My One Word

Six year ago today, we ended a season of church ministry, and began a season of cross cultural "missions" in Guatemala. Here we are at the beginning of the journey... Blake and I so excited...and so naive. ha!

And here we are at the end of the six years, entering back into church ministry. I want to blog about my transition, and in this blog I describe some of my Guatemala journey. This is my personal journey. It isn't Blake's or my kids' or our family's. It's just mine, and just a part. I wish Blake blogged. His journey in Guatemala was completely different than mine, and I'd love for people to read about it. Maybe he will do that one day. But for now,  I'm going to share a piece of my story. 

Before we left Guatemala, Blake and I emailed several pastors and their wives and asked if they would be willing to meet with us during our time in Texas. During these meetings, we boldly asked them to please give us all the wisdom they could think to give us in the amount of time it took for us to drink our coffee together or eat our meal. And we soaked up every word like a couple of thirsty desert wanderers. 

One of the guys who is a mission pastor and former missionary, asked Blake and I and our big kids for one word to describe our time in Guatemala. I could come up with lots of words: 

Beautiful - the mountains, volcanoes, the weather, the people, and a thousand memories that I will cherish forever. 

Proud - of my husband and the leader he was, our staff and their dedication and compassion, the people in the communities that showed strength and resilience beyond description.

Grateful - for all the friends and family that supported us in so many ways, for our Guatemalan friends who graciously embraced us into their lives and homes and hearts, for friendships that will continue despite the miles between us. 

But the word I came up with and gave to him was the word Humbled. 

I pondered it later, asking myself why that was the word I gave. As I searched my heart, I realized that I used that word because of how often I felt humbled sometimes even to the point of humiliation. I had many moments that I felt not good enough. I often fell short of my own expectation and the expectations I felt others had of me. I often felt ashamed that I couldn't do more and be more. In looking back over the past six years, I just didn't feel like I could give myself a good grade.

I knew that these thoughts and feelings were areas that I needed a touch from the Lord. 

As I have prayed about it over the past few weeks, I have felt the Lord bring to mind more than once, something that was shared with Blake and I several weeks ago.

We asked one of the pastors that we met with how he deals with feelings of insecurity and offense when people leave the church, or don't like the sermon, or get mad about a decision that is made. 

"How do you handle that?" 

"How do you prevent the emotions of that from taking over everything else going on in your life and ministry?" 

"How do you move forward and not stay offended or insecure?"

His response was short, but powerful. 

"I ask God for a word. One word from the Lord about the situation is all that it takes to give me peace to move forward. Just one word." 

There it is again..... ONE WORD.... 

Maybe that's what I needed in this instance. Maybe I needed to ask God for ONE WORD that would describe my time in Guatemala. 

So I started doing that, asking God and asking and asking again. 

Finally, I started sensing Him move in my heart in this area.

I felt Him showing me all the hard things that I did during our time in Guatemala.

We arrived in Guatemala with two children. During our time in Guatemala they went through their preteen years and became teenagers. They weren't always happy in Guatemala. That was hard. 

I got pregnant and had another baby when my first two were 10 and 12. That was wonderful, but hard.

I adopted a baby. That, too, was wonderful but hard. 

Having two babies 12 months apart, breastfeeding them both for a time, getting up with them both in the night, keeping them both happy and healthy, all while also having a teenager and a pre-teen... That was hard. 

Trying to master a new language in 45 minute spurts here and there when I got to take a break from the four kids and be involved with ministry? Fumbling my words with our Guatemalan staff and realizing again and again how far behind my Spanish was from the full time American staff? That was hard.

Being the wife of a husband directing a ministry and hearing about all of the highs and not letting myself get jealous, and hearing about all the lows and not holding on to bitterness? That was hard. 

Realizing that I couldn't do it all, and having to make choices about how I should prioritize my time?That was hard.

And there were other things, of course. You know that, and you get the point.... And I know I don't have the edge on hard. Many of you are walking through hard things that make my hard things seem as simple as Kindergarten. I recognize that. 

But I definitely began to see a pattern as I reviewed my time in Guatemala:

God led me to do a lot of hard things.

I cherish my time in Guatemala. We have so many wonderful, hilarious, and unforgettable stories and moments, but it was almost always some level of hard.

Some may say much of the hard was from choices Blake and I made on our own, things that we "brought upon ourselves."

I can understand that, but I also know the hand of God was behind these "choices". 

And I began to feel Him truly confirm that within me.

My steps were ordained by Him.  

He CHOSE me. 

To move to Guatemala in 2013 and stay until 2018 - I was CHOSEN

To be my big kids' mama - I was CHOSEN

To conceive and give birth to Logan - I was CHOSEN

To adopt Grayson - I was CHOSEN

To be Blake's wife - I was CHOSEN

To love the staff (and others) the best I could, in the time I had, with the Spanish I had - I was CHOSEN

What is my one word to describe my time in Guatemala? CHOSEN

I didn't do anything to earn any of it. But every step was a gift. 

And every time I was able to do anything, offer anything, or even receive anything even in my weaknesses and fumbling... it was an undeserved blessing.  

Maybe you, too, are in a season where you aren't the best, aren't the most qualified, and don't have it all together, please know that you are still CHOSEN.

I had another pastor tell me recently that God was sending me to Kalamazoo, Michigan because they needed all of me, even my weaknesses. 

Your kids need you. Your spouse needs you. Your friends, co-workers, and neighbors need you. The people you are serving and loving or ministering to, (even if it's just in 45 minute spurts here and there in very mediocre Spanish), they need you.

Rest tonight in the fact that you are CHOSEN, and God is going to use all of you, even your weaknesses.

Fourteen is for Growing

I am going to start off this birthday blog talking about myself....

When I was thirteen I went to a small Christian school that I had gone to since Kindergarten. I had a best friend, a boyfriend, and a whole lot of confidence. Our class was the oldest at the school, and the plan was to continue to add a grade so that our class could eventually graduate together. But towards the end of the year, the school decided not to offer an eighth grade. I felt like a little bird being kicked out of my warm, comfortable nest. My boyfriend broke up with me, my best friend started homeschooling with another girl that had been in our class, and my new life was planned out for me. My mom would be homeschooling me and my sister. Looking back it felt a lot like leaving a fun party, and being put in time out in a really quiet, non-exciting corner.

But you know what? I am so, so thankful.

The year I was fourteen, I volunteered two days a week at a local hospital. I learned how to quietly serve others.

The year I was fourteen, I decided that I really needed to make my youth group my social group. I became good friends with several kids that I still consider friends today. I even ended up marrying one of them.

The year I was fourteen, I started babysitting three or four, or even five times a week and working in the children's ministry at our church. I learned responsibility, started saving money, and discovered how much I really loved kids.

The year I was fourteen, I realized that I wasn't as important as I thought, but I also realized that I was more valuable than I had ever known, and I learned the difference between the two. Thinking you're important causes you to be selfish and prideful, understanding your value causes you to serve and love others.

When I look back at your 13th year, Hope, I can't help but compare it to mine.
You were at a small Christian school.
You were comfortable.
You had friends.
You had a lot of fun.

And now... it has ended. And not only are we taking you away from your school, but we are taking you away from the country that you have known as home since you were eight years old. And although we are moving back to the States, we are moving 12 hours from the closest Texas border. (Do you want to build a snowman?) I know a bit how you feel, but I also know that it is even harder that what I experienced. I recognize how hard this is, and I am hugely grateful and hugely proud of how brave you are being in this season. You might not see the incredible strength you have, but I see it.



 

In this next year of life, I am praying that God does for you what He did for me at your age.

I am praying that you find:
- A place to serve.
- A place to build forever friendships.
- A place to discover your passions and giftings.
- A place to understand your intrinsic value.

Have big faith in God, "Baby Hope". The toughest seasons often bring the most treasured gifts.
Stay strong, stay brave, and don't lose ALL your sass. ;)

Happy 14!!! It's going to be beautiful!

Humility Exceeding Gratitude

 
    In light of recent events, I found it interesting and ironic that in the FIRST CHAPTER of my sophomore level Public Speech class there was a section on ethnocentrism. (Ethnocentrism - the belief in the inherent superiority of one's own ethnic group or culture) The text book exhorted its readers to check themselves for attitudes of enthocentlrism, and to make it of extreme importance not to let ethnocentrism come out in their public speeches.

    We talk to every student that comes on a trip with our ministry about this very thing. We can be grateful for our country, even proud of it, without believing it to be superior to other countries. In our debrief time with students we do an exercise with them where they have to list and discuss some traits and values about their country and culture from which Guatemala could learn, and then they have to list and discuss traits and values about Guatemala and its culture from which their home country could learn. After just two weeks spent serving Guatemalans, ministering beside our Guatemalan staff, and living with Guatemala families in host homes, pointing out strengths and positives about this beautiful country and its people is NEVER a problem. Our students leave with an awareness that there are basic values seen here in Guatemala that they want to take back to their home, and weave into the rest of their lives. They come to serve, but they realize they receive even more than they give just about 100% of the time.
 
      In high school, I got a job where I worked closely with African American children, day care workers, community leaders, and pastors. Before then, I had known one African American family and that's it. But for three years in high school, by the grace of God, I got to spend hours at a time talking on a deep level with African Americans. I grew to see, that as a culture group, they were more resilient, more intentional, and more brave than anyone I'd ever known in my own culture group. I was inspired over and over and over. I was motivated to embrace some of their traits into my life as best as I could. I have deep respect for African American people.

  In middle school, I took three trips to Mexico. I also got to be around many Latinos through the same job I mentioned above. I fell in love with their inner strength, their loyalty to family, and the way they live fully in the moment. I wanted to speak their language, understand their culture, and live my life in a way that looked similar to their's. I was secretly proud that I was often mistaken as a Mexican. :)

     Since we came to Christian Academy of Guatemala, Camden, Hope, and I have had the opportunity to get to know many Koreans. My boss is Korean, 1/3 of my class is Korean, and both of my big kids have several Korean friends. I am giddy at the opportunity we have to get to know a new culture group. I have been deeply impressed by their politeness, their kind smiles, and their strong sense of community. Recently our school had their yearly mandatory meeting. Guatemalan, North, American, and Korean moms and dads gathered in the chapel, mostly finding seats with their own culture group. I looked across the aisle to see two rows of Korean women and wondered to myself where all of the dads were. I asked later, and was told that it was like that every year. Most of the Korean dads sign their voting proxies over to their wives, and the wives show up together. I think about myself and how here in Guatemala I am so nervous about many things. Blake has to pay the bills, make phone calls in Spanish, and drive me to new places (at least) the first time. And I probably would have pouted for 12 hours if Blake had signed his proxy over to me and not come with me to the meeting. As I think about those two rows of lovely Korean women sitting there together "getting business done", I am totally and completely inspired. I'm inspired to do things on my own more often, to be stronger and more independent, and to, at least every once in awhile, let Blake sign over his proxy.
 
     I often thank God that I am from the USA. I feel humbled and comforted that at any time I can buy a ticket, get on a place, and be welcomed back to my home land. But you know what I'm not? I'm not proud. Because I did absolutely nothing to deserve being born in the USA. It just happened that way. I still have prejudices. I still see racism in my heart that sickens me. I still have so far to go to truly rid myself of ethnocentrism. But I won't stop working on it. I will still strive for humility that  exceeds my gratitude. For me humility means being aware that there are things I can learn, things our culture group can learn, and things our country can learn from every other culture group and every other county on this continent. Let's take the advice of my sophomore level speech book and check ourselves for ethnocentrism and for the love of Trump, keep it out of our public speeches.

Camden Bailey is 15!!!

Fifteen sounds waaayyyyy older than fourteen, right?!! He also started high school last week which sounds waaayyyy older than middle school. I am excited for what the next four years hold. I am excited that he's in a school that he loves. I am excited that he's surrounded by a group of really great kids at school and in our neighborhood. I am excited that his friends are from the U.S., from Canada, from Korea, from Sudan, and from Guatemala. I am excited that he started playing competitive sports again this week. I am excited that he has coaches and teachers and pastors that know him by name and care for him academically, socially, emotionally, and spiritually. I know life won't always be easy, but I am so grateful for the love and strength that is all around him.

A few days ago, on Hope's thirteenth birthday we asked Camden if he had any advice for her as she began her teenage years. Without hesitation he said, "Like everyone." Her response: "But people irritate me." He shrugged and kept eating his pizza...his medium size pizza that he ate almost entirely on his own, I might add. It wasn't until later that I decided that "like everyone" sounded like the 15 year old translation for the second greatest commandment. The next Sunday at church our associate pastor preached on how love is never wasted on anyone. On the way home Camden said, "Nate just gave the church the same advice I gave Hope." And I see that in his life. He doesn't speak badly about people and he is kind and respectful to people of all ages. I'm thankful that this isn't something that is just natural to him, but proven by the fact that it was his advice to his sister, it's an intentional decision on his part.

So, I think he's in a pretty good place, but I also think he's totally still a normal 15 year old male.... I have to choose my battles, and try not to make mountains out of mole hills.... But it's hard sometimes... Like last Sunday when we were walking down the street, and he tripped or ran into something...who knows, and out of his mouth came some strange noise... "What was that?" I asked. "I cussed in German," he replied.

And I asked myself, "Do I lecture about how cussing in German is no better than cussing in English? Or do I tell him I'm impressed he's working on a third language?"

It's a quandary, I tell ya....

He is now at the age that Blake and I were when we started a relationship. Crazy!! I know chances are high that he hasn't met his forever girl yet, but I'm nice to all the girls around here close to his age just in case. 😃  I feel like I have prepared for these last four years. Since he was little bitty, I've been pretty future focused with him. I was always on guard not to let him stay "my baby" in my mind. I've been intentional to remind myself that I WILL have to let him go. I never wanted people to wonder if I was more in love with my son than I was with my husband, because we all know how creepy that is... So this is it... the last stretch...four more years. At the beach, recently, I was staring out at the waves, asking God to speak to my heart. It's kind of thing with us when I'm at the beach. I sit and listen and He speaks. So far, we're batting a hundred. But this time I wasn't hearing anything. I sat and sat and listened and listened. Then I finally spoke to Him. I said, "I have never seen the ocean in Guatemala this calm." And then I felt three words form in my mind and heart, Consistency. Routine. Foundation. These words made up our lives his first six years. My life revolved around my little ones, and making sure life was consistent for them, and that I gave them a foundation of security. When I felt those words form in my heart, I knew he had been speaking to me through the unusual calmness of the ocean. Go back to those values. These last four years be consistent, have a routine focused around Camden (and his siblings), give him a foundation of security. Those baby years are important, but it's these last four years he will remember. So, Camden, on your fifteenth birthday I want you to know that even though our life is much busier than when you were little, you and your brothers and sister are still my most important job. You matter deeply to me. I want more than anything for us to finish well. I want you to remember your home being one of laughter, deep conversations, and where growth was encouraged and mistakes were forgiven. I want to do what I can to make these next four years your best years yet.       

                   

Happy Birthday, Camden. I am so thankful to be your mom! 

Destiny Hope is 13!

Our baby girl is a teenager!! I think when you're the baby of the family for 10 years, you have the right to keep the title for the rest of your life, even if you do have to share it with your youngest brother. But our fiery Hope is definitely no longer a baby, or even a little girl. As I see her entering this new season of life, I feel like I am re-living my own middle school years again. How vividly I remember all of the emotions! These aren't easy years, baby girl, so I want to share some thoughts with you as you enter your teenage years... 

You are already figuring out that everyone isn't always going to like you. And pretty much no one will like you 100% of the time. Sometimes you will feel left out, you will feel ignored, or you will feel inferior. And it will hurt deep. But I pray that you remember that God made you to love people well. So when you feel like you are NOT being loved well, go find someone that appears to feel like you do and focus on helping them to feel better. 

You will also find out that you can be mean. You will discover that you can say harsh words, give haughty expressions, and cause others to feel embarrassed or belittled. You will see that sometimes prideful behavior can elevate you. But I pray hard that the Holy Spirit won't let you get away with it. I pray His conviction will hunt you down like the world's best hound dog.

You will want a boyfriend, and probably get one eventually. I don't know what you will learn from this boy exactly, because I don't know what kind of boy you will choose. But here's my advice to you: make sure he knows your daddy. Not because Daddy has a gun over the fireplace or a metal bat in the garage (because he doesn't), but because Daddy has a pastoral heart and I've seen more than a few boys (and men) learn to love Jesus in a bigger way just by being around him.

You will have days that you don't like me or your Dad. Sometimes it will be because Daddy and I are being jerks, and sometimes it will be because we are being good parents. But I want you to know that either way you have an opportunity every time you are mad at us. You have the opportunity to extend grace. I want to teach you more about grace. Grace is taking a step towards restoration. I see you as a person capable of much grace because you are a forgiver. You get mad fast with your red-headed temper, but you forgive just as quickly. People that forgive quickly are people of grace. You didn't get that from me, so I admire it so much in you. And that's why I want to encourage you to continue growing in that by doing Daddy and I the honor of extending us grace even when we don't deserve it.

You have the opportunity to teach your brothers about girls. You have the responsibility of helping to prepare them for their future wives and daughters. Pray about what that means for you. I think it's something powerful. And know that because that is part of your calling right now, that the enemy is going to try to steal it from you. He is going to try to put up walls between you and your brothers. He's going to want you to be irritated by them, and them by you. Fight hard against that. Your brothers are a gift, and you are a gift to them.

You are like your dad, your Grammy, and a little bit like your Aunt Miranda. I tell everyone you're my opposite, but I know that's not true in every way. You and Camden are both dreamers like me. Maybe it's because I've taught you to be that way, or maybe not. But I want you to keep sharing your dreams with me. You know how you want to be a vet? And you want to work with small AND large animals, but you found out that you can't do that many places? Then you found out you could do it in Alaska. So now you want to move to Alaska. You got that from me, baby girl. You'll move to Alaska before you give up your dream. Stay that way. Forever. And I will cheer you all the way to Alaska. I give you my word.

Everything in life is going to seem like such a BIG DEAL. It's because you're a girl, you're 13, and you just have that kind of personality. You are sassy, stubborn, and dramatic. But please know that life is made up of so very many seasons. They come and they go. I want you to learn how to live big picture. I want you to learn how to live true to your convictions and your calling. I want you to learn how to ask God who you are and ask Him what He thinks about you. I don't want you to change for anyone but Jesus. I want you to be considerate about other people's feelings but not controlled by them. I want you to be you and do your thing and sing your song and walk your walk and laugh your laugh and cry your tears. I want you to do it all and not feel like you have to measure up to anyone's definition of what a girl or woman should be. No boxes for you, baby girl. Live Free.

Happy Birthday to my favorite daughter! I love you mucho!  

Season Change

No one can say the Davis family gets stuck in ruts. We seem to like change. In just under two months, we will be making our ELEVENTH move in SIXTEEN years of marriage. We are staying in Guatemala!! But we ARE moving out of Magdalena. Everyone in the family (well the four of us that are older than two years old) could write completely different blogs about this upcoming move, but here is my perspective. 

When we came to Guatemala, a little over four years ago, we came as teams directors in charge of the short term teams, semester students, and summer staff that come alongside our full time staff throughout the year. We spent the first six months learning Spanish, adapting to culture, and Blake worked with the director doing many different things as he learned the ins and outs of the ministry. Then for the next year we got to really do our job as teams directors. I was in charge of cooking for teams (when they weren’t eating with their host families), and I also really enjoyed working with the semester students and summer staff. Twenty-one months into our time here, Blake became the director  soon after Logan was born. For those first several months, Blake was neck deep into that transition, while I was equally as deep in baby land. When Logan was 11 months old, we found out about Grayson, and 3 weeks later he joined our family. The next several months I was drowning in babies. Happily drowning most of the time, but still completely consumed. 

Last August (nine months ago), I had a whole day home alone with just Grayson. He still napped twice a day, so I had plenty of time to spend with the Lord. Towards the end of the day, while I was praying, I felt Him speak to my heart and show me that I was entering into a season that would be more restful, and that I needed to soak it in because it would be temporary. I felt Him impress upon my heart that a change was coming in the future, and it would mean a big change for me, personally. As I wrote out the thoughts I was sensing in my journal, I felt no dread. I felt excitement, and a sense of wonder that the Lord was willing to walk with me so intimately. I spent the next several months praying and searching for what God had next for me. It hasn’t been an easy season, even though it has been more restful. Waiting for God, feeling the stirring but not having specifics, thinking I knew and then having doors shut….it was frustrating on occasion, confusing often, and constantly humbling. I have felt at times like Jacob who was struggling with the angel of the Lord and finally clung to him and said, “I won’t let go until you bless me!” The blessing I wanted was direction. I have been desperate for His leading.

As a reminder, Camden and Hope started at an English speaking, Christian school in January. It has been everything we hoped for and more. They went from begging us to move back to the States, to, a few weeks ago, asking us to promise them that we wouldn’t leave Guatemala until they graduated from high school. My gratitude overflows. We have a missionary discount at the school, and in return, I have to volunteer a certain amount of hours each semester. Besides the long drive to get there and back, I have thoroughly enjoyed doing my volunteer hours. In fact, I have put in several more than what is required. 

There was one day that I spent volunteering that will be forever imprinted in my memory. I was substituting for the 4 year old preschool class. It was chapel day, and I was sitting on the front row with all my little students for the day, and all of the other elementary classes were filing in with their teachers. All of a sudden I got this feeling. A specific sense from the Holy Spirit that I have only felt three other times in my life. I just KNEW that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I felt a peace and a purpose that I can’t put into words. I realized that I loved the school not just for what it was doing for MY kids, but for what it was doing for every kid on the campus. I felt a passion for missionary kids well up inside of me that I knew could have only come from the Lord. 

There are dozens of details between then and now, but God has been opening doors and leading our hearts, and confirming Himself to us in some amazing ways. In July, we will be moving to a neighborhood very close to the school. Then, in August, I will begin teaching one Bible class a day at the school in either the middle school or high school (this part of the plan is still in the works so we will have to keep you posted). Besides the opportunity to teach a class, I will also be working to finish my Bachelor’s degree online through Luther Rice College and Seminary.

The big kids are thrilled that they will live close to the school, and have the opportunity to participate in after school activities like sports and drama. Right now they spend 2 - 3 hours a day commuting to school and back depending on traffic. In addition, the neighborhood, where we will live, has several other families with kids from their school, so they are very excited about that as well. For Blake, this move will cause him to have to carry the burden of the 2-3 hour a day commute. He won’t be able to come home and grab lunch, or ask me to run something up to him, or have me be a consistent part of the work and ministry here in Magdalena. He feels confident that God is moving us in this way, but he is also aware of the personal sacrifice. The big kids and I are aware of that too, and are so thankful for his willingness to do this for his family.

 For me, I am excited and scared. In our 16.5 years of marriage, I have leaned on Blake more than I like to admit. In our years in Dallas/Fort Worth, Brownsville, and Guatemala when I started feeling overwhelmed with all going on in ministry, I withdrew, I buried myself into my home and my children, and I let Blake carry the load of our calling. I depended on his ability to persevere, to continue to hear God’s command to stay, and to find joy and passion even when it was hard. But this…. this new season of me teaching AND being a student… these are MY callings. I’m going to have to “grow up” and learn and practice, for myself, what I have watched Blake walk out for the past decade and a half. I will have to practice perseverance, staying, and finding joy and passion even when it’s hard. Blake told me last week, in a tone that didn’t make me feel belittled, “You’re going to have be willing to have your character stretched.” One thing I keep replaying in my mind is something our friend Gabe said a few weeks ago, “If you have an opportunity and it scares you, then it’s probably God.” 

So that’s where we are at… Blake will continue to direct the ministry of Students International Guatemala, and the kids and I will be pouring our time into school… for me that is two schools - online school as a student and at CAG as a teacher. 

We humbly and earnestly ask for your prayers. We have learned by experience that they make a difference. Pray that God binds our hearts together even as our paths are a little more distanced from each other. Pray that we will fulfill God’s calling on our lives and bring Him glory in this season, and that we keep Him first always. 

Failure is a Step

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.