, “Boomer” under his breath? How can you get your teen to respond to you with more than just “Good” or “Okay” when you ask about his day?

To read the rest of this post, visit Rooted Ministry.