My super hero son didn’t understand. I climbed on the lawn tractor to chop down the rapidly growing grass surrounding our home. Nate watched. He blinked. Frowned. I thought he didn’t like the noise the large piece of machinery churned up. Oh, but his frown sprouted from so much more. Over the clatter of the tractor, I heard high-pitched squeals …
Some days, homeschooling is a total joy. Other days are pure hair-pulling frustration. Tears. Giggles. Broken pencils. 100s. Red marks. Some days I feel like supermom. Most of the time, though, I feel like I’m groping my way through a fog, praying I’m not scarring my children for life. (By the way, have you ever wondered why there aren’t many …
I don’t know where to begin. For starters, I’ve been to several writers conferences. All of them were inspiring and beneficial. All of them taught me something valuable and allowed me to meet other writers, but Mount Hermon is different. Never have I been at a conference that is so incredibly organized, yet feels so laid back and unscripted. The …
Some days I loathe it. Other days I nearly weep with gratitude for it. Strange dichotomy. Every time I look at that little white pill in my palm, I am overcome with an odd mix of emotions. When I was diagnosed with depression in 2002, I was desperate for relief from the dark shroud that had blanketed my mind and heart. …
“Mom, I need help.” Hearing that plea several times a day is sweet. Endearing. After all, I’m Mom and that’s what I’m here for. I hesitantly confess when it becomes a continual, whiny plea of frustrated, disgruntled children, I begin to lose my cool. I sit down to eat and my son spills his drink. I’m steadily typing away on …
“Plot twist!” It’s what I yell out in the middle of a chaotic day. It’s what I mutter to myself when I’ve blocked off writing time only to discover my three year old has found a sharpie and is chasing the cat through the house threatening to give him a new fur-do. “Plot twist” is what I choke out with …
“Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.” ~Mother Teresa Close your eyes. I want you to picture this in your mind. You stand staring at a condemned house. Weeds and ivy have taken over the land. Broken glass litters …
On Wednesday nights, I’m teaching a group of teen girls about being God’s princess. We’ve used classic fairy tales as a springboard into learning what it means to be an heir with Christ. It’s been a fun and exciting study, and now we’re embarking on a new princess. A less famous princess than some: the poor, exhausted girl from The …
When we started on this home school journey two years ago, I was a nervous wreck but incredibly excited. I had visions of ripe little minds growing into mature little models of exemplary citizens. I envisioned smiles, serene contentment, and—okay, I’ll just say it—I pictured the school from Little House on the Prairie. You know, the one room school house …
I’ve had to learn some things the hard way. After years of exhaustion, of disappointment, of hiding behind my masks, of dark depression, I’ve learned that people pleasing may always be a battle for me. A daily battle. It’s a lie that I believed for far too long—mainly, that approval and love are the same thing. However, as God has …