Our homeschool journey continued (Conquering the fear)

(Part 2)

"There is no fear in love; perfect love drives out all fear." (1 John 4:18)

Those words have come back to me again and again during this year's journey to homeschooling.  I am so flooded with emotion.  The loss of our baby in January has somehow seemed magnified by leaving the school community we have grown to love, which is also a form of loss.

But yet ...  Homeschooling has weighed heavily on my heart for so many years.  Is that just me wanting that?  Or is it God?  And if it's God, I want to listen.

This year, my husband agrees this is the right choice for our family.  Various things have fallen into place -- like being accepted to the homeschool enrichment program (HEP), which very nearly didn't happen due to high enrollment -- that have put his heart at peace, finally, about giving homeschooling a chance.

This year, my daughter couldn't stop talking about homeschooling after we visited the HEP she will attend.  Even at age 10, she seemed to see what I did -- what a good fit this program would be with her personal strengths and interests.  My other children also are excited.  That's not necessary; but it sure helps!

And this year, every time I seem to turn to my Bible (or my Magnificat) with homeschool weighing heavily on my heart (Is this the right decision? Can we actually do this?) I find verses like these:

"Be strong, be courageous, all you that hope in the Lord." (Ps 31:24

"I look to the Lord for help at all times, and He rescues me from danger.  Turn to me, Lord, and be merciful to me, because I am lonely and weak.  Relieve me of my worries and save me from all my troubles.  Consider my distress and suffering and forgive all my sins." (Ps 25: 15-18)

I read Servant of God's Catherine Doherty's letters to her apostolate, and she speaks about how recreation should be done together, to create a spirit of family and community.  Then, in her book "Dear Parents" she writes,

"I simply beg you to pay more attention to your children, to pray for them, to bring them that glass of water.  'Mommy, can I have a glass of water?' That's where to start.  Pay attention to them.
...Watch over your children.  Watch them.  Hold them tight.  Never mind about getting lots of money.  Get a smaller house.  This has nothing to do with women's lib; this is for the salvation of the family."

None of this is to say Doherty's suggestions can't be achieved without homeschooling; it's just that, considering the prayers on my heart at the time I read her words, they did serve as a form of verification that perhaps the Lord was, in fact, leading us toward homeschooling.

Nevertheless, I don't know for sure.  My biggest fear is me.  Can I be calm and gentle with them while carrying the weight of their educational needs on top of my other parenting requirements?  Can I be who God wants me to be for them?

Even as I write this, a little voice in my head is saying, "Of course not, silly!  Not without God's grace.  But with His grace, yes."

My spiritual director has said a couple things through this discernment process that have really struck me.  His first was something to the effect of, "Well, if you've been thinking about it for that long, just go for it!  It's just a year!"

What? It can be that simple?!  And when I added my concern about whether or not I could handle being pregnant and homeschooling everyone (just in case I would be blessed with another pregnancy), he just lightheartedly said, "Oh, you could do it!"

His lightheartedness was such a gift to me, and it's one I need to remember to bring to this year.  His confidence in me, too. It's only one year.  These are my own children, the ones I always long to spend more time with, and with God's grace we can do it!  It may not look like I have it planned out now; I know we will need to change things as we go along; but yes, it can be done.  (As I said to my husband after attending my first homeschool conference this June -- "None of those women were wearing capes!  None of them are Superwomen!"  Although upon reflection, some of them probably had rosary beads or scapulars hidden away!)

When I expressed my fear to my spiritual director, about me not being able to be gentle, kind, and loving as I would desire to be for my children, he agreed that I would fall sometimes.  "But," he added, "you'd be falling while trying to do God's will -- and that makes all the difference."

So I really don't need to be afraid.  My husband and I are trying to do God's will as best as we've been able to discern it.  If we continue to humbly seek Him, we should have confidence that He will walk with us, and bless these efforts.

I think the perfect closing to this is a prayer from Thomas Merton. 

"My Lord God, 

I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. 

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

 But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.

 And I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

 And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

 Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

Our homeschool journey

In less than a month, I will begin homeschooling my children for the first time.

And I am scared.

This is not the emotion I expected to feel when my homeschooling wish finally came true.  I have thought about homeschooling ever since I was introduced to it through two college house-mates who had been homeschooled.  They were so smart, so personable, so warm.  Their families were so close.  They talked about mothers who had refused to give into the idea that the teenage years had to be so agonizingly awful for the parent/child relationship.

I was hooked.

I spoke to my husband about my interest in homeschooling before we were even engaged.

And then we got married.  And our children came along.  And I made friends with our NFP-teacher who (guess what?!) homeschooled her children.  And I took my toddlers to homeschool groups.  And I started learning about curriculums, and I even started purchasing the first of many homeschool-inspired expenses over the years.

But when it came down to it, we decided not to homeschool.  We sent our daughter to our local Catholic school, and year after year after year we agonized over what the right decision was for our family -- What did God want?  What could we handle? -- and year after year after year that answer was the same: Send them to St. Mary's.

Most of this decision came from my husband's lead.  But you know what?  Those were some very good years.  We met beautiful families, and our children had great, committed teachers.  There definitely was grace in working with my husband, versus digging in my heels until we could do things MY way.  I shed tears and carried an anguished heart for a period of time every May and September (when we made the decision and when they actually headed back to school), but unity triumphed over discord.  I can see how God did indeed lead us through my husband, and I am thankful.

So thankful, in fact, that now that we have reached a mutual decision to homeschool all four children this year (we did homeschool our kindergartner last year), I cannot believe how sad I am!

Leaving our school family, the place our children have been happy for so long, is downright painful!

I couldn't stop myself from crying at my son's class play on the last day of school.  And I have shed quite a few tears since then, too.

I do have reasons for wanting to homeschool, and they do seem like good ones.  My husband and I even brainstormed a list the other day -- something I could refer to as things get tough in the trenches from time to time this fall: family and sibling unity (or at least, more of it); increased opportunities to share faith, and pray as a family; increased opportunities for our children to learn household skills; more flexibility to do things together as a family; the opportunity to tailor studies to best meet each child's needs; more opportunities to introduce really good, beautiful books; more time to play or to pursue individual interests; more opportunities for us to just have good conversation with them.

Note that in many of the above items, I used the wording "more opportunities."  The opportunities will be there; it will still be up to us to take advantage of them.

All of the lurking I have done around homeschool blogs and all of the brain-picking I have done to homeschooling friends over the years paid off as I spent a good month in between June and July chosing curriculums, and organizing the house, and trying to get a handle about how this is all going to work.  Yes, my two oldest children read well and are accustomed to sitting still and listening for decent lengths of time.  But there also has been no gentle breaking-in period when they were doing kindergarten-level work and the stakes didn't seem so high.

To suddenly be responsible for the work of a high-level fifth grader, while definitely doable, also seems a bit intimidating.

Fortunately, my oldest daughter will be attending a local homeschool enrichment program, one I have heard about from friends for years, and have been eagerly awaiting the day she would be old enough to attend.  Whenever I feel those feelings of fear regarding the year ahead coming over me, all I really have to do is go downstairs and look at her stack of books on the shelf, and I am so excited about sharing those books with her, that many of my fears melt away.

We've done a couple "homeschool" days recently, and while I think it will take a while to figure out how and when everyone gets the time with me they need, there have been moments that just stop my heart -- "This is the reason I wanted to homeschool" moments.

Like soaking beans in water overnight so we could peer inside them the next morning, and having my six- and four-year-olds completely transfixed on everything I was doing.  And sitting down to read Bible stories with those youngest two, and having my eight-year-old climb over the couch to listen, and ask for more when I was done, too.  And discussing the nervous system with my eight-year-old, and listening in wonder as he made some comment about the brain-spinal cord-nerves connection that showed he really was engaged in our discussion.  And helping my 10-year-old to see she doesn't need to fear math, or feel like it's her worst subject.  If she can slow down and be patient with herself, she can do it!

Those moments when they're learning, and engaged, and you're sharing it with them, and it almost seems a bit ... magical.

There also have been those moments in prayer, time and again, when I have felt reassured that this is God's will for our family this year.  Because really, regardless of what I feel like I want, what I really want is to do God's will for our family.

But more on that in the next post!

To be continued...