Where I'm From-Home School Version

On December 10th I posted a "template" for a poem I found at this site:
http://www.fragmentsfromfloyd.com/archives/2005_02.html#003144

I also posted a poem on December 10th using that template. It was an easy and fun poem to write and I've wanted to write another one ever since. Today I decided to write one using our home school experience as the topic:




Where I'm From

I am from bookshelves stuffed with books, from Alpha Phonics and Saxon Math.
I am from the house of boys, camo clothing and muddy boots.
From strange pets, rancid smelling aquariums, and science experiments gone wrong.
I am from feelings of inadequacy, fear of failure, and seeing God’s incredible Grace as our sons have grown to love and serve Him.
(And succeed in college and the work force to boot!)
I am from sibling rivalry, and strong-willed boys;
from Benjamin, James, Alec, and The Bear.
From “Why do I have to learn this?" and “He’s looking at me!”
I am from soggy, wet, freezing camping trips, miles and miles of hiking, and catching crawdads in the streams.
From pizza on Friday nights if school work was completed and cheesecake for nearly every birthday.
I am from “I love you mommy!” and “Thank you for home schooling me.”.
I am from laughter and teasing and boys who are now some of my best friends.
I am from crayon drawings, playing games, wobbly pottery and blood-stained wood carvings.
I am from a house that is less messy than it used to be and one that grows quieter with each passing day.

Shoes

Once upon a time there was a tiny girl. She loved to run barefoot through the grass and let mud squish between her toes.
When she was a little older she moved to the mountains of SUNNY Colorado. There she roamed the mountains in hiking boots.
On her wedding day she wore little white ballet slippers. (Not Nikes. She wasn't planning on running away from her groom.)
For her first Christmas as a newly married woman she wanted to surprise her husband. She bought a little black dress and some black heels. They were going to Denver to see the Nutcracker and she wanted to look mature. Instead, she looked like the person she really was. A young bride, used to wearing hiking boots, wobbling down the sidewalk hoping she wouldn't fall off one of her high heels and sprain an ankle.
Over time the Lord blessed this girl with 4 boisterous boys. Black heels? Not on your life. Sneakers became her shoe of choice. Sneakers and blue jeans. Practical. Comfortable.
Finally, those boys grew up. They wanted to bless their parents and give them a night to remember. They all pitched in and bought their mother and father tickets to the symphony!
Now the girl-grown-up had a problem. What to wear. Could she....would she dare.....the temptation was great. She wanted to wear her sneakers and blue jeans. Reason won out and she once again decided to don a dress. A friend had given her a beautiful, black, flowing skirt. So, a little black sweater and another pair of black heels were purchased.
Saturday night this girl-turned-middle-aged mother will once again try and impress her husband. Her sneakers will be tucked away in the closet. With black shoes on her feet, she'll wobble down the sidewalk, hoping she won't fall off one of her high heels and sprain an ankle.

Paul Again

Every morning, before Alec starts on the 3 R's, we spend some time reading the bible together and then a chapter from another book. Sometimes the book we read is fictional; sometimes an autobiography or a biography. For the last few months we've been reading Paul by Charles Swindoll.

This morning Alec and I read about Paul and some of what he endured as a follower of Christ, and how. It was soooooo convicting, and encouraging. (Convicting because I am nothing like Paul. I'm more like Nebuchadnezzar-"Would ya please just go away and let me eat some grass?!"

Anyway-I know several people who are going through some very difficult things in their lives right now. I'd like to share with you what Swindoll said about suffering and I hope and pray it encourages someone out there.

Swindoll starts the section by quoting 2 Cor. 1:8-9. "For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life; indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves....."

Swindoll goes on to explain that Paul was experiencing pressure from opposition. Pressure from rejection. Pressure from physical strain and pressure from emotional strain. Paul said that he was burdened excessively to the point where he despaired of life. He was at the breaking point.

2 Cor. 1:9-10 says, "Indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves in order that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead; who delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us, He on whom we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us...."

Chuck Swindoll points out exactly what Paul is saying: God has delivered us. God is delivering us. God will deliver us.

I'm going to just quote directly from the book for a moment because it's so good!
Paul focused on God's ability to handle the circumstances from start to finish. That freed him to lean on and tap into God's power alone. I think the apostle reached the place where he realized he wasn't capable of altering anything. He wasn't competent enough to fix the problem or smart enough to solve the mystery. His confidence drained away to the point he despaired of life itself. At that critical juncture he found supernatural strength by looking up. He said, "Lord, right now I am unable to go on. I'm not capable. I'm not competent. I'm not confident in anything in myself to relieve this pressure. I trust You and You alone."

I'm probably the last person on earth who should be saying this because I fail at it more often than not. However, I'm going to say it anyway.
Go get a bible and your journal. Read Psalm 37:3. What's the last line say?
"Feed on His faithfulness." We need to remind ourselves that God is faithful. No matter what.
That's why I said to go get your journal. Not to write in it. To look back and see all the times the Lord has been faithful in your life.
Don't have a journal? Then just flip through the bible and feed on the faithfulness of the Lord-every page shows you how capable He is. How much He loves you. How His strength is made perfect in our weaknesses.

Swindoll says it all filters down to Surrender. Just tell the Lord you are in over your head and weary. Tell Him you can't do it one more day. Chuck says that is what the Lord is waiting for. Your surrender.

S.A.D.

I found the info below on this website:http://www.lumie.com/help/quick-guides/sad


Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and winter blues
Animals react to the changing seasons with changes in mood, metabolism and behaviour and human beings are just the same. Many people find they eat and sleep slightly more in winter and dislike the dark mornings and short days and this is commonly referred to as 'winter blues'. For some, however, symptoms are severe enough to disrupt their lives and to cause considerable distress. These people are suffering from SAD.
How does SAD affect people?
Symptoms tend to start from around September each year lasting until April, but are at their worst in the darkest months. Symptoms include:
Sleep problems - oversleeping but not refreshed, cannot get out of bed, needing a nap in the afternoon
Overeating - carbohydrate craving leading to weight gain
Depression, despair, misery, guilt, anxiety - normal tasks become frustratingly difficult
Family / social problems - avoiding company, irritability, loss of feeling
Lethargy - too tired to cope, everything an effort
Physical symptoms - often joint pain or stomach problems, lowered resistance to infection


I have it. Bad. Hey-I have SAD, bad.
Lights aren't working.
Would someone please tell me a joke or a riddle. Something. Anything.
My brain needs to go on life-support. I can't take the gray much longer.
Yes, I am using my very own, personal blog to vent. Vent, vent, vent.
There. Now I feel better.

Baby Einstein

I'm not at all sure what he was thinking....they were deep and heavy thoughts for a 6 year old little boy.
This afternoon Barrett, (our 6 year old), myself, and my husband were out running a few errands. Barrett and I decided to sit in the car and wait for daddy during one stop. I was daydreaming, probably about climbing Mt. Everest, when Barrett stopped my climb dead in its tracks.
"Mommy, what would happen to me if you and daddy and my brothers all died?"
Whoa, that took me off guard.
"Well, sweetie, you'd go live with Joey and Nancy in Oregon."
Barrett looked puzzled, so I went on to explain that Joey is his cousin and Nancy is his wife. They have 3 children close to Barrett's age. I told him they would love him and raise him like he was one of their kids. He would have 2 new brothers and a sister to play with. I went on and told him they love Jesus very much and would take him to church and teach him all about Jesus.
"But mommy, how would they find me? How would they know you were dead?"
Now there's a good question. How would they find out? Where would Barrett be when we died?
Who would take care of him until Joe could get here? I was over tired and my sleepy brain rushed all over the place, imagining several scenarios, not to mention thinking this is an extremely odd conversation to be having with someone who only left the world of diapers and nursing 3 years ago.
Once again he interrupted my musings. "Mommy, when we get home would you show me where their phone number is?"
"Yes, I can do that..."
"I'd have to bring a lot of stuff to their house wouldn't I?"
"Well, yes you would. What would you like to take with you?"
Deep in my heart I was bleeding for my little Worrier. I can't leave you yet. What would you do without your mommy to comfort you? I need you. I'm not ready to leave you.
My thoughts went on as I stared at his sweet little face. Would he like Oregon? Would he even remember Indiana? How long would it be before Nancy was "Mommy" and he'd forget I was the one who had given him birth? Maybe he'd want to take all the scrapbooks I've made with him so he could remember his family. Would he want to take one of my blouses as a "blankie" to cuddle with?
No. Instead he took me off guard one final time, this time with his usual logic.
"I would have to take all my workbooks for school, Mommy."

The Strangest Thing

I carried them in my body and gave birth to them.
I nursed them on demand.
Cared for them when they were sick.
Taught them their numbers, their letters, and the colors that brighten their days.
Together we learned about goats, turtles, chickens, Lewis and Clark, and the seasons.
We pulled buckets of water out of the pond and looked at tiny creatures under the microscope.
We made candles and a solar system than hung from the light fixture in our dining room.
We've learned together how to study the bible more effectively and have shared our hearts in prayer.
We sat together on snowy days, their faces content and interested as I read thousands of pages out loud to them.
We've laughed squillions of times together over the silliest things. And we've cried together over the loss of pets, friends, and family.
We had a medieval feast complete with banners, games, knights in shining armor and food fit for a king.

And now? Now they're grown. Now they can rest their cheeks on the top of my head for a moment before they rush out the door.
It's the strangest thing......

Now You Know Why I Yam the Way I Yam

My dad was born in 1924. He grew up an only child. He had a very event-filled life that included divorced parents, going to live with his grandmother when he was a young boy, serving in the military in WWII, being shot in the foot in a hunting accident, and raising 6 sons.
One day when he was in his 50's his dad called him.
"Frank, are you busy?"

"Not particularly. What do you need Dad?"

" I need you to go to a funeral with me this afternoon."

"Sure thing, Dad. Whose funeral is it?"

"Well, uh, that's the thing. It's your brother's."

"My brother's? I don't have a brother."

"Yes, actually you do. He's been living in an institution all his life because he was crazy and he died. Will you go with me to his funeral?"


True story. I didn't tell Mike about this until after we were married.