Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
The Challenge of Church
This morning it felt like I was awake before the rest of the world. And as God and I were together, he reminded me that I wanted to write this post. Reminded me I had a story to tell. A journey to share. And all day he's been reminding me to write.
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
Switchfoot....Seriously.
Were you one of those teenagers who had posters of famous actors/musicians/bands stuck up all over your walls?
Me, I think the pastors in my life had all read the books about drugs, sex and rock 'n'roll, so there was no way I was going to have any "ídols" on the walls in my room! And so this is where my ignorance about famous actors and musicians springs from - to the extent that now I am still absolutely clueless about who is in what, who sings what, or even the names of songs etc. Clueless. Head in the sand type thing. Yes I can get away with big bands and epic number 1 hits of all time, but any more than that and it's laughable! Now, hold that thought whilst I remind you I'm married to man whose calling it is to take the world of media by storm, to write and direct stories of character; who follows every movie as it is released, who is passionate about edifying lyrics and songs that grow the soul, and can answer almost any trivia question on cinematography.... and now... chuckle! Seriously. Poor man!
Roll on Braveheart's birthday this year (three days after Belle's!), and two dear friends who gave him a ticket to see this band:
You can well imagine how the conversation went in the car on the way there, and even as we were finding our seats.
Me: What do they sing again? Oh really? How does it go? Can you hum it? etc etc.
Now let me tell you something else. I have in my life - apparently been to 2 concerts before this one. I say two, because one I don't remember at all much to Braveheart's amusement (it was right in the early days of moving to Cape Town, and possibly everything was just so overwhelming I cannot place it..or it was just nothing to write home about...go figure), and the other was the U2 one last year. And I was bitterly disappointed. Perhaps our tickets (the cheapest ones - which were still "gasp" expensive!) meant we sat right at the top of the stadium, and the sound was terrible: I couldn't hear any of their words and it was so loud it was awful...(I may also be getting too old!). But that's me. So there was a certain amount of apprehension on my part as I sat down and started to absorb the first opening act.
And then God started. As I watched the first opening act, a children's choir singing out their hearts, slightly off pitch and in places a little jarring, God began speaking. Caressing my heart. It's been so significant for me that this concert coincides with meeting a few new people in the last few days who have each asked us about "where we fellowship". And it's got me thinking a whole lot about church (enough for a separate post to come). But sitting there, listening to the beautiful unpretentious faith of these young boys and girls, it made me remember how sweet the sound of worship is. How stunning it is when God's people come together and sing. And there is something holy about music, something sacred. It is music that undoes us, music that entices us, music that can soothe us. And music belongs to God. I sat there, covered in goosebumps, in the hands of the Spirit.
Then, Switchfoot came on, and as the concert unfolded, seeing this band in the flesh made me able to make a connection to the songs I've heard Braveheart play for years. The concert was incredible. It was unlike anything I've ever been to before (ahem, those two concerts and all the churches I've been in). It honestly felt more like an authentic representation of what church should be like in today's world - it was Christianity at its most real, without any mask of religiosity. Here were men who love God and who clearly know him, living their lives without being boxed in by modern Christian dogma, and it was exhilarating for my spirit. In fact, writing this make my spirit actually hurt in my chest. It. was. so. real.
And as per my nature, I came home to google this band that I hadn't really paid that much attention to, and having seen them, watched them - being at that concert felt 'intimate' in a sense. As though you were on holy ground. I can't quite put my finger on it. The lead singer, Jon Foreman, was absolutely free to be with the audience, and moved right through us, singing and touching people's hands...there was something so beautifully down to earth about him. I've loved some of the things that have been written about him, and that he's written, and I'd love to share them with you...and I've also included some links to their songs. Please do find the time to listen to them - the lyrics are so profound...it's like drinking food for thought!
According to Jon Foreman, the name "Switchfoot" is a surfing term. "We all love to surf and have been surfing all our lives so to us, the name made sense. To switch your feet means to take a new stance facing the opposite direction. It's about change and movement, a different way of approaching life and music." Switchfoot has struggled with being labelled as a Christian band, and I loved what he had to say in response to that, "For us, it's a faith, not a genre," says Jon Foreman. "We've always been very open and honest about where the songs are coming from. For us, these songs are for everyone. Calling us 'Christian rock' tends to be a box that closes some people out and excludes them, and that's not what we're trying to do. Music has always opened my mind—and that's what we want" (source: Wikipedia)
The Huffington Post picked up Jon Foreman's blog ( do click on over, it's well worth reading it all) and these two paragraphs blew me away:
There is no way out. We were born into the fight. Every noble pursuit will cost you: justice, wisdom, strength, marriage, children -- you will pay for these with your breath, your tears, your blood, even your life. We're all in this together -- fighting to make sense of the madness, to make our lives count. All of us are on a journey of desire. Longing, yearning, hoping, dreaming for a better day. But these dreams of ours are held in tension by the obstacles between where we are and where we hope to be. We are suspended in mid-air like a still life, a photograph. Frame by frame, we live our lives, forever stuck in the ether of the frozen now. Frame by frame we are frozen in the present between yesterday and tomorrow. Frame by frame we step forward towards the infinite unknown that only tomorrow can bring.
Recently, my friends and I recorded an album about the the struggle that we call life. We wanted a record that would speak to the polarity of our existence, the darkness and the light, the despair and the hope along the way. These vices of ours, we wanted to make 'em sing. We wanted to make a musical world that was held in tension by the poles of darkness and light. Maybe my songs have always come from the tension, the things that terrify me, the things that stretch me thin and keep me up at night. As much as I want to run away from these things, I can't. The strings of our hearts were not made for safety. No, these strings are made to dance. I cannot to hold the temporal too closely for the final freedom I long for was never hers to give. Safety cannot be found in the transients. I struggle to look beyond all of this. The transcendent alone can give meaning to the tension, purpose to the release. So I give up hoping for safety. I've given up hoping in the overstuffed pockets of the powerful and well fed. I've given up hope that I could ever buy what I truly need. Indeed if the world knows no justice, we're better off staying maladjusted. Stretched thin.
The Huffington Post has a list of all his blog posts they've featured - go on over, it's such food for thought!
May God do something in you as you listen to just some of these:
"Dare you to Move"
Learning to Breathe
This is Your Life, Your Love is a Song, "The Shadow Proves The Sunshine" (inspired by CS Lewis), Meant to Live....
And really, I could go on. Just get your hands on some of this music. Seriously!
Resolutions...
I love the beginning of a year.
I love how it feels to me that overnight I have been given a clean slate, an opportunity to start afresh.
To start anew.
It's like that first day of school (when I went as a child!): sharpening all my pencils, organizing my bag, the smell of new books...
And this year, I am excited.
I am GLAD to be welcoming in a new year.
I am looking forward....
and that is a wonderful, wonderful feeling!
And one resolution is uppermost in my mind.
To tame my dragon.
In me resides a dragon, that comes to the fore whenever I am hard pressed by my own children (why is it that it is our own children with whom our patience can waiver so thin sometimes?).
It is the dragon of Harsh Tone.
And it pains me to see the affect my tone can have on my precious charges.
And so this year, I am undertaking, to slay this dragon.
This is going to be the year ... I am resolved.
And yet, in reading this timely post, I was reminded:
I can recognize the fear that grips her heart, because I too wonder the same...
"Fear that I am impotent of change, that new ways can’t be my ways. What if I will always be this way… (fill in the blank with fear of personal choice: self-centered, overweight, uneducated, unmotivated, debt-ridden, angry, anxious, apathetic, unfulfilled…)"
I love how it feels to me that overnight I have been given a clean slate, an opportunity to start afresh.
To start anew.
It's like that first day of school (when I went as a child!): sharpening all my pencils, organizing my bag, the smell of new books...
And this year, I am excited.
I am GLAD to be welcoming in a new year.
I am looking forward....
and that is a wonderful, wonderful feeling!
And one resolution is uppermost in my mind.
To tame my dragon.
In me resides a dragon, that comes to the fore whenever I am hard pressed by my own children (why is it that it is our own children with whom our patience can waiver so thin sometimes?).
It is the dragon of Harsh Tone.
And it pains me to see the affect my tone can have on my precious charges.
And so this year, I am undertaking, to slay this dragon.
This is going to be the year ... I am resolved.
And yet, in reading this timely post, I was reminded:
- trying harder only results in harder trials
- to forge new tracks across this year will needs more than simply sheer effort, gritty determination.
I can recognize the fear that grips her heart, because I too wonder the same...
"Fear that I am impotent of change, that new ways can’t be my ways. What if I will always be this way… (fill in the blank with fear of personal choice: self-centered, overweight, uneducated, unmotivated, debt-ridden, angry, anxious, apathetic, unfulfilled…)"
But here is the sheer beauty, the gift of grace...
Impossible resolutions require God solutions.
And so daily, I need to fall upon Christ, and in him and through him, slay this dragon once and for all.
Cross on over here to read her 5 suggestions for making resolutions that stick....I love them...such wisdom as I set out on this challenge....
may your resolutions be birthed in Him this year....
A Joyful Journey
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| Aragorn, precious 5 year old today! |
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| nothing quite like doing school on the trampoline! |
Coming from Zimbabwe, South Africa had surprised us with a culture shock even though both Braveheart and I had studied here, and we had spent many holidays here too. From the beginning of living here as parents, I noticed subtle differences in our cultures. Initially we lived in Plumstead, but it seemed that the further into the deep south of Cape Town we went, the more family orientated, the more rural, the more it felt like Zimbabwe to us (no offence to any Capetownians – these were my honest impressions in those early days!). And so after returning from South Korea for the second time, we moved to the southern peninsula of Cape Town.
WE loved how free it felt...and really felt God impress on us how much he had called us to a life of freedom, a life outside the systems of the world and its ways. It's actually surprisingly hard to articulate that lucidly. At the time, it was the most natural journey in the world. And slowly, God began to speak to me about my children and their education. At the time King Arthur was almost two.
I knew so little about homeschooling, I did what I love to do – started researching. Now what you may not know is that I am actually a high school English and Geography teacher. Teaching is something I wanted to do from the time I was 6 years old – my poor younger brother was subjected to endless games of school when we were young! I taught my heart out in Zim, and loved every minute of it, even the marking! Teenagers make me come alive, and I LOVED it.
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| Belle pretending to do Math |
But here I was, spending hours initially following leads people gave me of people they knew who homeschooled. I would phone them up, out of the blue, and ask them some very strange questions! The more I read, the more deeply I examined the pros and cons, the more I felt swayed. Braveheart and I are brilliant communicators, and as I read and researched, we spent hours chatting. Once we eventually had internet (yes it took a while to get it!), I devoured everything I could find. I found out about the Homeschool Kitchen Table e-loop, and posted an honest question on it – asking what homeschooling really looked like and had an amazing response from veteran homeschool moms, who shared the inner working of their days with me. One mom offered to meet with me, and that meeting clinched it.
For us, the reason we homeschool is birthed in God. Right from then I knew God wanted it for our family. For me, I knew he was calling me into a season where I had to stand on my own before God, ruthlessly following him and not doing what I had done all my life – follow other people that I admired and respected. No one I knew had ever homeschooled. No, God wanted me to trust and rely on him alone. And he was going to ask me to do the same with our journey into homeschooling.
When King Arthur was 5, I was ready to take him out of nursery school and start homeschooling , when I felt God tell me it was not yet time. That floored me because everything I had read encouraged me to start as soon as I was certain. Again, it was God's way of forcing me to do it his way...leading me into freedom by only looking to him for affirmation. Fast forward another year, and we began!At this point, we homeschool our eldest son, King Arthur, who has been in grade One this year. We seek God for each of our children individually, and for each year. And at this point our youngest children attend two different nursery schools four days a week. Each school was chosen prayerfully at the beginning of the year, and as I've watched them grow this year. I have seen all three of my kids blossom. And as we pray into next year, we're changing schools for Belle, knowing that we are placing her where God wants her. Sometimes I do wonder at God and what he's doing. And other times I can see his wisdom. I've come to realize my limitations, and I know that I do not yet have his grace to homeschool them all at once. And although that is personally freeing, it still takes great courage to be in the middle of two camps – I'm not truly a pure bred homeschooler, neither am I a mainstream mother!
I know this post doesn't really do justice to any of the reasons that first swayed me to follow this path. And I think I know why. I'm at a different point in the journey right now. Had I written this a few years ago, it would have been a school bashing/homeschool praising list. Perhaps a time will some when I’ll examine the finer intricate reasons, but for now...
This journey? It started somewhere in disbelief (what are all these people on about? School is normal!), then absolute acceptance and fundamentalism (homeschooling is the only RIGHT thing to do, therefore all and any school is bad) to now being absolutely convinced that the only way to walk along this journey is to keep your eyes on Christ and follow him – for your family.
Every family is unique, every mother is unique, and I believe God wants unique things from all of us. I truly believe that.
If you have chosen prayerfully to walk along the mainstream school route, may you be blessed. And if you're journeying alongside me, how wonderful! I am loving homeschooling my eldest child, loving my younger two attending nursery school, their wonderful teachers, their happy fun and I am looking forward to continuing on this journey.
It's a journey of wonderful grace.
This post features on the South African Carnival of Homeschool Bloggers where South African home schoolers share experiences, ideas, philosophies and much more. You can join the carnival too by heading to the South African Carnival of Homeschool Bloggers sign up page. In the meantime, head to SACH Carnival #2 - Outings for this week's carnival. We hope you enjoy the carnival as much as we have!
Outside vs Inside
Tonight, I wrote this in my head whilst sitting on Noordhoek beach at sunset.
It was beautiful.
A beautiful tranquil ending to a stunning summer's day.
But that was the outside.
On the inside, I was churning. I was ugly.
Dark and twisted.
Those are the words I've used this week to describe my inner world.
I am having one of THOSE weeks. You know? The ones you think no one else could ever have?
Well, friend, I've got news for you. I know this blog has lovely photos on it. And I share our golden days and special memories, and all the things that give my brain food for thought, and the insights I gleam from God, and my musings on homeschooling. Too often, all of that 'window dressing' can make you think (well, maybe?) that I'm a saint (and if you don't that's great...chuckle)...
But you know what? I'm going to take you into my life and share a piece of the *real world*.
Why?
Because somehow I think as mothers (no, I think it's more as women) we get caught by lies, which can entangle us, ensnaring us ... leaving us all choked up. And we can forget that we are not alone. One of my fond memories a few years ago is meeting with a mom whom I love and respect (in the memory, I have tears streaming down my face and am sobbing), and her describing to me an afternoon where in frustration and anger she threw her kids shoes down the passage after them! My tears turned to laughter (after a wee while), because up until that point I didn't think she could possibly have moments like that in her home. Turns out she did.
Know what?
It's only when we are vulnerable with one another that we get to see that we are not alone.
And so I'm choosing to be vulnerable. Because I want you to know you are not alone.
My dark and twisted moments stem from parenting in a way that I never wanted to - somehow this week I am at loggerheads with all three of my precious children. My constant prayer is that God would not only save my children from me, but save me from myself, and let's face it, that's really not a very nice prayer to be sending up now is it? It always comes back to my tone...this is one Goliath I would really like to slay. And while we're at it, if I had more grace for them I think that would help too.
And it gets worse. O yes. Because this dark and twisted mood is a swirling vortex, pulling anything into it...including poor Braveheart. It is a grand challenge for me to remember that at the end of a day when I am filled with self loathing, that he is not the enemy, and that we are actually on the same team.
So. Somehow I'm hoping that God will work some kind of miracle overnight, or wave a wand like a fairy godmother and tomorrow morning I'll be the sweetest mother (and wife) ever...but I think the reality is that tomorrow is another day I will be falling into his grace and relying on him. Perhaps I'll copy the monks and take a vow of silence...
Here's hoping you know that you're not alone...with love....
It was beautiful.
A beautiful tranquil ending to a stunning summer's day.
But that was the outside.
On the inside, I was churning. I was ugly.
Dark and twisted.
Those are the words I've used this week to describe my inner world.
I am having one of THOSE weeks. You know? The ones you think no one else could ever have?
Well, friend, I've got news for you. I know this blog has lovely photos on it. And I share our golden days and special memories, and all the things that give my brain food for thought, and the insights I gleam from God, and my musings on homeschooling. Too often, all of that 'window dressing' can make you think (well, maybe?) that I'm a saint (and if you don't that's great...chuckle)...
But you know what? I'm going to take you into my life and share a piece of the *real world*.
Why?
Because somehow I think as mothers (no, I think it's more as women) we get caught by lies, which can entangle us, ensnaring us ... leaving us all choked up. And we can forget that we are not alone. One of my fond memories a few years ago is meeting with a mom whom I love and respect (in the memory, I have tears streaming down my face and am sobbing), and her describing to me an afternoon where in frustration and anger she threw her kids shoes down the passage after them! My tears turned to laughter (after a wee while), because up until that point I didn't think she could possibly have moments like that in her home. Turns out she did.
Know what?
It's only when we are vulnerable with one another that we get to see that we are not alone.
And so I'm choosing to be vulnerable. Because I want you to know you are not alone.
My dark and twisted moments stem from parenting in a way that I never wanted to - somehow this week I am at loggerheads with all three of my precious children. My constant prayer is that God would not only save my children from me, but save me from myself, and let's face it, that's really not a very nice prayer to be sending up now is it? It always comes back to my tone...this is one Goliath I would really like to slay. And while we're at it, if I had more grace for them I think that would help too.
And it gets worse. O yes. Because this dark and twisted mood is a swirling vortex, pulling anything into it...including poor Braveheart. It is a grand challenge for me to remember that at the end of a day when I am filled with self loathing, that he is not the enemy, and that we are actually on the same team.
So. Somehow I'm hoping that God will work some kind of miracle overnight, or wave a wand like a fairy godmother and tomorrow morning I'll be the sweetest mother (and wife) ever...but I think the reality is that tomorrow is another day I will be falling into his grace and relying on him. Perhaps I'll copy the monks and take a vow of silence...
Here's hoping you know that you're not alone...with love....
Living in the Present...
Watching the wind blow through her hair, I'm reminded of what a gift this singular moment is.
How like a child she is....
the grin that creases her face,
her eyes that close in wonder,
the joy that radiates from having the wind caress her face.
This truly is the way to embrace the goodness He gives us -
to look, to see, to appreciate the beauty...
Finding my Feet
The last couple of weeks for me have been heart sore ones.
Yet they've been laced with growth, and insight, and deep peace.
A dear, sweet, incredible lady went home.
And in her death, I've realised how much her life bled out for Christ has taught me.
I've learned, as her dad shared at her memorial, that the opinions of people do matter, but that they should never inhibit me....
I've learned that my life looks different to hers, to others. And that there is reason for that.
But this life? This one that God has given me, is mine to live. Mine to grab a hold of by the neck and wring the very essence of it out.
In many ways, my life does not look like I expected it would. That's hard to explain in greater depth. But I've seen the choice I have. I can live with yearning for a life different to mine, or I can accept that God, in his great wisdom, knows what he is doing and why this life he has given to me indeed looks the way it does. This life, is for me and him. This life, the way it looks, is to draw me deeper into a relationship with him that He may be glorified. That's the point.
I am who God created ME to be. And when I really grasp that, and start living it, it is beautifully, wonderfully freeing...
I've seen for the first time that the deep desire of my heart to live the depth and breadth of my life has been honoured by God in giving me this gift of homeschooling my children. It really is a gift. Something that brings me such sweet joy...such delight. This journey of mine on this homescholing path is God's gift to me. O how sweet!
And for me, there is such freedom in that.
May you too, find the gift that is in your life, whatever it may be, and the wonderful freedom that is yours to enjoy...
and here's a lovely link for you, in this beautiful blog, this post about the end of a season, the freedom, the truth that this journey of homeschooling is one to be followed on bended knee...
...join me in praying for Adrian, Hannah and Dan as they continue this journey...
Yet they've been laced with growth, and insight, and deep peace.
A dear, sweet, incredible lady went home.
And in her death, I've realised how much her life bled out for Christ has taught me.
I've learned, as her dad shared at her memorial, that the opinions of people do matter, but that they should never inhibit me....
I've learned that my life looks different to hers, to others. And that there is reason for that.
But this life? This one that God has given me, is mine to live. Mine to grab a hold of by the neck and wring the very essence of it out.
In many ways, my life does not look like I expected it would. That's hard to explain in greater depth. But I've seen the choice I have. I can live with yearning for a life different to mine, or I can accept that God, in his great wisdom, knows what he is doing and why this life he has given to me indeed looks the way it does. This life, is for me and him. This life, the way it looks, is to draw me deeper into a relationship with him that He may be glorified. That's the point.
I am who God created ME to be. And when I really grasp that, and start living it, it is beautifully, wonderfully freeing...
I've seen for the first time that the deep desire of my heart to live the depth and breadth of my life has been honoured by God in giving me this gift of homeschooling my children. It really is a gift. Something that brings me such sweet joy...such delight. This journey of mine on this homescholing path is God's gift to me. O how sweet!
And for me, there is such freedom in that.
May you too, find the gift that is in your life, whatever it may be, and the wonderful freedom that is yours to enjoy...
and here's a lovely link for you, in this beautiful blog, this post about the end of a season, the freedom, the truth that this journey of homeschooling is one to be followed on bended knee...
...join me in praying for Adrian, Hannah and Dan as they continue this journey...
Seeds...
I never really expected these seeds to have such a profound impact on me.
Over the space of a few days, I've been beckoned to these glass jars on the windowsill.
I find myself looking for an excuse to snatch another peek...and then another, and yet another.
This growth?
It's a miracle.
When last did you take the time to watch something grow?
The speed of these seeds amaze me.
The way the hard outer casing cracks open, unfurling a shoot.
How roots have grown downwards seeking out a way in which to anchor the plant born of a desire to find nutrients.
How the seed itself contains all the food this plant needs for its initial growth.
How does the root know to grow downwards?
Or the shoot upwards?
It's been designed.
It's God's gift to me on this sun speckled morning on my windowsill.
And what I want to know, is just how does this seed grow?
It doesn't strive or will itself to grow.
It doesn't think positively or make an effort.
It just naturally does what it was created to do.
The only things this seed needed to germinate was light and water.
And that's got me pondering....
"I am the Light of the world..."
The "water of life"...the "living water"...
To see those seeds grow in my life, perhaps the secret then is being saturated in Him, basking in his light?
Food for thought huh?
Science, Seeds And Soul Gardening...
King Arthur and I have just spent the last week learning about seeds in our Sonlight Core A (K) program. Although all three kids have been drawn into learning, I honestly think I am the one who has learnt the most!
I've loved watching their awe and wonder as they split open swollen beans to find the root and shoot - have you seen the tiny leaves inside, just waiting to unfurl, pregnant with such promise? God's Majesty and his incredible intricate design just blew me away as a lifted up those tiny leaves to show the kids - and although they were interested, they weren't quite as blown away as me!
We read some books on seeds, planted some beans in a jar, planted vegetables in our new veggie garden (woohoo!), went for walk in our neighborhood and collected as many leaves and seeds as we could (and now have to identify them) and then did some art and craft. As a child I had an aunt who could make the most amazing collages using what she had in the kitchen - pasta, seeds, beans etc. So I had this in mind when attempting this - but limited ourselves to only use what actually was a seed. The kids loved this - they even asked to do more!
I can't even begin to tell you how much I have learned this week.
Seeds...they hold such promise.
They have such potential.
God has gently shown me how often the crows of fear and weeds of doubt have robbed me of the seeds of promise, the seeds of hope he has tried to plant there, resulting in barren soil. I have to find a way to hold on to those seeds for longer, to allow them to germinate...
And I've seen God use this topic in the curriculum to speak volumes to Aragorn. For a while now, he has been asking questions about whether aliens are real, or if they live on other planets, which isn't strange in and of itself. But he also started showing a great reluctance to go to the bathroom, and we then pieced together he was afraid of aliens hiding there. Poor thing.
In doing some research before teaching about this topic, I stumbled across this site. What a beautiful idea - learning God's word for kids gives them seeds of courage, of faith, purpose etc. (Got to love how they package it too - you get two identical full length cds when you buy one, with the idea of seed dispersal and giving one away to a friend - love, love LOVE this idea!). At this time, we're not in a position to buy one of these (some tracks are on youtube) but Totally Tots has created a whole lot of printables to go with these cds over here - so I'm going to be doing some soul gardening in the next few days!
May your seeds or promise take root this week!
I've loved watching their awe and wonder as they split open swollen beans to find the root and shoot - have you seen the tiny leaves inside, just waiting to unfurl, pregnant with such promise? God's Majesty and his incredible intricate design just blew me away as a lifted up those tiny leaves to show the kids - and although they were interested, they weren't quite as blown away as me!
 |
| Both boys chose somewhat intricate designs! |
I can't even begin to tell you how much I have learned this week.
Seeds...they hold such promise.
They have such potential.
God has gently shown me how often the crows of fear and weeds of doubt have robbed me of the seeds of promise, the seeds of hope he has tried to plant there, resulting in barren soil. I have to find a way to hold on to those seeds for longer, to allow them to germinate...
And I've seen God use this topic in the curriculum to speak volumes to Aragorn. For a while now, he has been asking questions about whether aliens are real, or if they live on other planets, which isn't strange in and of itself. But he also started showing a great reluctance to go to the bathroom, and we then pieced together he was afraid of aliens hiding there. Poor thing.
In doing some research before teaching about this topic, I stumbled across this site. What a beautiful idea - learning God's word for kids gives them seeds of courage, of faith, purpose etc. (Got to love how they package it too - you get two identical full length cds when you buy one, with the idea of seed dispersal and giving one away to a friend - love, love LOVE this idea!). At this time, we're not in a position to buy one of these (some tracks are on youtube) but Totally Tots has created a whole lot of printables to go with these cds over here - so I'm going to be doing some soul gardening in the next few days!
May your seeds or promise take root this week!
The Heart of the Matter
I've heard it time and time again, that people are attracted to homeschooling because of the children they meet who come from homeschooling families. Children who are confident, who can play with other children of all ages and engage in conversations with other adults.
But after reflecting on this a little, I realized something else. I don't believe for a moment that having children like this can only happen if they are home schooled. I have many friends whose children are entering their teenage years who are phenomenal kids. Truly, They've been schooled their whole lives, yet can hold intelligent conversations with adults, are confident, happy, incredibly talented kids, who are often involved in social situations where they entertain and engage with kids of all ages. (And sadly in the flip side, I have met, albeit a few, home schooled children who have yet to master the appropriate social skills for their age, and home schooled children who lack direction and motivation.)
So then, it begs the questions - is it really about school vs homeschool?
What is it that really makes a difference?
Surely it's us?
Whether we, as parents, have the hearts of our children, and whether we are prayerfully molding and shaping their characters, be they at home or at school?
God has recently been speaking to me about having the hearts of my children. This challenging excerpt is taken from Ted Tripp's "Shepherding a Child's Heart":
But after reflecting on this a little, I realized something else. I don't believe for a moment that having children like this can only happen if they are home schooled. I have many friends whose children are entering their teenage years who are phenomenal kids. Truly, They've been schooled their whole lives, yet can hold intelligent conversations with adults, are confident, happy, incredibly talented kids, who are often involved in social situations where they entertain and engage with kids of all ages. (And sadly in the flip side, I have met, albeit a few, home schooled children who have yet to master the appropriate social skills for their age, and home schooled children who lack direction and motivation.)
So then, it begs the questions - is it really about school vs homeschool?
What is it that really makes a difference?
Surely it's us?
Whether we, as parents, have the hearts of our children, and whether we are prayerfully molding and shaping their characters, be they at home or at school?
You make a grave mistake if you conclude that child rearing is nothing more than providing the best possible shaping influences for your children. Many Christian parents adopt this "Christian determinism". They figure that if they can always be positive with him, if they can send him to Christian schools or if they can home school, if they can provide the best childhood experience, then their child will turn out okay.
These parents are sure that a proper environment will produce a proper child. They respond almost as if the child were inert. Such a posture is simply determinism dressed in Christian clothes.
I have a friend who is a potter. He told me that he can only create the type of pot the clay he is working with allows him to create. The clay is not merely passive in his hands. The clay responds to him. Some clay is elastic and supple. Some clay is crumbly and hard to shape.
His observation provides a good analogy: You must (emphasis mine) be concerned with providing the most stable shaping influences, but you may never suppose that you are merely molding passive clay. The clay responds to shaping; it either accepts or rejects molding. ... Your son or daughter responds according to the Godward focus of his or her life....
Determinism makes parents conclude that a good shaping influence will automatically produce good children. This often bears bitter fruit later in life. Parents who have an unruly and troublesome teenager or young adult conclude that the problem is the shaping influences they provided. They think if they had made a little better home, things would have turned out okay. They forget the child is never determined solely by the shaping influences of life....Your child's heart determines how he responds to your parenting.Food for thought huh?
Honorable Habits
I really never thought that I would become a Charlotte Mason fan. In the beginning, when I took baby steps along this journey, I read some of her writing and just could not get my head around her principles.
Now that I am a toddler, I find myself drawn to her more and more. There is something infinitely wise in the words she wrote; in the philosophies she developed about children and their education - and yet, as an educator, I had never heard of her until I started researching homeschooling.
I'm thrilled to report that thanks to L.N. Laurio's hard work, we can now read Charlotte Mason's work paraphrased into modern English online for free! You can even print out her work too, if you like. I have yet to decide which I prefer more - original Mason, or modern Mason - but at least there is now a choice!
Having also subscribed to the Simply Charlotte Mason newsletter, I am finding that I am now being 'educated' myself. In recent issues, the CM (Charlotte Mason) motto of "I am, I can, I will, I ought" has been explored. Within this seemingly simple motto, I am finding real tools that I can wield as I seek to shape my children's character.
I'll leave you with this:
The four phrases of Charlotte Mason's motto for students provide a healthy tension, if you will. We must keep all four parts in mind in order to maintain a balance. Our children are individuals with unique personalities and strengths and tendencies. But respecting their natural bent does not mutually exclude their forming good habits. Some children may struggle more than others with forming the habit of orderliness—or obedience or attention—but we should not allow their personalities to dictate our expectations.
Charlotte explained that habit can be stronger than natural tendencies. "Strong as nature is, habit is not only as strong, but tenfold as strong" (Vol. 1, p. 105).
She went on to give illustrations of habits that can be instilled in children, contrary to natural tendencies—habits like cleanliness and courtesy. "Such habits as these, good, bad, or indifferent, are they natural to the children? No, but they are what their mothers have brought them up to; and as a matter of fact, there is nothing which a mother cannot bring her child up to" (Vol. 1, p. 105).
This is not about shaping our children in order to make us mothers look good. Not at all. The shaping that we do with habits and ideas should be motivated from and designed to make that child the best person he or she can become for the glory of God. For their good.
(Excerpt taken from SCM newsletter, For Their Own Good: I Am, I Can, I Ought, I Will, part 3)
Co-Op: Box Construction
Ever wondered what to do with all the recycling that gathers each week?
Collect it, store it, then invite some eager young minds to get creative!
Co-op last Friday was at our house, and was themed "Creator-Inventor-Designer". As I'm aware some moms are a bit nervous about doing/starting/hosting co-op, I'd like to show you just how simple they can be, but how much fun can be had!
As I write this I'm so aware that this might begin to sound like a lesson plan (that's the high school teacher in me coming out!), but I can assure you that although this was the PLAN, and it was ever present in my mind - it was only that, a plan! I'm not entirely sure that it was executed in the same way :)
I began by reading a Bible story about creation, and asking the kids if they knew what an inventor/creator/designer was. Whilst reading I'd given them bubble wrap to pop, as our co-op has a number of boisterous boys for whom sitting still and listening is their biggest challenge - I figured if I could keep their hands busy it might keep their mouths closed! Success rate? 50%!
After sending them out to run and jump a bit, they came back in and read a "Harry and the Robots" (a delightful story of Harry making robots to blast away Nan's cough). It clearly appealed to the boys as there was SILENCE! (interesting what engages children isn't it?).
I'd really hoped that they would catch what God had laid on my heart -
within each of us is this innate creativity,
that comes from God,
to be used for him.
And when we, as mothers, parents, or even children, operate in that creativity we bless others.
In the story, Harry blesses his Nan's heart and cheers her up, and I wanted the kids to see how easily they can create, and to catch something of the delight in creating. And I loved their creativity!
And as always, no co-op is complete without some food!
And even after co-op, the creativity just keeps flowing!
(ps I've deliberately cropped some photos as some moms prefer not to have photos of their kids on the internet...)
Collect it, store it, then invite some eager young minds to get creative!
Co-op last Friday was at our house, and was themed "Creator-Inventor-Designer". As I'm aware some moms are a bit nervous about doing/starting/hosting co-op, I'd like to show you just how simple they can be, but how much fun can be had!
As I write this I'm so aware that this might begin to sound like a lesson plan (that's the high school teacher in me coming out!), but I can assure you that although this was the PLAN, and it was ever present in my mind - it was only that, a plan! I'm not entirely sure that it was executed in the same way :)
I began by reading a Bible story about creation, and asking the kids if they knew what an inventor/creator/designer was. Whilst reading I'd given them bubble wrap to pop, as our co-op has a number of boisterous boys for whom sitting still and listening is their biggest challenge - I figured if I could keep their hands busy it might keep their mouths closed! Success rate? 50%!
After sending them out to run and jump a bit, they came back in and read a "Harry and the Robots" (a delightful story of Harry making robots to blast away Nan's cough). It clearly appealed to the boys as there was SILENCE! (interesting what engages children isn't it?).
I'd really hoped that they would catch what God had laid on my heart -
within each of us is this innate creativity,
that comes from God,
to be used for him.
And when we, as mothers, parents, or even children, operate in that creativity we bless others.
In the story, Harry blesses his Nan's heart and cheers her up, and I wanted the kids to see how easily they can create, and to catch something of the delight in creating. And I loved their creativity!
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| a light sabre... |
 |
| a robot.... |
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| a flower |
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| and with boys, the invariable sword fight! |
And as always, no co-op is complete without some food!
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| Belle made sure she had the best seat! |
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| basking in the sun! |
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| Belle was inspired by the other robot, and asked to make one together |
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| King Arthur with camera, tank, and light sabre! |
(ps I've deliberately cropped some photos as some moms prefer not to have photos of their kids on the internet...)
This post features on the South African Carnival of Homeschool Bloggers where South African home schoolers share experiences, ideas, philosophies and much more. You can join the carnival too by heading to the South African Carnival of Homeschool Bloggers sign up page. In the meantime, head to the Hayes family where the carnival is hosted this week. We hope you enjoy the carnival as much as we have!
