Thanks, Mom

Being home-schooled never seemed weird to me. I know it seemed (seems?) weird to a lot of other people, but it felt perfectly normal to me and my sisters. Most of our friends were home-schooled and all of our classes (until sophomore year of high school) were at "home" (meaning either our home or another family's or a church/location we rented out). It seemed normal to us! Each year, our family re-evaluated our commitment and considered all our options. Each year, it only became more obvious that we should continue on.

It's funny how many times I felt deep in my heart that I hated my mom throughout those years. I mean, really really hated her, I am ashamed to say! But I never had the opportunity to walk away. I never had a group at school to go to confide in about her. ALL of my friends deeply respected their parents (as did I...it's just that aforementioned flesh raring it's uglier than life head) so there was never a time to speak poorly of them. We all trusted our
parents and knew that God placed them in our lives for a holy reason. We never spoke of this respect--it just was how we lived. I didn't realize then, but this WAS rather strange. I didn't know it was strange--I didn't know any different.

I know some worry about home-schooling--especially about isolation, or over-protection. Others encourage their young ones to be the light in the dark world. I totally understand.

But for me and my sisters (and majority of our friends) it was a unique time in our life when our parents, orchestrated by the Lord, took time to lay a foundation in our hearts. We meet a lot of people who say (and mean very well), "You don't seem like a home-schooler." I think they're expecting a nerdy prodigy who has no ability to relate to the world or others. And there are kids like that--in public school AND in home-schooling.

But looking back, Rory and I both are almost emotional thinking about the covering our parents placed over us as we grew and matured. Our ability to relate to the world or save the world was irrelevant. Our parents' sole focus was on covering us, preparing us and loving us. It was such a special, special time where we got to be us. We got to figure life out. We got to explore and learn and talk it out--all with our parents an arm's length away. They talked things out with us. Shared their mistakes. Bore with us as we made ours. In the meantime, we were also able to excel academically. I mean, think about it. Learn in a room of 20 others, or learn directly from the teacher one-on-one? It's simple math--anyone (even and maybe especially if you had learning disabilities) would be able to finish more faster this way.

But it's not the schooling that touches my heart. Sure I have accolades and academic accomplishments. But it's the time my parents took to cover us and protect us and teach us that overwhelms me. I was never a bother. I was never an after-thought. My sisters and I were our mother's focus. What an amazing way to demonstrate self-less love and endless security (especially to a young girl going through puberty and beyond!). Looking back now, I didn't realize how much I really needed my mom.

I came across a blog today called "emotional PURITY." I don't know if she was home-schooled or if she home-schools her little ones, but reading this I was stunned by her ability to be relevant and yet so separated from the world's thinking. It was a clear shot into how truly different Rory and my childhood/adolescence was. And it's really quite beautiful!

Growing up, my friends didn't listen to much music--unless it was Christian or swing (old time jazz). We didn't date. We didn't swear. We didn't know much about MTV. And I remember at our high school graduation the speaker declared us a generation set apart for such a time as this. I was inspired by this and see now how truly set apart we were/are.

I know home-schooling is not for everyone and I am so grateful to live in a country of options. But if home-schooling is/was/will be right for you, what a privilege to invest yourself into everyday of your child's life. To show them daily by your example that there is a way other than the world's. We were exposed to so much through home-schooling--and not teenagers making out or cigarettes or even music videos. We were exposed to purity (we went at least annually to hear Josh Harris talk about kissing dating goodbye), to Godly history (Little Bear Wheeler anyone?), family time (yes, siblings were highly valued and taught to be an asset in developing our own Christ-like ways at home), and so much more. It wasn't a way to keep us from the world or even criticize the world. It was a way to set our eyes and hearts on Him. We were so focused on learning more about Him and His ways that we didn't have much time to look at the worldliness around us. But now as adults, it sure does come fairly easy to discern His ways from the world's.

Looking back, I am so grateful for my parent's active protection and participation in my life. I NEEDED it. Some kids are good to go. I think I needed special attention. Really I do. I would have done fine in public school. But I don't know that I would have known to reserve my first kiss. I don't know that I would have known that my heart was uniquely for my future husband. I don't know that I would have known that short-shorts are not appropriate. I am a perfectionist and for me it was (is?) very important to fit in. I am so glad my parents had the foresight to surround me with people to whom character and Godly ambition were the status quo.

For us at least, if emotional purity, modest dress, Christian music, intelligent dialogue, respect for parents and peers, and having your first kiss on your wedding day is "weird," then bring it on. I don't want to be normal! But in our very unique childhood/adolescence this was the NORM. How cool is that?!

I know many Christians who were not home-schooled who did live this way. And I also know home-schoolers who did not. It wasn't the schooling necessarily. It was my parents' willingness to lay it all down and seek Him for us. It was an example of Christ-likeness that rubbed against me everyday, all day. I often hated it. I now feel like crying in gratitude for it.

Thanks, Mom.