Climbing Mt. Homeschooling

Climbing Mt. Homeschooling

Article from The Spunky Homeschool Blog

I was discouraged about the progress of our homeschooling recently. I dumped my tale of woe to my dear husband. (Over a Starbucks of course.) "Nothing seemed to going as planned." I lamented. "How did I ever think I could teach one child how to figure out the area of a circle, while training another to figure out the circular area in the bathroom? " I was having a classic, woe is me, meltdown moment.

My husband, the steady one, just listened attentively. Bless his heart, living with me all these years, he has learned it is better to listen than speak at times like these. Lest my pity party cross over into the dreaded "and it's all your fault" discussion. For which, I will later regret and have to make ammends. Finally exhausted, I paused for a few minutes to catch my breath.

"Do you know what it's like to climb Mount Everest?" he asked.

"No. You know me. If it has anything to do with athletics I'm blissfully clueless."

"Well, that's what you're doing."

"Huh."

"I just read an article on it. When you climb Mount Everest there are times of sheer endurance. Moments that test your stamina and ability to climb one foot higher. As you climb higher the pressure intensifies. You're in one of those times right now. But if you keep going you'll eventually get to the next camp. When you do, you'll look back down the mountain and wonder how you made it. But you made it. Then it's time to sit, rest, and acclimate yourself to the conditions at that level. That's just as important as the climb. You need to get used to the air at that level otherwise your brain can't handle the pressure. Then with a burst of energy you'll tackle the next climb only to be tested even more. The closer you get to the top the more strength it will take. But God has given us the ability to meet the challenges if we endure the hard times and rest as necessary. The challenge for you is not to give up when it's difficult. And not to rest too long that you don't go to the next level. "

That was the most encouraging thing he could say to me. He didn't try to pretend it would be easy. He perfectly described my atttitude and my struggle. He knew I wanted to continue. But the pressure of the moment were causing my mind to go a little crazy with anxiety.

Homeschooling our children is our goal. He was climbing it with me. But his strength gives him the ability to handle the struggles in a much different way. He can't climb the mountain for me. It is something I must learn to do, leaning on him and the Lord for guidance up to the top.

Curious, I decided to google how to climb Mount Everest . Here's a paragraph that I found:

"In life, and sometimes in death, Mount Everest has had a lasting effect on all of those who have challenged its heights. It can vanquish those who disrespect it, and mercilessly test those who honor it. Yet Everest is indifferent to your presence. Climb it and you will receive a lifetime dose of humility and exhilaration."

While no analogy is perfect, I think this might describe homeschooling.

It is a mountain to be climbed. We look at the summit from a distance below and wonder how am I ever going to get there from here. We hear the stories of those who have finished and wonder will we finish as well? Will my children be all that I envision them to be? More importantly, will they become all that God envisions them to be? " Mt. Homeschooling" will have a lasting effect on all those who have challenged its heights. I have been tested in ways I never imagined. Even with all the advanced preparation and research there are always unforseen challenges. . But just like Mount Everest I know that when I persevere and continue the climb to the top I will receive a lifetime dose of humility and exhilaration.

Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Phillipians 3:13-14

True Confessions of a Public High School Graduate

True Confessions of a Public High School Graduate

So there I was—my very first day in a public school, twelve years old, donning my most fashionable clothing, walking into the gymnasium full of glaring, unfamiliar faces. I was finally in the “real world”. For the previous seven years, I had attended a small Christian school and my soul ached to go to a “real school”. I liked it. But I admit, the first few days shocked me. And they should have. I had heard young people curse before, but not like it was their native language. I had even heard coarse jokes, sexual innuendos, and such; but I had not been aware of a society of children who wallowed in it. To my great detriment, there did come a day when I was no longer shocked. That day would change my life, my character, and my destiny forever.

I attended public high school in the eighties. (I have heard things have gotten even worse.) I boarded a bus around 7:15 a.m. There, as my character was still being molded, I witnessed cruelty, obscenity, and a total disregard for anything moral. When the bus approached Cindy’s house, everyone scurried to share a seat with someone else, even if there were three of four to that seat. There was always an empty seat for Cindy. Cindy was overweight, and poor. Her countenance revealed years of social abandonment and cruel regard. “Don’t sit with me! Sit over there! Oh no, she’s coming over here!” were the typical comments that welcomed Cindy onto the bus every morning.

Two of the “older” kids were usually in the back seat making out. The school bus seats were very high, for safety, (Ha! Save their bodies, destroy their souls!) and so one could do just about anything without being seen by the driver.

At only 8:00 in the morning, I had already witnessed enough wickedness to last a lifetime. Now we were at school. Soon I learned it was really cool to make fun of your teachers and hold a general disdain for any kind of academics. (When the majority of your day is spent with peers, they are naturally the ones for whom you want to “be cool”.) This was a conflict as I had a natural desire to please both peers and teachers. I spent the first few weeks of school crying. The new student has to be “broken in”, so all the girls made fun of me—for anything they could think of. When and if one persevered, this may pass.

Breaks between classes—that is what we looked forward to. You had one of several agendas: If you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, you must flee to him, exchange your fifth love letter of the day, possibly exchange some physical affection, and go back to class starry-eyed. Or if no lover, then you would flock together with your cronies and get the latest gossip. “Fight at 3:30 at the Shell station”…”Kevin and Amy broke up!”…”We made Mrs. Smith cry again today!” These were the gentle things of public school—the “innocence” if you will, of being a teenager—this was “real” life.

Then there were the other conversations exchanged here and there, before school, in the hall, at lunch, at PE, just about anytime. Those things that had shocked me at first. Those things, which having heard them enough times, began to be normal. “So-and-so lost her virginity last night”—she was fourteen. Parties, alcohol, drugs, etc., all very commonplace after awhile. Day after day, year after year, conditioning took place and I was no longer the frog jumping into boiling water.

So, after a year or two, I was one of them. Any reserve I held for sacred things had long dissolved. My Christian upbringing, the principles my parents had tried so diligently to instill had, at the very least, retreated so deeply into the recesses of my character as to appear invisible.

For thirteen years, the effects of this transformation gripped my life. I had once commented to my father, as he tried to make a decision about my going to public school, “You have raised me with a strong foundation…I want to go and share Christ with those kids…I am strong enough”. I was now rebellious, angry, confused, and wallowing in sin.

Today, by the grace and mercy of our Savior, I am a forgiven sinner, seeking after godliness, despite my many failures. So, “it all turned out to be OK in the end, right?” Wrong. The whole point of this article is to emphasize that the consequences of sin cannot be avoided, and they leave an ugly, painful trench in every life—even the life surrendered to God. I admit that my life is on a much smoother course than it could have been, by God’s grace. But did my renewed love for the Lord repair the damage that resulted from years of breaking His law, and being a companion to the wicked? Not a chance. I struggle much, and I know from where my struggle comes. And my heart grieves for the flippancy prevailing among parents this very day, as they turn their children over to Satan’s company to be devoured. I certainly do not blame my parents for my years of rebellion. I do not even blame them for sending me to public school—they didn’t know of an alternative. They did what they thought they had to do.

But now, on the other side of it, I am not ashamed to boldly challenge parents to think about their responsibility for the sanctity of their children. I cannot watch someone driving recklessly toward a cliff and not try my best to stop them! As Christians, we must search the Scriptures for wisdom in raising our children. And we must stop justifying our methods by saying, “Well, it doesn’t say_______anywhere in the Bible!” We must not see how little we can get away with, but rather strive for holiness, pressing toward the mark, seeking to resemble Christ as much as lies in us. I would plead with parents to realize the responsibility of being accountable for the children the Lord has given them. We need to be urgent, determined and devoted to guarding their hearts and minds. Let us commit to raising not mediocre children, bruised and wounded as they enter adulthood, but strong and mighty men and women, a godly generation with a legacy of purity!

(From Hearts For Family blog)

Ten Habits of a Happy Homeschool

Ten Habits of a Happy Homeschool

As I’ve reflected over the last ten years of teaching my children, a few habits we have developed over time have come to mind that have helped our home to be a happy place of learning.

1. I rise before my children and have at least ½ hour to myself and I dress and make my bed first thing and greet each child with a ‘good morning’ and a smile. This doesn’t come natural for me because my dad was a night owl and I followed in his footsteps. The change was not easy, but has been very rewarding.

2. We have a general routine that gives my children a map for their day. They feel secure and happy knowing the day’s general plan and their duties.

3. Every afternoon I have one hour to myself. No interruptions allowed (unless a child is bleeding to death!). My children are required to be on their beds at this time reading or writing what they wish, but no noise allowed. We’ve done this since they were toddlers and call it Quiet time.

4. I continue to educate myself as well as keep up a hobby. I consider this very important for ALL mothers.

5. I keep four books going at all times by my bedside and read ½ hour before bed, choosing whatever book I am in the mood for at the time. (fiction, spiritual, nonfiction and a child’s book I am proofreading)

6. I purpose not to yell and try to be pleasant when correcting, remaining firm, but kind. I am still learning to do this, but see the improvement and it makes everyone’s day go well since mom sets the tone for the day. What a great and wonderful responsibility given to mothers!

7. The children play outside at least two hours a day whether they want to or not. We also sharply limit unattended playtime with other children. The TV is in our bedroom so is virtually unused except for news and the occasional carefully chosen video or DVD.

8. We eat supper together in the evenings and we speak of worthy subjects. Often the children narrate to dad stories from the day’s lessons. It is a happy time.

9. We have a bedtime routine that includes mom or dad talking and praying with the children before bed and we make sure that they are not sad or angry while drifting off to sleep.

10. One evening a week is reserved for Family Fun Night -- even if it means saying ‘no’ to invitations elsewhere and one evening a week is Date Night for mom and dad -- even if it means staying at home and putting the children to bed early.

Lastly and most importantly, I have allowed myself to dream (or shall I say I have been given a vision?) and I’ve made all decisions in light of it, even when ridiculed. This has required the development of a thick skin. But history has shown us that anyone who blazed their own trail, who heard the beat of a different drummer and who challenged the status quo, faced similar obstacles --- They also changed the world.

Posted by lindafay
www.higherupandfurtherin.blogspot.com