Are You Awake Like This Lady?

Homeschooler challenging The Leaning Tower of ...I have permission to use a recent inspiring fb post from a brand new homeschooling mom, here. She’s asked that I change her name, and I am happy to provide her that security because I am so happy to share this sweet content with my readers!

See if you haven’t felt this way before:

I just had a moment, a very weird, sort of life changing moment.

I can’t think of anyone who would understand this moment better than you, my fellow homeschoolers.

Everything in my brain just sort of changed. I keep saying, “I’m homeschooling,” and, “I’m homeschooling because (insert many reasons here.)”

But as much as I’ve been saying it, I haven’t really believed it.

I’m not sure that even makes sense?

We’ve been schooling now for two weeks. It’s been different and it’s been somewhat difficult to adjust to, coming out of public school.

Just now, for no real reason at all, everything just clicked and I realized: “Holy cow—we are actually doing this.”

We are not talking about it anymore. We are not planning it anymore.

We are actually doing it, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of such intense purpose I can hardly stand it.

I suddenly understand my role as a mother. I have this mission, this purpose with my children that I’ve never really felt before. I’m not just feeding them, or cleaning up after them. I’m training them, and I’m serving God in doing so.

I can’t even explain how full my heart is right now.

It’s not to say that I didn’t feel like a good mother before, but I can see a purpose to my motherhood, a purpose for our family. I don’t have anybody telling me my purpose or theirs.

The only guidelines I have for my family are God’s.

Nobody is telling me what my five-year-old should be doing, or how my eleven-year-old should be thinking or behaving. Nobody is calling me to tell me my seven-year-old son needs special help with his learning disabilities. Nobody is showing me what I’m doing wrong.

I never realized how rare that is.

All I have are six little children telling me how much they love me. I have a seven-year-old son who isn’t worried about his dyslexia; instead, he’s outside at 10 p.m., playing ninjas in the dark with his sister in the yard—FREEDOM!!!

I know that every moment won’t be as inspiring as this moment I’m having right here, right now, but it’s nice to know that every moment has the potential to be. –Anne Barker

Did you love that or what? I wish I’d been so wise! I merely knew my kids needed to escape–needed rescuing–but this woman has a clear view of all her family is gaining. Blessings on you, Anne Barker, in your new endeavors, and thanks, so much, for so eloquently letting us see into the heart of your wisdom!


(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Have You Ever Read Anything So Beautiful?


Chores (Photo credit: ShardsOfBlue)

This week my husband walks in the door after a long day at work to find: dishes piled in the sink, laundry all over the living room, the beef for dinner still in a frozen block, and me…looking like Frump Queen. He is gracious. And tells me to take a nap. I instantly obey. (Inwardly rejoicing.) And while I am sleeping for 45 minutes, he manages to clean the whole house…while watching our daughter. (A feat I clearly was incapable of accomplishing today. Many days.)

Ladies, read the rest, here!

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Smarter than a Worm? Let’s hope.

Our house caught fire, once.

English: Photo of the Americium container in a...

English: Photo of the Americium container in a smoke detector (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At four a.m., the Sunday before Thanksgiving, the smoke alarm sounded. I had trouble believing the smoke alarm chose that moment to malfunction. I woke my husband and we debated what the noise was.

He asked me if I had a turkey in the oven.

We could find no flames, but, sure enough, the smoke hung thick in the hallway. As my husband rushed to find the source, I rushed to get our teens out.

I found them, fully awake, but not escaping, on the balcony over the foyer.

I gave them our car keys and (probably somewhat agitatedly) ORDERED them to get out, move the car away, and stay in it.

Later questioning revealed: The heavy sleeper had not even heard the alarm. The easily-irritated one had resented the sleep intrusion, pulled the pillow over his head, and grumbled. By the time I discovered them, they had only just reached that landing, saw me, and were waiting for instructions.

We require engraved invitations, sometimes, don’t we? What about you?

Do you have trouble believing the time for escape could come right now, that it could be happening to you, or that the alarm is really sounding?

Maybe you know it’s the alarm, but think it’s because of a minor, fixable glitch?

Are you a heavy sleeper and have trouble hearing the alarm in your sleep?

Does the alarm disrupt your agenda and make you resent it?

Earthworms simply scamper to safety.

It is the alarm.

It is real.

It is now.

It sounds because a major problem is doing irreparable harm.

Wake up, O sleeper!

Change your agenda and accept this excellent chance to escape, before it is too late.

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