no pressure: how we homeschool deep & wide

Vin was describing liverwurst to our kids, who have never had it.

“It’s like pâté,” he said, “but different. More like the consistency of…umm…uh…”

“Cat food,” I said, being helpful.

Hummus,” he said, ignoring me.

In spite of his correction and our kids’ tendency toward fearlessness in the kitchen, no one has begged yet to try making it. Shocking, I know.

no pressure: how we homeschool deep and wide

Maybe they’d be more enthusiastic if I had kept my snark to myself. In fact, I know they would – these kids are fearless in the kitchen and love to cook; with a little enthusiasm, they might master liverwurst to the point of converting me, even.

(Maybe that’s the danger. Maybe I’m afraid of being converted, so I let my fear dampen the fire of their enthusiasm. Mea culpa.)

As a homeschool mom, I’ve seen the damage a negative attitude can do. It only takes one older, grumpy kid to complain about math in front of a bright-eyed young sibling, and those bright eyes narrow, and droop, and look scornfully at their page of arithmetic practice, too.  It takes one bigger kid to say something like, “I hate history” (or whatever) and it plants a weed instead of a seed in the hearts of the younger ones watching.

And this is a time to be planting seeds, and also reaping a harvest. This is a time to be pulling weeds, not planting them.

Three of our kids have been baking and cooking for years now, and it’s made me positively lazy in the cooking department. It started from necessity when life went upside down and my hands were full with special needs (and then babies and toddlers again). And they were happy – thrilled even, usually – to fend for themselves and learn to make things.

Scrambled eggs. Quesadillas. Mashed potatoes. Muffins, as long as they promised to clean the tins.

They’ve gone from pretend menus and daydreams of owning a restaurant to making perfectly flaky biscuits and a killing on biscotti sales. They read cookbooks for fun and will try cooking whatever we’ll let them, and of course they prefer sweets to savories. They have a mercenary disregard for anyone with sensitivities to gluten and sugar – as I type this, there’s an apple pie on the counter that I absolutely should not even touch.

But will I touch it? HECK YES.

Afton has taken up curing his own bacon, and making cheese, and if he keeps it up he will pay off his own house before we do. He’s on his second year of making it part of his school curriculum, and this year it’s officially culinary arts.

Vince and I don’t get a ton of credit for it. It was necessity, plus encouragement, plus environment – we provided plenty of cookbooks, videos, and opportunity. They’ve done the rest.

And if this isn’t a picture of homeschool, I don’t know what is.

It’s our 16th year of homeschooling, but as I watch the influx of new homeschoolers and answer all the messages in my inbox, I know many of them – maybe you’re one of them – were driven to it by necessity, just like my kids were to cooking, at first. My deepest prayer for you in this season is that you would not succumb to the pressure to get everything right, right now.

If this is you – you, new to this, or you, picking it up again for another try because the alternative is, ahem, unsavory – hear me now: I know it feels like there’s so much pressure. Depending on your situation, there are a ton of deadlines and paperwork and decisions to make.

But the pressure is off. No pressure. Just say no to the pressure.

You don’t have to figure everything out right now. You don’t need to discover each of your kids’ giftings and interests and love languages and enneagram numbers and learning styles and math curricula and science programs RIGHT NOW.

Whew. Exhale. Deep breath.

You just need to spend time with them, and give them encouragement, resources, and opportunity. (And also, enthusiasm helps. You should try this kid’s baguette.)

But wait – can kids really get an education by hanging out with their parents? Even parents who (cough) barely remember long division and certainly don’t want to touch algebra?

I’ll say it again: HECK YES.

We have so many resources right now. We have videos and books, and tutorials. And we can hang out with our kids, with those books, with those videos, with conversation, with food, doing one thing at a time.

Some of those other things aren’t as important as they seem. Many of them will take care of themselves, becoming evident as you go.

Will it still be hard? No jive: Yep, it will. But just get going. Start with what you love, and then add the other stuff in. Ignore the pressure from people who tell you that liverwurst is like cat food when you want your kids to love it like hummus.

We won’t get everything right. Every year, often multiple times a year, we have to tweak and shift things: naptime, chore routines, math programs. History books that seem great but end up dry as dust. Handwriting books that don’t click with our lefty (or righty). Forensics books that are more crass than necessary.

But this is the beauty of doing it from home. We can shift. We get to change things if we want to.

It doesn’t mean you got it wrong. It means you’re figuring it out and getting it right.

Everything that a person learns becomes a part of himself, and as his character is formed, he recognizes that he is made up of those experiences he has had, the people he has met, the books he has read, and the things that he has thought. This is not a process that ends with a semester, or a graduation, but goes on and on as long as we are alive and learning.

Karen Glass, Consider This

The beautiful thing about approaching life as an opportunity to learn (read: this is what most of mean by “homeschool”) is that that life creates its own curriculum. You start to notice themes in what you read, and see, and hear.

Your science book starts to bring depth to that character you’re reading about in a novel, which touches on something you saw in the history lesson from last week. One subject blends into the others, because life is not categorized into evenly distributed slots to be analyzed and graded.

Because homeschool is not simply doing school at home and checking off the charts and lists. It can be that, but that’s like going to the most expensive restaurant in town and ordering plain toast.

Homeschool is the opportunity to make the school serve the home, instead of the other way around.

Homeschool is the ability to flex when it comes to routines, schedules, and requirements. (And special needs. And naptimes. And vacations. And sickness.)

Homeschool is the freedom to lean deep and wide into those giftings and interests, and see how far they can go.

My kiddo who’s doing culinary arts is learning a little about business math, and customer service, and sanitation. He’s brushing up on his division, fractions, and percents as he figures out how much to charge for baked goods after he’s added up the cost of ingredients. And last week, when we watched an 18-minute video of Julia Child highlights, he learned a little about wine, a little about French, and how many different things you can throw on the floor of a studio set.

So far he hasn’t practiced that yet.

But maybe he’ll start with liverwurst.

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come together

I was in the Old Testament, on the couch, and almost in a coma. Or, pretend we’re playing Clue: It was Mrs. Guerra, in the library, with the book of Leviticus. Out cold.

I had read this paragraph four times and still had no idea what it was about. One of those big, vague sounding words was repeated throughout it, and my eyes just glazed right over.

come together: how the church leads the culture

It was this one: Convocation.

So I finally looked it up, and the first entry was one of those super helpful ones that said “the act of convoking.”

Huh. Thanks a lot. If I knew what convoking was, I wouldn’t need you, Google.

Scrolling a little further, I found something better: “An assembly of persons called together for a meeting.” That made more sense. And for bonus points, it said it’s from the Latin word “convocare” which means to call or come together.

Like so:

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, “Speak to the people of Israel and say to them, These are the appointed feasts of the Lord that you shall proclaim as holy convocations; they are my appointed feasts.

– Leviticus 23:1-2, ESV

I ran this all by Vin, who was next to me on the couch reading about the Free Burma Rangers in Mosul. He, too, was doing research.

“So, it’s an Entmoot,” he summarized.

Exactly. They could’ve just said that in the first place. (Take note, Google.)

Formally, a convocation is a special thing – a ceremony, or some event of special recognition. In my church (and maybe yours) we don’t hear this word hardly ever. But informally, in practice, we do it every week. Sometimes several times a week.

We come together.

Unless, suddenly, we’re told not to.

And at first, okay, that seemed like a good idea – let’s step back and see what this pandemic is really about, while the Powers That Be get things figured out.

But we’re past that. This is months later, when the Powers That Be have manipulated data and shown that this is no longer about a pandemic – pandemics, of course, not generally having a 99.99 survival rate and being less of a threat than the seasonal flu.

No, this is not about a pandemic. This is about a test. Some places are passing it, and others are failing.

I said this before on social media, but for the record I’ll put it here on my own site.

With my mom voice, and all my love:

The Church needs to stop letting the government and media lead the culture in fear, and step up to take its place to lead the culture in victory.

We don’t follow the culture, we follow Jesus. He’s the one calling the shots.

We lead the culture, not the other way around. If we do not take responsibility for our calling, others will be (and have been) happy to step in and take it for us.

History belongs to those who pray. Victory belongs to the bold who obey.

We do not take our cues from the culture — we are meant to take a stand. We are the light on a hill. We need to act like it.

I’ve heard Christians condemn other Christians for calling this “persecution” – because if you compare this to what they call “real” persecution experienced all over the world, like what the Free Burma Rangers see, it doesn’t even come close.

And, okay. That’s true.

But what is also true is that in many places, this is how that started.

What do you think comes after prohibitive restrictions on gatherings, worship, and other church activity? If we don’t know history, we are condemned to repeat it.

Pretty early on, a church in California was threatened with jail time for holding services. Read it here. These threats have nothing to do with health, they are completely about intimidation – and they are absolutely illegal and unconstitutional.

And if that reminds you of someone else who likes to use powerless intimidation to see what he can get away with, that’s no coincidence.

Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

– Revelation 12:7-9

[Jesus] disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.

– Colossians 2:15

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.

– 1 Peter 5:8-9

The churches who are leading will prioritize their mission over government mandates. We do not ask permission to meet. A quick read through the US Constitution – and it’s less than 20 pages, so there’s no excuse to not know it – will show you that we have every right to come together.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

– The First Amendment in the US Constitution

The Church leads by meeting. Not by going with the flow, waiting for the next mandate, and then creating alternative ways to congregate without rocking the boat. The Church leads by following Jesus, not by following the government.

 When the large crowd of the Jews learned that Jesus was there, they came, not only on account of him but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus.

– John 12:9-11

That’s the kind of an impact we should have. Our life and vitality should be a threat to those who want to suppress the Kingdom, and an attraction to those who want to be a part of it. That’s how we lead a culture toward healing and redemption.

But others are still waiting for permission, instead of following their commission.

Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.

– John 12:42-43

And this is the real test: We can lead by following Jesus and coming together, or we can pretend to lead by following dictates and waiting for the next shoe to drop.

We can lead by doing our research and standing firm, or we can keep thinking Oh, this isn’t real persecution, while forgetting that the difference between this and what the Free Burma Rangers are seeing is only a matter of a few more steps.

Don’t believe me? Look at Portland. Look at other big cities. Look at Kenosha, Wisconsin.

This isn’t about a pandemic, but most of you already know that. This is about a culture at war – greatly because it’s also about a Church who has, in many places, capitulated.

But this is still the time for holy convocation. For an Entmoot. For gathering, and connecting, and praying, and teaching. For learning and growing and sharing.

And when the Church does that, it impacts the government, and the nation, and culture at large. And that is how it should go – not the other way around.

on repeat: the power of your mundane offerings

If you’re super spiritual, you should just skip this post. I mean, if you read commentaries and offerings and begats for fun, and you have whole sections of the Pentateuch memorized, this probably isn’t for you. It’s for the rest of us.

on repeat: the power of your mundane offerings

If you had to look up the word “Pentateuch,” though, you’re in the right spot.

(Okay, is it safe yet? Because I’m getting ready to confess something. Deep breath.)

If you have ever read Numbers in the Old Testament, you know it can be a little…

Um…well…(cough)

Kinda boring. Right? A little repetitive.

Okay, a lot repetitive.

I’ve been reading chapters six and seven, and here’s what it says – just one very short example:

On the second day Nethanel the son of Zuar, the chief of Issachar, made an offering. He offered for his offering one silver plate whose weight was 130 shekels, one silver basin of 70 shekels, according to the shekel of the sanctuary, both of them full of fine flour mixed with oil for a grain offering; one golden dish of 10 shekels, full of incense; one bull from the herd, one ram, one male lamb a year old, for a burnt offering; one male goat for a sin offering; and for the sacrifice of peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five male goats, and five male lambs a year old. This was the offering of Nethanel the son of Zuar.

– Number 7:18-23, ESV

FASCINATING.

No? What, you skimmed? You don’t want to hear all about the offerings? And you don’t want to hear them repeated verbatim twelve times (with the exception of different names of tribes, chiefs, and their fathers)?

Me neither. But here’s the deal: I was praying about it, and the Word never says “Blah, blah, blah” (you’ve heard me say that in Oh My Soul before) so I asked the Lord, Why do all the mundane details matter? Why are there so many of them in the Word and in our lives?

We do all these tasks that are never finished: the dishes, laundry, making the beds, teaching the kids, commuting to work. We repeat and repeat and repeat, and life is still full of them, never done.

And here’s what the Lord told me:

As you’re reading these mundane details, you are posturing yourself to hear Me. You are postured for Me to move in all these small things. You are postured to do a productive work even though you are “only” doing all those tiny, repetitive actions that don’t seem to go anywhere.

They are obedient to My calling for you, so they are going somewhere.

They are your offering.

And in the spirit of repetition, He keeps reminding me of it as I read parts of the Bible that are sticky, and as I deal with details in life that are sticky, too.

Repetition doesn’t have to equal boring and mundane. Sometimes we choose repetitive acts because they are relaxing and they help us focus on what is important – like taking communion or praying before meals, or going for a walk, or finding work for our hands so our minds can think clearly.

Earlier this year I started knitting again while I read. The movement helps me focus and it’s therapeutic for my hands. And as I’m getting ready to change colors, I’m right here:

Aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you.
– 1 Thessalonians 4:11, ESV

If you don’t know, knitting tends to be slow work. You repeat and repeat and repeat – especially in garter stitch, especially when you’re using the same color, row after row after row.

But it produces something.

Just like pages read, prayers prayed, and Scripture spoken: They all do something.

They produce results. They create and refine things…and us.

But sometimes it takes a while to see that progress – which is all the more reason to start today.

When we start a project, whether it’s knitting, writing, building, reading, painting, teaching, or any other creative endeavor, we are working toward something we cannot see.

Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You’d find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion.

– Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

The woman weeding the garden, the neighbor changing the oil, the friend delivering dinner.

The officer driving, the receptionist answering the phone, the doctor prescribing a treatment.

The dad bathing the preschooler, the mom teaching the kid on the couch how to read.

A million steps of creative, mundane, prayerful, powerful faithfulness: lives lived in quiet, repetitive offering, standing for freedom and redeeming the culture.

We aren’t disgusted or despairing because the blanket isn’t complete yet after only a few rows of stitches. We know it’s a process. We see the unseen, and we work toward it.

And this is how prayer works, too.

If you are praying for some big situation or discouraged over huge current events — remember, we partner with God to work toward things that are unseen, and they change.

So we read books. We speak Scripture. We write words. We move in faithful obedience.

We are going somewhere as we obey Him in all these small things. And that includes reading the Bible – and not skipping the sticky parts, because He speaks to us in those, too.

We pray from victory, and we pray toward victory. And it works.

We make all these little stitches, and we know they make the Kingdom come. Pretty soon, we’ll see the colors start to change.

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