Love Brightly

Since I never completed my post on how and why we chose public school, and since I DID write a post about our parent interview for private Christian school, many of you have asked, "What happened with PCA? Did she not get in? Was it too much money? Why didn't you choose it?" We loved every experience we had with PCA. The teachers, students, administrators--wow, they are the BEST--so respectful, enthusiastic and kind. PCA is like the fun of Disney World wrapped in the Holy Spirit. They integrate family and faith into their schooling and produce a truly stellar education. It was heart-renching to turn down their VERY GENEROUS financial assistance offer. But on the whole, we felt like it was not right for this time. Karl and I value "room for margin." We don't pack out our schedule, finances, or any aspect of life to the max because when we've done this in the past, it leads to more stress and less flexibility. If there's no room for margin in our ...

I held back tears as I walked into the school. While clutching my 8-page stack of papers, my hands trembled--partly with rage, partly with anticipation of confronting the principal. I shook my head while I said to Karl, "I never thought I'd be on this side of the table." I planned to never be THAT parent--the one complaining about my child's teacher. But after 2+ weeks of tears and fears, after a sham of a parent-teacher conference, I trudged into the principal's office with documentation of mental and emotional abuse--8 typed pages worth. If you (reader) are looking for a blog post to confirm your suspicions that public school is all bad, you will not find that here. I grew up in public school. I have walked through most of my life while my mother taught in public school. My sister followed. My aunts and cousins work for the public school system. And no doubt, if Karl and I had not joined the ministry, I would have served alongside them. And while yes, the syst...

Today, I am a window washer, by choice. Splatters of dry rain wipe away with one stroke. Transforming my view, I sigh, satisfied at the finish. Clean dishes, clean laundry, but the dirty closely follow. I work diligently. Perpetual tasks, fleeting results. Little arms I embrace. Little hurts I kiss away. Trifle disputes I settle. Throughout the day, I repeat. Far from the finish. What's my progress? Results not instant like window washing. But I will repeat my steps tomorrow. An army of ants in my bathtub, revealed as I lift away a towel. Again? I am weary. They swarm my sanctuary; I terminate. Insecurities, like ants, swarm my mind. Supposed gone, but You reveal. Again, Lord? You are faithful to terminate. You, O God, are my true sanctuary. Your living, unchanging Word. "Train a child in the way he should go..." I will. With Your help. Meager windows. I return my focus: My magnum opus, my lifework far from completion. Little arms I jo...

So as you know from my previous post , my Kindergartener has had a rough start. Today she said, "I liked school a little bit better today...but not a lot better." Then she said, "I feel like I'm dreaming. Whenever I walk past a mirror or some glass at school, I look at myself and think, 'I can't believe I'm already in school.'" [ ok, is it just because I'm her mother that I find not only her self-reflection but also her ability to articulate it pretty incredible? ] Then she looked me square in the eye and said, "What if I AM dreaming? Maybe you should pinch me." I smiled in wonder at her and said, "Baby Girl, you aren't dreaming." "How do you know?" [ What? Has she seen the movie Inception? My 5-year-old is contemplating whether her current reality is in fact reality? Again, I'm amazed by her. ] I replied, "Because I know that I am not asleep. I am not dreaming, and this is really happening, and...

Our "Baby Girl" started Kindergarten this week. She is all smiles in this picture. But pictures can be deceiving. Actually, she's been dreading the start of Kindergarten. She's cried at the thought of going. She had a wonderful school-like experience this summer, and she's missing her friends and teachers from there. She doesn't want to make a new start with all new people. She's afraid of learning her way around in new buildings and learning new rules. She doesn't want to leave mommy and her brother and sister during the day. All these things legitimately cause anxiety for us grown-ups when we are transitioning. We thought, "Once she has her first day, she will have so much fun, and that will ease her transition anxiety." But we were wrong. Her first day was terrible. All of the fears in her little mind came to fruition: she got lost in the hallway, she didn't make a new best friend "as good as Ivy, or Abby or Emma." Sh...

Summer is always an adventure for us because we pack up our life for 2 months and move our family into various housing situations. The challenge always makes for a perspective-refresher, and usually a story to look back on and laugh (many of you have mentioned to us personally our Summer at the Peter Pan ). We lived in the Silver Slipper motel in Branson, which before our arrival failed multiple city inspections and probably housed only cockroaches. The Slipper had a gigantic light-up high heel for a sign which turned in the moonlight. It was the type of motel that upon sight, you would assume that the glowing slipper was not the only thing that had been turned in the moonlight there, if you know what I mean. Since that summer, the city bulldozed the place to the ground. We've lived in a community-bath, non-air-conditioned dorm room in 95 degree heat while I was 6 months pregnant. I never had to endure community-bath while in college, but while married and pregnant, I walked down...

I don't know why Jim's rules allow for 5 movies and only 3 books on the Deserted Island. (I don't really understand how we get to watch the movies either--did a portable device with limitless battery float ashore?). No matter. Not my rules, so we played along. Karl and I both immediately said, "#1: The Bible," and he replied, "That's a given. Let's each pick 3 in addition to that." [And this is where one bent rule led to us making up our own game...but I'll get to that in another post]. While I selected my movies based on criteria of enjoyment and inspiration, the printed word can have so many more functions than that, so we made our choices based on which books would prove most advantageous to us in a deserted island environment. At first I thought about grabbing a medical-self-diagnosis book and an encyclopedia of tropical plants, but then I thought that in isolation, my MIND would need more protecting than my physical body (even though my ...