Racing out the door, he slammed the screen shut. I could hear the pitter patter of his feet as I watched from the front window inside the house. He rounded the corner at break-neck speed and bolted straight for Poor Old White—our trusty ’93 Volkswagon Eurovan. I smiled and gathered up the last of my belongings before heading out the door after him. The first day of school this year, and the first day of school ever for Jonathan.
The kids were already buckled by the time I’d reached the car. Backpacks were strewn on the floor, and the three monkeys were all a chatter about the mysteries that were shortly going to unfold. Who were they going to sit by? What was today’s history sentence? Would they draw with colored pencils or with markers? How long would the science experiment take? Were they going to get to trace the United States in their geography notebooks? When was lunch?
I pulled down the visor and started to put on my makeup while I waited for David to get in the driver’s seat. I tried to answer their questions patiently, but could feel myself getting anxious as their rapid-fire questioning continued. David opened the car door just as I was reaching over to honk the horn. I didn’t want to be late the first day as new director and we were already pushing the reasonable limits of time.
When we got to the church two of the tutors were already there. They were busy setting up their classrooms and preparing for the little ones and their parents. I visited the Woman’s room first. It looked like a color-coded page right out of out of a CC decorating magazine. The trinkets she’d brought—the expanding sponge brain floating in a large mason jar, the miniature lucite skeleton dangling in a glass display case, the skeleton-hand gift bags with the mystery prize inside—plus the smell of steaming coffee cake on the counter, classical music playing in the background and excited multi-aged children milling about made me ever-so-grateful, and humbled, to be homeschooling. Especially with this group of 18 families, 30 kids, 5 tutors, and Classical Conversations.
Why homeschool? Why Classical Conversations? Because, for our family, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Intentional living.
Our kids are our most precious gift. A blessing from God. One we do not want to squander or one that we do not want to leave in the hands of someone that does not know them as well as we do, nor love them as much as we do, nor is as invested in them, their future, and their character as we are. Plus, frankly, our educational goals for our children look different than most other people’s.
We hope, and pray, that after 12+ years of schooling our children will love the Lord God with all their hearts, with all their minds, with all their souls, and that they will love their neighbors as much as they love themselves.
We hope, and pray, that they will come away with an awe and wonder for their Creator. That they will be able to look all around them and see God’s fingerprints in every area and venue of life.
We hope, and pray, that they will be intentional people who think about whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, and whatever is worthy of praise.
We hope, and pray, they will discover God’s purposes and calling for their lives. And, finally, we hope, and pray, that they will have developed inquisitive minds, a deep love of learning as well as a firm grasp on the methods used to learn.
The day ended well—wild children chatting about 1st day adventures, a dear friend/tutor and her kids over for dinner, sleepy happy children snuggling down in their beds, and me finishing Day 7′s post about: Live Intentional.
Thanks for joining me.
*****
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I love this. I have met a lot of moms via blogging who homeschool, have a few friends who were homeschooled, and have also talked to my mom about it (she and my father are both public school educators and my brother and I went through the public schools), so I’ve been able to gain a lot of different perspectives and think there are pros and cons to every system.
Your prayers and desires for your children are beautiful, and I thank you for sharing them. And I love the way you started – it hooks us in beautifully. Please keep writing. I think it is another step on your road to living intentionally, that you choose to write these moments down, to record your life, to actively remember.
My Mom was also a public school educator. She was very against homeschooling, but after being diagnosed with lung cancer, and during the last five months of her life, I think she began to appreciate it. And, I do not regret one minute of time my kids got to spend with her (not doing school) that year. I’m not the world’s greatest homeschool Mom, but I love every minute I get to spend with my kids.
Thanks for your encouraging words. I will keep writing—it is both fun and therapeutic!