School of Grace

So we’re in a new season over at the Price place, and instead of embracing the change as I would love to, I’ve been bemoaning what sometimes seems a huge loss. See, we decided last Spring that we would take over management of the education of our children. I began researching different schooling methods and approaches to home learning lessons, so that I could un-school the kids in order to capture their hearts and begin filling their minds with wholesome literature, promises, virtues and knowing them better than a class room teacher ever could, approach their learning of the classic subjects in ways that would be tailored to their own styles of grasping and retention.

No small feat, but being the romantic I am and having taught for eight years, I just knew that this would be a panacea for all things that had spiraled out of control in our family.

Perfect, I thought.

Crazy, I discovered.

And in this discovery of craziness, I have come to know and expect that we will have a good day, followed by a bad day, a great day, followed by a horrible day and then a pretty good day. Even though, in the four weeks we’ve been schooling I’ve noticed this trend, those bad days shock me every time and really get me down.

Today started as a bad day. I slept in, and for a former teacher and a bit of a time warden (ok, a HUGE time warden) this can throw me for a loop. Lucas had a bad attitude. Bethany was talking with a baby voice. Nicholas only wanted toast with nutella instead of the eggs that the toast was merely a compliment to. Mary Elena woke up early. My hands were full, my own attitude which should set the tone for the day was plummeting. But when I looked out the window I noticed it was overcast.

I love the Fall. I love the rain. The former is redefined by living in Southern California. The latter rarely happens where we live. So to have a taste of both on this September morning was like a breath of fresh air.

God knows me so well. And God, in His sovereignty can redeem anything.  ANYTHING.

He redeemed my attitude, which enabled me to let the toast thing roll off my shoulders. Allowed me to speak with soft words to the boy with the ‘tude and draw his sweetness out. Helped me remember that the older girl is only five, and sometimes it’s okay to let her be my baby girl again. Made it possible for me to cuddle my Mary-girl while helping with Math.

Because He is the Redeemer, I can look on the fact that I’m still in my pajamas as a blessing of comfort on this dreary day, instead of a side effect of being an overworked stay-at-home mom. And just like that, without me even asking or expecting it, He redeems my perspective.

The romantic notions are only somewhat mangled. They are just different.

This home stuff isn’t easy. I will not always get it right. The “it” may not always meet my lofty expectations, but it was no accident I felt prompted to call this experiment School of Grace. Instead of learning from their mistakes by being reprimanded, they are learning that there are no wrong answers, just moments to learn by. ¬†Instead of punishing them for wrong behavior, I am creating space for them to learn right behavior.

When I, one of them, or all of us have a bad attitude and say hurtful things, they are learning about regret, repentance, humility and grace as I lead by example. I cannot hold my high expectations over them when so often I get it so wrong. First time obedience is not what the Lord has expected of me. His grace is much greater than that, and through the leading, teaching and molding of these little lives, He is leading, teaching and molding this bigger life that still has so much to learn.

I am so grateful for the promise that I wear around my neck along with the names of my precious children. The promise that encapsulates his redeeming grace in my own life and in this experiment. The promise that reminds me of His gentle way with me, so that I can be gentle with them.

“He gently leads those that have their young.”

Isaiah 40:11

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