What Christmas Teaches Us about Easter

This holy week, when all the world stops to reflect on the life, death, and resurrection of our Savior—when even secular atheists cannot muster the strength to forget what this season means to the rest of us—I am reminded that the central meaning of Christ’s resurrection is actually defined through the Christmas we celebrated just a few short months ago. 

 

The Christmas holiday season, for all of its excess and materialism, still teaches us what it means to be good givers.  If it’s truly the “hap-happiest time of the year,” it’s only because, for once, we spend an entire month scheming how to show love to others.  We set aside money that should have paid for necessities, and somehow we squeeze pennies out of worn out dollar bills, just to share with those we love. 

 

To give well is to risk well.  We hope our earnest effort will not find itself left untouched at the end of the day, tags intact while other favorite gifts steal the show.  Children shop carefully and linger long at the Dollar Tree, squeezing their hard-earned quarters and shyly wondering whether Mom will like their choice of nail polish, or if Dad will try out his new hanky on Christmas Day.   

 

Sometimes we get nervous when it’s time to present the gifts we’ve worked so hard to prepare.  Something inside of us can’t bear the disappointment of seeing our labor of love get set aside carelessly, as the recipient gladly moves on to something more interesting.  We just want our gift to be accepted—not purchased from us, not discarded, not ignored.  Just received gladly. 

 

And that’s how Christmas teaches us the story of the resurrection.

There was a Giver Who loved the world.  He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 

 

That Son “came unto His own, and His own received Him not.”  They hunted Him down in a garden one late night, where he prayed in agony.  They dragged Him into a mock court, where liars were coerced to witness against Him.  He was blindfolded while Roman soldiers slapped him and challenged Him to identify them.   And then he was scourged—beaten with whips that tore His body with hidden pieces of glass, leaving His “visage so marred, more than any man.”   The next morning, they crucified Him. 

 

“But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities,” Isaiah reminds us.  “The chastisement of our peace was upon Him: and with His stripes we are healed.”    

 

The tomb was guarded in a round-the-clock vigil by Roman soldiers, thanks to the urging of the priests:  “Command therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest His disciples come by night and steal Him away.”  Pilate’s orders were clear:  Seal and guard the tomb “as sure as ye can.”  Despite every measure taken by a competent military that had managed to achieve world conquest by 27 B.C., they failed miserably on that third day. The death-machine of the Roman army could not sustain its power in the presence of the One with nail prints.  For Christians around the world—in free lands as well as in persecuted countries—that resurrection is celebrated every single Sunday of the year, not just at Easter.  Forgiven sinners simply cannot stop celebrating their liberation from sin and guilt. It is the singlular reason we have hope.  Paul said that without that resurrection, we are “of all men most miserable.” 

 

And our salvation through that Resurrected One is a gift. 

 

The price of this gift of salvation is beyond our imagination.  For all of his eloquence, penning over half of the New Testament, the Apostle Paul simple calls it God’s “unspeakable gift.”  There are no words. 

Paul later reminds us that this gift of salvation cannot be enhanced with human effort.  “It is the gift of God.  Not of works, lest any man should boast.”    A gift that has been paid for by the recipient is no longer a gift.  At best, it is a Dutch treat.  At worst, it is an insult.  Salvation can be obtained only as a gift.  There are no other options. 

 

Salvation is a gift not to be tweaked, not to be bought with the dull pennies and  dimes of our pitiful human effort.  Those who would add to the finished work of Christ, “being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God.”  

 

Only God is qualified to pay for our salvation.  We undermine and destroy this gift when we offer to pay for it with the pocket-change and pebbles of our “good works.”  Jesus said, “There is none good, but One.  That is God.”  If being a church member, or getting baptized, or donating my worldly goods could wash my sins away, salvation would no longer be a gift obtained only through the work of Christ on the cross.  Pennies and dimes.  Pebbles and pocket change. 

 

Salvation is a gift not to be ignored as we greedily hunger for the temporal and ignore the spiritual.  “For today is the day of salvation,” warns  Paul.  We don’t have a guarantee of tomorrow.  The author of Hebrews notes, “It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this, the judgment.”    

 

The Christmas season may have taught us what it means to be a good giver, but Easter is the story of being a good receiver.   “But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name.”  (John 1:12).

 

Have you received God’s “unspeakable gift”?  Have you received forgiveness from the perfect Lamb of God, “Which taketh away the sin of the world?”  Have you set aside your own righteousness and asked Jesus to wash you and hide you in His righteousness instead?    

 

“But whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”  (Romans 10:13). 

 

Because salvation is not for givers.  It is only for receivers. 

 

 

The Test

I remember some mischief a friend and I got into during a Sunday morning service when I was about thirteen years old.  We were just old enough to sit in church in a row toward the front, where our parents could spy on us to make sure we were listening to the sermon.  Unfortunately for our parents, we were sitting just enough out of reach to be corrected.  And here is where our story begins . . .

 

Toward the beginning of the sermon, one of the girls in our row leaned over and handed an “Intelligence Quiz” to another friend on the other side of me.  The quiz listed several easy instructions, and the lucky test-taker who could complete the entire list without fail would prove to be “intelligent.” 

 

Here is the list: 

 1.  Using a pencil, draw a circle around a quarter 10 times.

2.  Pick up the quarter.

3.  Roll the quarter from your chin to your forehead, without dropping it.

4.  Roll the quarter back down, without dropping it. 

5.  Roll the quarter from one ear to the other and back again, without dropping it. 

 

Handily, we happened to have a quarter (probably someone’s offering) and a pencil.  How lucky for us!  My friend took the test with all due diligence.  And it was there in the fifth row of church, on a Sunday morning, that I realized what the point of the test really was.  (I would encourage you to take the test if you have any questions.)  I’m sure the pastor was a little startled to look down from his pulpit and spy a young teenage girl with a penciled “cross” drawn across her face.  He shared good company with some startled parents as well. 

 

Not all tests reveal only what is listed on the paper.  Jesus gives a test like that in Matthew 5:44.  “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”  Do you see the test?  It’s not a test of performance.  It’s a test and a cure for bitterness, all wrapped up in one.

 

We all have enemies, and we all struggle at times with bitterness.  I have--more than I want to admit.  Sometimes enemies hide their hatred for us behind “lying lips,” as Proverbs speaks.  And we hide our hatred back.  Nodding politely, even offering assistance at times—but hiding that secret hatred beneath the surface, despising any good report of our enemy, watching from a distance to make sure they fail.  Bitterness is ugly business because it sprays more graffiti on the vandal than the object. 

 

The commands of Christ always have a probing effect on us, exposing our hearts while we scurry around trying to fulfill an easy list of surface commands.  Tracing quarters, but missing the real “test behind the test.”  

 

Love your enemies.  There is hardly an end to the ways that people find to make themselves our “enemies.”   We are tempted to watch for opportunities to hurt back--maybe with just enough information passed along at the right time to damage a reputation, sometimes even recruiting allies to support our hatefulness. 

 

My tendency to be selfish is revealed when I compare my actions toward my enemies with the way I would purposefully treat someone I know I love.  Love is hard to hide—and so is the lack of love.  If I find that I just cannot love back—bitterness lurks.  Where the Holy Spirit wants to empower me to love, I am quenching Him.  Roots of bitterness are tangling up my heart, suffocating the work of Jesus.  There’s the test. 

 

Bless them that curse you.  To “bless” means to speak well of, to speak good things for the other person.  Proverbs 24:17 warns us that if we gloat when our enemies stumble, God will refrain from dispensing just punishment because of our hateful attitude.  God will not be made into my personal “hit-man.”  Vengeance truly is His. 

 

I have not been cursed (that I know of . . .).  But all of us have, at some point, been unfairly accused and gossiped about.  When we receive the startling news that someone has been hosting a “whisper campaign,” what is our response?

 

The words come too quickly, and we want to expose our enemy to the world. Many times the first place where bitterness surfaces is in the titles we give our enemies.  Teenagers with bitterness reduce their parents and teachers with titles like “old man” or just a last name.  Bitterness despises respectful titles. 

 

If everyone around me knows who my enemy is because of how I have spoken about him, I am bitter.  If I would be chagrined to hear a good report of my enemy, or if I work hard to straighten out the story to make him look bad, I am bitter. If I find satisfaction when bad things happen to my enemy, I am bitter.  If I question or dismiss any good thing my enemy does, because his awfulness is necessary to justify my hatred, then I am bitter.  No blessing to be found.  There’s the test. 

 

Do good to them that hate you.  There will always be haters.  If the world could hate Jesus, of course they will hate us!  They hate us for having an accent, or for having more money or better cars than they do.  They hate us for being from a certain city, for not knowing as much as they do, or for winning their prize in the contest.  To acknowledge that I have an enemy is to acknowledge that I have an assignment.  What good have I done for my enemy?  My selfish heart wants to settle for the easy way out: The silent treatment would be so painless.  On paper, we have done nothing wrong, but we have still neglected the central command:   Do something good.  If I were taken to court for loving my enemy, would there be enough evidence to convict me?  There’s the test. 

 

Pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.  Jesus was slapped and beaten.  He knows the pain of intentional direct hurt.  He doesn’t ask us to explain away other people’s evil motives and actions.  We aren’t asked to lie or creatively assign moral motives to malicious behavior.  We are commanded to pray for them.  And lest we give in to the temptation to pray only imprecatory prayers (“Let his children be fatherless!”), we are reminded still to “bless” even in our prayers.  God loves my enemies, even when I don’t.  God has a much bigger, better plan for my enemy than the life he is living right now—using and persecuting me.  I need to pray for God’s good plan to unfold in the life of my enemy.  I need to pray for his salvation and for him to find victory over the sin that is tripping him up right now.  I need to pray for mercy, as I hope that others pray for me when I fail so often.  “But it is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed,” Jeremiah lamented.  All of us. 

 

Bitterness is the ultimate form of judging.  It is impossible for me to be bitter at someone if I acknowledge that I am capable of his sin.  My self-righteous heart wants to resist:  “But I would never do or say that!”  Or maybe I would.  It is only my imagination that allows me to live in a world where I am better than my enemy.  Only the Lord’s mercies have prevented me from being consumed by His judgment. 

 

“He hath showed thee, O man, what is good;

and what doth the Lord require of thee,

but to do justly, and to love mercy,

and to walk humbly with thy God?” 

Micah 6:8.

Stand up anyway

After our class on Wednesday evenings, the kids in our church love to play Dodgeball for the final 5 – 8 minutes of class.  No other game compares to dodgeball.  I have tried many other games, but the request for Dodgeball always comes back—and that is how Dodgeball became a permanent institution at Believers Baptist Church.   Last week, Josh managed to achieve his first victory in Dodgeball: He actually hit a girl with a ball.  She and I were both equally surprised that his lightly-lofted ball hit her, but she had been caught off guard while aiming at her own target.  For the rest of the evening, Josh just smiled to himself from the back row of boys, basking in the satisfaction of his first successful hit. 

 

One of the real lessons in Dodgeball, though, is how to take a hit, and sometimes that’s much harder than taking correct aim.   Foam sponge balls don’t generally cause injury (provided they are directed below the neck and not reaching velocities that compete with the speed of sound—Junior high boys, please take note).  But even without pain, it’s offensive to be targeted and then hit.  Venturing away from the safety of a remote corner can be risky.  The truth is, Dodgeball is much more than just a fun game.  It has a way of teaching us to face both deliberate opposition as well as friendly fire with some fortitude.  The fellowship hall may be filled with an army of sweaty kids aiming foam balls at you:  Stand up anyway.  Don’t flinch.

 

Fear cripples.  Almost undetectable at first, it drapes invisible cords around us and then pulls them tighter when we’re not looking, pulling them like reins and steering us away from discomfort, ridicule, and loss.   But those cords themselves bring loss —often more costly than whatever pain we were avoiding.  When the slothful servant was asked why he did not invest his single talent, he responded, “I was afraid.”  (Matt. 25:25).  Fear of rejection and punishment distracts us from the mission God has sent us to do. 

 

Stand up anyway.  Don’t flinch.

 

Fear deceives.  Quiet and sneering, he rarely makes a sound.  Unlike other vices, whose presence is well-advertised and distained (anger, substance abuse, gossip, hatred, laziness), fear lurks beneath the surface like mold, anonymously wreaking damage before anyone can even identify the mysterious threat.  Fear hides underneath a lie, disguised as “personality”, or “carefulness,” when in fact it is turning our eyes away from the One Who has our lives under His control.  “Fear thou not,” said God, “for I am with thee.”  (Isaiah 41:10).  “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”  (John 8:32).   

Stand up anyway.  Don’t flinch.

 

Fear trains our affections toward selfishness.  It is impossible to “look on the things of others” (Philippians 2) when our scope is filled only with self-preservation.   Fear creates a sense of “victimhood,” leading us to believe that we are being threatened more than other people around us are threatened.  Fear vigorously instructs us not to try anything risky, not to give more than we can afford to give comfortably, not to befriend someone who might reject us.   “But perfect love casteth out fear . . .”   (I John 4:8). “But God commendeth (showed) His love toward us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  (Romans 5:8).   

Stand up anyway.  Don’t flinch.

 

Fear makes liars of us.  Fear tells us what to say, until we forget who we really are and what we really believe.  “The fear of man bringeth a snare.”  (Prov. 29:25).  Fear tells us to adjust our core beliefs to match the approval of those around us.  “For do I now persuade men, or God? Or do I seek to please men? For if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ.”  (Gal. 1:10). 

Stand up anyway.  Don’t flinch.

                     

 

 

“What time I am afraid,

I will trust in Thee.” 

Psalm 56:3

Church Is Spelled "Service"

It’s a phone call we get at least once a month.  “Does your church help with electric bills?”  ( . . . or water, or groceries, or gas)  The answer is “yes,” and we are thankful when we are able to help.  Last month, my husband and our deacon were glad to share the gospel with a lady as they helped pay her water bill.  Giving is what churches do best, since we serve the greatest Giver of all. 

 

But there is a little secret many people don’t realize about churches and their ministries:  They are funded and supported by people just like you.  Not rich people, who don’t notice the twenty dollar bills float out of their wallets.  Our benevolent fund—like almost all churches—is funded by ordinary people who feel the sacrifice and give anyway:  people on Social Security; people whose kids easily qualify for “free and reduced lunches” at school; people whose Christmas may have looked a little slim last year compared to many around us.  But they drop money into the “Others’ Fund” each month because they choose to honor the Lord that way. 

 

Without any science to back up my hunch, I suspect that many people are operating from a flawed understanding of what church is really all about—and much of that understanding has come because of the media.  Thanks to religious programming, there are some unrealistic expectations that have hurt biblical churches in recent years.  Ordinary pastors find themselves compared to painted and polished celebrity preachers; their sermons compared to slick, feel-good presentations; and their facilities compared to campuses, where the money flows freely in TV-land.  It’s easy to see why a false expectation of local churches has cropped up.       

 

There are godly television pastors, and they fill an important role for those who are infirmed.  But for those who are not infirmed—who still have the ability to serve the Lord here on earth—television has offered a sanctuary from service.  Other than a plea for finances at the end of the sermon, these ministries do not offer a way to give to the Lord.  No TV preacher will ask you to come on a weeknight to pray for the missionaries, to come for nursing home visitation, or to bring ham sandwiches to a funeral, and nobody in that televised church service will be a stronger Christian because you tuned in today.  Church is spelled “service.”  Every Christian ought to find a local church to join and serve. 

 

 We all have expectations of what a church ought to be doing to serve us—to help pay an expense during a job layoff; to include our family member on a prayer list for that upcoming surgery; or just to encourage us when we are facing difficult circumstances. 

 

But we do well to ask ourselves:  Am I serving, or just expecting to be served? 

 

Am I a member of a local church?

Do I tithe to my local church?

Do I support the missionaries of my church through giving and prayer?

Do I encourage and pray for others who are missing from services?

Do I keep a copy of my church’s prayer list and pray for the needs on it? 

Do I support the ministry and outreach opportunities of my church?

Do I support the services of my church by attending faithfully?

 

What if everyone at my church participated at the level I do?  Would there still be a church?

 

“For even the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.”   Mark 10:45

 

Christ is our example.  We were saved to serve. 

 

Time-saving Strategies for Busy Moms

When I was younger, I used to think that air was limitless.  People who suffer from asthma know better, having felt the unforgettable panic of “oxygen starvation.”  In similar fashion, most of us go through our youth thinking that “time” comes in limitless supply as well, like the air that comes free at gas stations.  We wish it away, watching school clocks plod one second at a time to that magic dismissal.  We count the seconds it takes for five minutes to pass on a road trip, and we make chains to pass the time before Christmas more “efficiently.”

 

And then suddenly, we are middle aged.  The mirror announces that time has been tricking us all along, pretending to be slow-as-molasses when she was really wearing waxed skates.   We look back on entire decades with the same glance we once cast in remembering last summer or the previous school year.  1993?  Why, that was just . . . twenty-two years ago!  Time is now a precious commodity, one to be valued and counted out carefully, like pennies during a recession.  Seconds and minutes matter now. 

 

For those of us who homeschool and add dozens of other responsibilities on top of that, saving those seconds is as valuable as cutting out 40-cent coupons.  Seconds and pennies both add up.  Let me share with you a few of my strategies for saving seconds. 

 

1.  Expect first-time obedience from your kids early on. 

 

Begging a child to eat his banana or arguing about bath time is, among many other things, a waste of time.  Ideally, this training ought to begin before the age of one, when your commands are as simple as requiring him to comply for a diaper change or to lie down in his own bed for naptime.  When the child disobeys (and believe me when I tell you that they all disobey at first), they need a spanking.  I can safely blog that, since spanking is still legal almost everywhere in the U.S.  (If it’s not legal where you live, ask God for wisdom.  My blog is directed to those who have that legal right.)  I’m certainly not promoting child abuse against toddlers, but a simple spanking from a loving mom will set you up as the authority who needs to be obeyed and respected.  And it will save you lots of time and emotional energy when your demands graduate to homework, chores, and curfews.  I am convinced that the number one mistake of first-time parents (and I include our own rookie years here too) is not expecting first-time obedience.  If even puppies are expected to learn to obey simple commands with one word, on the first call, every single time, our kids really can get this.  J  

 

2.  Delegate as much as possible.   

 

Do you know the feeling you get when you discover a generous coupon—unused and now expired, sitting in your stack of papers?  Ugh.  We spent $2 of our own money at the grocery store, when we could have had it free!  Time is money too.  Are you using all your “coupons,” or are you letting them expire?   Mom doesn’t need to be spending all her precious time picking up toys, wiping down the bathroom sink each morning, or emptying all the trash. Those are great jobs for the “littles.”  Set aside perfectionism and turn over the simple jobs to the under-20 crowd.  

 

The key to delegation is two-fold:  Simple and specific.  Most of us are not very good at retaining more than three steps to a process.  Keep it basic.  

 

3.  Learn the value of that five-letter word:  “While.”  

 

For me, that means getting that washer going as early in the day as possible, so it’s working for me while we’re eating breakfast; or giving a spelling test while washing dishes.  Review quiz questions while folding clothes.  You can’t spend the same dollar twice, economists tell us—but you can spend the same second twice by capitalizing on ways to conquer two tasks at once.

 

4.  Stop caring about things that don’t matter. 

 

Unmatched socks or unfolded pajamas stuffed into teenagers’ dresser drawers; old candles, rubber bands, a few stray Christmas tree ornaments,  and unidentified keys lying in close proximity in some random junk drawer.   My OCD friends are probably having trouble breathing right about now, but lean closer, so you can hear me whisper where no one else can hear me:  It doesn’t matter.  There really are some things not worth your time and energy.  If your kids can look presentable in clean, unwrinkled clothes each day, then I won’t tell anyone you haven’t been doing underwear drawer checks.  (And don’t you tell anyone I haven’t either.)    

 

5.  Develop parameters to keep from becoming a slave to your electronics. 

 

Even though I’m a pastor’s wife, I don’t answer the phone during school hours.  If there’s an emergency, everyone we know has my husband’s cell phone, or they can leave a message on the home answering machine. 

 

When I was growing up, we wrote letters—you know, with pens, paper, envelopes—stuff like that.  The average turn-around time for a letter-and-reply was at least two weeks.  Nowadays, with texting, the average turn-around time for message-and-reply is about one minute.  Younger moms who have grown up with texting and Facebooking may find that they need to put their electronics where they don’t hear the notifications every time someone "likes” a Facebook photo or wants to send that infamous text:  “Call me.”  J  Free yourself up and save some time.  Re-adjust your friends’ expectations if they are used to getting a reply back within 30 seconds. 

 

The TV can be a real time waster, too.  Unless there is a national emergency, it’s not usually a good idea to start the day with the TV on.  We get drawn in so easily to human-interest stories that disguise themselves as “news.”  Every hour of TV offers at least 15 minutes of commercials.  None of us have that kind of time! 

 

6.  Discover “auto pilot.” 

 

It’s OK to eat the same food on a regular basis.  Creativity takes time and energy.  If your time is at a premium, as mine is, then you may have to save your “Martha Stewart” meals for later, when you have the time to purchase specialty ingredients and can afford to experiment.  Routines in meals, chores, homeschool classes, and household maintenance save us the time and energy of having to make constant decisions. 

 

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The Apostle Paul exhorts us to be “redeeming the time because the days are evil.”  Time is money; money is time.   Choose carefully how you spend both! 

 

 

 

The View from the Summit: Thoughts on Homeschooling

They’re graduating this spring—my two little “guinea pigs” who ushered this novice mom into the intimidating world of “homeschooling.”  We started our journey two weeks before 9-11, playing numbers-and-hopping games in the driveway before we heard the awful news that broke our hearts and shook our secure little world.  From there, we gingerly waded through spelling tests and math homework, a semester of Christian school, and then eight more years of flash cards and phonics drills, state capitals and presidential history ringing out in the basement of the parsonage.  We switched school rooms three times before landing on a successful location--and even after we landed on our favorite school room, we managed to rearrange and reorganize almost every school year since.  Several tons of notebook paper, a few science fair projects, and a bushel of ballpoint pens later, the twins now study independently through DVD school, self-prepping for their ACT through an online diagnostic site.  Whew!!  We have come a LONG way from hopping in the driveway! 

                                                                                                              

And you will too, new homeschool mom.  It won’t always be “today.”  The fat pencils will someday defer to a lap top or a tablet, and the “Way to Go!” stickers will eventually fall out of style.  If you could join me for a day at the summit of this incredible adventure, what would you see from the top looking back at the jagged, sometimes treacherous path that you are still climbing?  Let me tell you what you would see:

 

1.  Your relationship with your child will be the thing he remembers most about his education. 

 

Science quizzes, book reports, and handwriting tests are all important and can seem overwhelming in the day-to-day crunch, but most of the tests and quizzes themselves will be forgotten.  I promise.  What will not be forgotten is a kind word on a frustrating day; a cheerful mom when the gray, dull January kept everyone indoors; a surprise treat of Valentine M & M’s in the middle of the morning.  Unfortunately, our memories fill up as well with angry words, harsh expectations, and unfair comparisons.  My view from the summit reveals days I wish I could erase.  But life doesn’t come with an eraser.  So, new homeschool mom, just learn from my mistakes:  Never sacrifice your relationship on the altar of false expectation.  I’m thankful for forgiving kids. 

 

2.  You are more important than your curriculum.

 

I remember, many years ago, speaking at a ladies’ banquet when a homeschool mom I didn’t know approached me afterwards to talk “homeschool.”  She mostly wanted to talk “curriculum.”  She wanted to sell me on a particular style (and publisher).   I don’t fault her for loving her curriculum.  There are many choices nowadays, and it is always beneficial to a child if his parents are willing to be 100% supportive of the curriculum or learning style they have chosen.  But it’s not something to debate, and I respect other choices.

 

What curriculum did you use growing up?  The truth is, most of us got an eclectic assortment of lots of different things.  Some of the curriculum sources we used are probably out of business by now—replaced long ago with something “better.”  How did we ever make it in life?  How did kids from Kenya or Haiti end up at Christian colleges with us?  The answer:  Somewhere along the way, we had at least a few good teachers.  Remember, curriculum is a tool, not a magician.  Any curriculum (even those I don’t particularly endorse), in the hands of a plucky and undeterred teacher will produce impressive results.  The teacher, not the curriculum, is the real engine of every classroom. 

 

Curriculum cannot structure our homeschools or teach honesty, discipline, or respect.  They can’t initiate a discussion at the dinner table about the constitution, or point out an apostrophe error on a sign at the state fair.  That’s your job, Mom.  And you can do it.

 

3.  Watch for signals. 

 

Grades tell only part of a story—and sometimes, only a very small part.  The temptation of a new homeschool mom is to weigh too heavily on grades and to ignore other key signals.  Good grades can inflate a perception of “intelligence” (and thus reducing teachability), and poor grades can defeat a child who is simply facing other issues at the time. 

 

Frustration, yawning, boredom, distraction, and the absence of good discussion are all key signals—and they are usually gauging our methods, not our students.  Bored kids don’t need discipline; they need engagement.   

 

Knowledge is housed in a huge castle, with lots of doors.  As women, we tend to rely almost entirely on the door of “words” for entrance--but learning styles vary.  Which key works best for your child?  The answer may surprise you as it did me. Explore the world of auditory, visual, and kinesthetic learning, as well as the impact of dyslexia and right-brained/left-brained skill differences. 

 

4.  Beware of imposing your own limitations on your child. 

 

So you haven’t used Algebra today.  (Neither have I.)  And when it comes to decimals and percentages?  Bah humbug!  A little guesswork is really all it took me to figure out what 40% off of $19.99 was last night at Hobby Lobby.   

 

Unless . . .you are trying to figure out if you’ve been overcharged on a credit card that demands 12.4% interest.  Or what your mortgage payment should be.  Or what the 6% tax charge will be for a riding lawn mower. 

 

Helping our children to soar means to send them beyond our own limited experiences.  Foreign languages, computers, physical education, drama, art, music, and yes, even Algebra, may be more important in your child’s life than they were in yours.  Aim high.  Limited knowledge is a shackle. 

 

 

 

One of the first verses we taught the twins in homeschool came from Ecclesiastes.  I can still hear their chirpy little voices every morning, after we pledged allegiance to the flag and the Bible:  “And whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, DO IT with thy might!”  Amen!  Climb that mountain with courage, mom.  The view from the summit is amazing.