I can hardly believe it. We’re finishing up our third year. Three years of this crazy experiment that was only supposed to last for one. Three years of doing the most amazing—the most challenging—thing I have ever done in my life.
Three years of homeschooling.
Some days crawl by. And yet the weeks and months and years go by in a flash.
People often ask whether I miss working outside of the home. Sometimes the honest answer is yes. Just like we miss any season of life that has come and gone. But what a privilege to be able to pour into my children day after day—to learn and grow together.
That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
In the itty bitty nitty gritty, we’re in this together. And it’s that togetherness that keeps us going. There are plenty of days where tears fall and tempers flare. There are days where I feel completely unravelled. Homeschooling is not a picnic in the park.
Except, of course, when it is.
Because there are those days too. Days where we spread out our books on the beach and, in between grammar lessons, we dig our toes into the sand as waves lap our ankles and the wind caresses our hair. Days where science class has us following winding paths through lush forests and beside gurgling streams. Days where we gather with friends beneath soft pink magnolia blossoms and paint lovely watercolours, looking for all the world like we ourselves are a painting.
Not every day, mind you. (I wish!) But there are days.
And there are mornings.
In the mornings—most mornings—we gather. We gather around the table to focus on the good and the true. Because as we fill our hearts with lovely things, we ourselves become more lovely.
It’s messy, yes. But there is beauty and truth, and we do it for this.
Togetherness and loveliness.
Beauty and truth.
And a grace that weaves itself through it all.