Be still

Yesterday I took a walk by myself and tried to take stock of where I am in the home education endeavor. While there I saw, in my favorite section of creek, a doe and two fawns playing in the water. Gorgeous… I hunkered down on the bridge and sat motionless, and the doe tried to figure out if I was friend or foe. She walked toward me, stomping her front foot with each step as if warning her frolicsome kids to stay back.

After a few minutes, some other walkers came down the trail, noisily. Mrs. Deer and her family melted away into the brush before I got any good pics. But those moments of stillness were the dominant experience of the walk. This morning it occurs to me that they were a gift from the Lord, sent to suggest a response to what was then, and is now, on my mind:

I’m overwhelmed.

I feel like we’ve been booking along since my soon-to-be fifth grader was in first grade, just doing whatever The Well-Trained Mind said. For the most part, I’m pleased with the results. I see some qualities of mind and attitudes toward learning that please me very much. I see an ability to think and play creatively, without the aid of electronic imaginations of various kinds. I see spiritual depth. I see an ability to learn independently, and remember information. I see an attitude toward books as sources of knowledge, and an ability to read with total absorption.

But I also see weaknesses. I feel like we need to make a change in math. Handwriting and spelling are subjects we’ve “done” consistently, but I don’t see much quality improvement. I hear too many audiobooks. I remember well how weak in writing the college freshmen I used to teach were, but how do I remedy that in my own kids? Can I do any better?

I see, suddenly and blindingly, my own immense weaknesses as a manager. Messy rooms that I’ve allowed to be maintained. Delayed obedience. Character traits I’ve been passive about because I haven’t felt the authority to prune them. I see a younger daughter who needs more time in the direct sunlight, out from under the shade created by the spreading limbs of her older sister’s gifts and personality. I see myself managing, too often, through my own frustration, with myself and with them and with these things that I’ve allowed, rather than setting goals and either praising them for meeting them or enforcing consequences.

I’m at a point where I want to make some changes, but as I’ve opened the window to get a whiff of fresh air from beyond The Well-Trained Mind, a sense of the enormity of this endeavor, and the plethora of resources and approaches to choose from, and my own inadequacy to the task, have rushed in like a gale force wind.

Be still and know that I am God. That’s the fruit of yesterday’s walk.

What does God want my kids to know? What are God’s educational priorities? How does he want me to respond here?

Be still. It occurs to me that the panic comes when I flail in all directions — wanting to have a plan TODAY, wanting to read everything available, wanting the vision to set in ready-made.

Be still. Listen. Choose one task — for today, for the girls it’s cleaning rooms; for me it’s increasing my history booklist for next year by three chapters.

Be still. Wait for the Lord. Be strong, and let your heart take courage. Yes, wait for the Lord.

“Be strong and let your heart take courage.” How do you be strong while waiting for strength?

By being still. By forcing yourself to wait. By refusing to act until motivated by the needed vision.

Be still.