I always tried to be careful not to be too "rah rah homeschooling" during the 9.5 years of our homeschool career. Even though I felt pretty confident that we would homeschool all the way through, I didn't want to have to eat my words, and I also didn't want to offend anyone, and I ALSO didn't want to indirectly talk anyone into homeschooling that wouldn't do a good job of it. So although there were times I talked about why I loved it FOR US, I tried never to advertise that it was some amazing or "better" avenue of education.
And here I am, no longer a homeschool mom. The last two and a half years of homeschooling were not fun or wonderful or any other positive word you could come up with. And the last year was horrible. It was pull your hair out, bang your head on the wall, gouge your eyes out horrible. There were several times last semester I called Blake at work just to say, " I can't. I can't. I CAN'T!!!!", in a decibel level not recommended for over the phone. I was miserable. Camden and Hope were miserable. Blake was at a loss, and every idea he came up with was only met by a death stare from his miserable wife (that's me). I don't know why we failed. I don't know if it was all on me. I don't know if it was my kids, and even the best homeschool moms I know would have thrown in the towel if they were forced to home educate my two. I don't know if it was because we live in Guatemala. I don't know if it was adding two babies to the family. But we most certainly hit a wall that we could not climb over, go around, or dig under. I know, because we tried it all. When God (through generous churches and individuals) provided a way of escape for us all I was so relieved and happy that those emotions clouded out any other thoughts or feelings. I was free.
Camden and Hope have completed 12 days of school. They love it. They swear to never homeschool their children even for one day. (Thank you, my dear ones, for appreciating the fact that I gave 9.5 years of my life to educating you. Please forget the 7 fun years we had and focus just on these last two and a half years of torture. I think I will do the same, you stubborn, difficult angels.) I spoke with one of their teachers yesterday who hesitantly told me, after giving two specific praises (very diplomatic), that they are having a hard time focusing and being organized. I wanted to applaud her. I wanted to fall on my knees and hug her around the ankles. "I KNOW, RIGHT!?!!" "Now please tell me how I can help you fix this because that is why they are now sitting in YOUR classroom and not MY living room." Hallelujah.
Today and tomorrow they are off of school. A four day weekend. As I have them under the same roof with me today, on a week day, I am struck all of a sudden with all kinds of new questions and new feelings. Why did it not work for us? Why can some moms raise and homeschool a half a dozen or more of their own offspring with grace and competency. These children flourish into young teenagers that laugh at how easy the SAT is, speak Latin, play three instruments, know the New Testament by memory, and never disrespect their parents. I read the books. I tried so hard. I prayed. I sacrificed. Why did I fail? Maybe I wasn't smart enough. Maybe it's because I didn't put enough hours into preparation and teaching. Maybe it's because I lack creativity and have even greater lack of any kind of desire to clean up after creativity. Maybe it's because my temper is too short or I am always dreaming about the future instead of living in the moment. Maybe it's because I didn't do a good enough job when they were little that now I am reaping the consequences with middle schoolers that are disorganized, unfocused, and unmotivated. Maybe it's probably all of those things. And so I'm rolling around in that today. Rolling around in my failures like a big ole stinky pig rolling around in the mud. I failed. I did. But glory, glory, hallelujah to a gracious God, He threw me a lifeline. He gave us Christian Academy of Guatemala and a group of teachers to help us help our two big kids succeed and be the best they can be.
I want to say that I am so, so proud of my homeschool mom friends...some of my very best friends homeschool their children. They've been my saving grace the last two years, and I pray that I will be that for them on their toughest days. And you know what else? I am going to intentionally be their biggest cheerleader when they succeed even where and when I did not. I never want my failures to make me resent my friends' successes. Ever.
As I write this blog this evening, I am determining to pull myself out of this funk. I'm purposing to forgive myself for not meeting my goal of graduating my children from homeschooling. I'm giving myself permission to wake up tomorrow and go back to not feeling guilty for how deliriously happy I am that Camden and Hope are in school. And last of all I am making a decision to grow from this area of failure. This is what I feel like this specific failure has given me.
1. Failure has made me more compassionate. Did you disappoint yourself? Let me hug you, and will you hug me back? Did you realize that parenting little kids was a heck of a lot easier than parenting pre-teens and teenagers? Come share a brownie with chocolate icing with me and we'll commiserate together. Do you fear that you'll never really succeed at anything? Let's cry together about that because I fear the same on a pretty regular basis.
I want my failure to make me more approachable, to make me a better listener, and to make me give longer hugs.
2. Failure makes me more dependent on Jesus. I can't be that mom that says, "Thank you Jesus that I'm not like those other moms." Thanks to the last two and a half years I completely identify as one of those "other moms." I have fallen short. I have needed help. I have not had everything that my children needed to thrive. And because of that I have spent many hours begging Jesus for His help and for Him to send help. In the last year, more than any other time in my life, I have come to Him pleading with Him from a desperate heart and then found myself minutes later quietly sitting in His presence feeling ministered to by His quiet voice in my heart. There is nothing, nothing sweeter than having somewhere to turn when you are at the end of yourself.
3. Failure sets you up for success. One thing that I feel absolutely certain of is that God wanted Camden and Hope at Christian Academy of Guatemala. I just have a peace about that, a knowing, an excited expectancy. There is something He wants to do in their hearts that will happen at or because of something at that school. A teacher, a speaker, a chapel service, a situation, a challenge, who knows? But there will be God things that happen in their hearts in this season. Another thing I know for absolute certain is that we would never have put them in this school if things hadn't gotten really, really tough. I wanted to homeschool and I did NOT want to fundraise for the tuition. So....if God wanted them at this school then it kind of makes sense that maybe He had to allow things to get really, really tough for us to ask Him for an answer, for help, for a way of escape. It took desperate measures for us to allow God the opportunity to lead us to CAG. This isn't the first time in our lives that really tough situations put us on the path for something beautiful. It's kind of been a pattern. So if you're in a time of wondering about the mess you find yourself in, have hope. God's pretty amazing at ushering in new seasons, at redeeming our circumstances, and healing our hearts.
So have faith! We are in this together, I'm on your side, Jesus is closer than your next breath, and failure doesn't have to be as awful as it sounds.
