Showing posts from September, 2011

Why Not PCA (Private School)?

Since I never completed my post on how and why we chose public school, and since I DID write a post about our parent interview for private Christian school, many of you have asked, "What happened with PCA? Did she not get in? Was it too much money? Why didn't you choose it?" We loved every experience we had with PCA. The teachers, students, administrators--wow, they are the BEST--so respectful, enthusiastic and kind. PCA is like the fun of Disney World wrapped in the Holy Spirit. They integrate family and faith into their schooling and produce a truly stellar education. It was heart-renching to turn down their VERY GENEROUS financial assistance offer. But on the whole, we felt like it was not right for this time. Karl and I value "room for margin." We don't pack out our schedule, finances, or any aspect of life to the max because when we've done this in the past, it leads to more stress and less flexibility. If there's no room for margin in our

Our Switch to Home School

I held back tears as I walked into the school. While clutching my 8-page stack of papers, my hands trembled--partly with rage, partly with anticipation of confronting the principal. I shook my head while I said to Karl, "I never thought I'd be on this side of the table." I planned to never be THAT parent--the one complaining about my child's teacher. But after 2+ weeks of tears and fears, after a sham of a parent-teacher conference, I trudged into the principal's office with documentation of mental and emotional abuse--8 typed pages worth. If you (reader) are looking for a blog post to confirm your suspicions that public school is all bad, you will not find that here. I grew up in public school. I have walked through most of my life while my mother taught in public school. My sister followed. My aunts and cousins work for the public school system. And no doubt, if Karl and I had not joined the ministry, I would have served alongside them. And while yes, the syst

Today, I Am a Window Washer--a Psalm of Motherhood

Today, I am a window washer, by choice. Splatters of dry rain wipe away with one stroke. Transforming my view, I sigh, satisfied at the finish. Clean dishes, clean laundry, but the dirty closely follow. I work diligently. Perpetual tasks, fleeting results. Little arms I embrace. Little hurts I kiss away. Trifle disputes I settle. Throughout the day, I repeat. Far from the finish. What's my progress? Results not instant like window washing. But I will repeat my steps tomorrow. An army of ants in my bathtub, revealed as I lift away a towel. Again? I am weary. They swarm my sanctuary; I terminate. Insecurities, like ants, swarm my mind. Supposed gone, but You reveal. Again, Lord? You are faithful to terminate. You, O God, are my true sanctuary. Your living, unchanging Word. "Train a child in the way he should go..." I will. With Your help. Meager windows. I return my focus: My magnum opus, my lifework far from completion. Little arms I jo