The First Day Never Goes as Planned

I've been homeschooling something like 17 years, give or take a year because I'm too lazy to do the math. And, I promise you, in this house, the first day of a new term never goes as planned. After all these years, though, it always goes predictably.

I can predict that it's going to be a bit rocky.

It begins with me arising early, super early, because I am eager to have everything just so. The environment is readied--I've spent hours getting everything just so. I'm very visual and I find a certain peace in the order and the color. All good.

Then, I awaken the children, earlier than usual, because I want them to be eager to begin also. The details from there vary from year to year, but they go something like this:  Despite great provisioning just days before, we don't have eggs for breakfast. Littlest Darling has a runny nose, a fever, and a croupy cough and she doesn't want me to leave her to go to the store. Two little girls mourn the absence of the neighbor's child who slips in and out of our family life. She is going to "real school" today and will join us at 2:30. There is a bit of envy over lunchboxes and school shoes. Little boys are not so little any more and not so eager to be awakened, either. Everyone wants eggs for breakfast.

We begin determinedly, my enthusiasm ebbing a bit as my lofty plans meet reality. I remember a morning over a decade ago when I had such awesome things planned, such an elaborate environment readied, and three little boys responded ... well, they didn't. I'm not even sure they noticed, but they certainly weren't impressed. Those were days before blogs, before the temptation to leave my disappointing crew in our dining room-turned-learning room and go look again at the beautiful pictures of other women's learning spaces (here's where I am resisting the urge to link like crazy--y'all can find them;-) and to download page after page of other people's plans. No, I didn't leave my regular, ordinary, unimpressed boys in my regular, ordinary home and head off to the computer to escape to some sort of blog perfection. I called my husband and I cried. He didn't get it. Well, he got that I was crying, but he didn't get that I thought those things that were so important to me would inspire the boys. And on that day, I learned it's not about me. It's about them.

Flash forward a dozen or so years. Now, the plans grate up against reality on the first day and I'm not surprised. I know this day is the day I test drive my philosophical underpinnings and see how it all works in real life. And when that beautiful basket with the multi-colored gems is gleefully dumped all over the wood floor and the wee one with the big eyes and runny nose delights in the sound so she does it again, I remember.

They haven't been clicking around Pinterest.

They haven't been trading stories on Facebook.

They haven't been reading wonderful, inspiring books about family rhythm and prepared environments.

They haven't been planning curriculum all summer. 

They are why I am doing this at all.

They are the same today as they were last week. We have to meet in the middle. I have to look realistically on all my ponderings and plans and adjust them according to the real life I live here. With them. I have to recognize where I haven't left margin. Where I didn't consider.

Room.

Room for stopping to wipe noses and to swish toilets. Room for cooking and eating and cleaning up afterwards. Room to be alone, each of us in our own spaces, to think and dream and create.  Room for balance.

Reading and running free. Staying on task and stopping to notice and wonder. Pencil to paper and needle to fabric. Still at the table with close up tasks and quick on their feet with a ball beneath them. Discussing what I planned and pondering things I never would have considered. Planning with diligence and moving away from the plans.

The first day is always a little off balance. These days, I plan for that, too. This is as it should be. The grace of the plans that just don't work sheds glorious light on the beauty of educating at home, together. I can adjust the plan. I can allow them to force me to consider each one of them individually and to see where my notions meet their needs and where they fail. When I see that the first day is their day, I begin to understand that the first day might just be the day when I learn the most.

I learn that I can't do this on my own strength. I am reminded that I must see the child, each child, and meet him where he is. I learn anew that this isn't school at home. It's a lifestyle of learning that requires an incredible amount of sacrifice and even more grace. 

 

It's just the first day. It didn't go according to plan. But that was actually part of the plan.  I embrace the rough spots, the weak places, the small failures,  knowing that He is teaching me; He is begging me to show my children that I can be taught.

Oh, I can!  Show me, God. Show me your holy will.  How does it all fit together? How do we all grow together? What is Your plan for this family? Grant me the grace and the humility to set aside my plan for your better one.

St. Monica

image here

Exemplary Mother of the Great Augustine,

You perseveringly pursued your wayward son

Not with wild threats 

But with prayerful cries to heaven. 

Intercede for all mothers in our day 

So that they may learn 

To draw their children to God. 

Teach them how to remain

Close to their children, 

Even the prodigal sons and daughters 

Who have sadly gone astray. 

Dear St Monica, troubled wife and mother, 

Many sorrows pierced your heart

During your lifetime. 

Yet you never despaired or lost faith. 

With confidence, persistence and profound faith, 

You prayed daily for the conversion

Of your beloved husband, Patricius 

And your beloved son, Augustine. 

Grant me that same fortitude, 

Patience and trust in the Lord. 

Intercede for me, dear St. Monica, 

That God may favorably hear my plea 

For 

(mention your petition here) 

And grant me the grace 

To accept his will in all things, 

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, 

In the unity of the Holy Spirit, 

One God forever and ever. Amen.

more here

From the Confessions of Saint Augustine, bishop
Let us gain eternal wisdom

The day was now approaching when my mother Monica would depart from this life; you knew that day, Lord, though we did not. She and I happened to be standing by ourselves at a window that overlooked the garden in the courtyard of the house. At the time we were in Ostia on the Tiber. We had gone there after a long and wearisome journey to get away from the noisy crowd, and to rest and prepare for our sea voyage. I believe that you, Lord, caused all this to happen in your own mysterious ways. And so the two of us, all alone, were enjoying a very pleasant conversation, forgetting the past and pushing on to what is ahead. We were asking one another in the presence of the Truth–for you are the Truth–what it would be like to share the eternal life enjoyed by the saints, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, which has not even entered into the heart of man. We desired with all our hearts to drink from the streams of your heavenly fountain, the fountain of life.

That was the substance of our talk, though not the exact words. But you know, O Lord, that in the course of our conversation that day, the world and its pleasures lost all their attraction for us. My mother said: “Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here, since I have no further hopes in this world. I did have one reason for wanting to live a little longer: to see you become a Catholic Christian before I died. God has lavished his gifts on me in that respect, for I know that you have even renounced earthly happiness to be his servant. So what am I doing here?”

I do not really remember how I answered her. Shortly, within five days or thereabouts, she fell sick with a fever. Then one day during the course of her illness she became unconscious and for a while she was unaware of her surroundings. My brother and I rushed to her side but she regained consciousness quickly. She looked at us as we stood there and asked in a puzzled voice: “Where was I?”

We were overwhelmed with grief, but she held her gaze steadily upon us and spoke further: “Here you shall bury your mother.” I remained silent as I held back my tears. However, my brother haltingly expressed his hope that she might not die in a strange country but in her own land, since her end would be happier there. When she heard this, her face was filled with anxiety, and she reproached him with a glance because he had entertained such earthly thoughts. Then she looked at me and spoke: “Look what he is saying.” Thereupon she said to both of us: “Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.” Once our mother had expressed this desire as best she could, she fell silent as the pain of her illness increased.

~St. Augustine, from today's Office of Readings

10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Value and Practice Faith

{{Sixth in a series discussing The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Reclaiming our Passion, Purpose, and Sanity.}}

This week, I'm looking to the Toolkit to get our conversation of the 10 Habits started and I'm counting on you to chat it up in the comments. I'm still recovering from what can only be described as epic mastitis. Sarah may never be allowed to wean--I'm afraid to ever "skip" a nursing again.

So, let's look at four ways to value and practice faith. 

#1 Think Before You Leap. Dr. Meeker writes,  "When we choose to pursue faith, we must keep our eyes and minds wide open, but we must keep our hearts open as well. We must find the balance between learning, reading, and seeking answers on the one hand and following answers that we feel God is giving us on the other. We should seek and then when God answers, find what He gives us."

I think she speaks here to the balance between a completely emotional, "feeling" approach to God and one that draws upon reason to enlighten faith. Perhaps it's just the communities to which I've been exposed in my adult life, but I've met far more people who intellectualize faith (I actually think that in this context "religion" is the right word) than those who "simply feel." Your experience may differ. I know that growing up, the context of faith was almost entirely "simply feeling," and I was hungry for something with some "teeth." Perhaps I gravitiated towards a an extreme interpretation of codified "religion" in order to compensate for that sense of twisting in the wind and looking for firm ground. This chapter is about balance. Balance is a good thing, I think.

Dr. Meeker urges us to look towards those we respect in our faith communities and ask for reading suggestions, so as to gain a better grasp of the tenets of our faith. The idea is to come to an understanding of God that is solid--that stands the tests of our incessant questioning and thoughtful doubts. 

What have you read that has nurtured your intellectual understanding of God and so fed your faith?

#2 Make it Personal. Many of us come from a faith tradition with a wealth of intellectual treasure to read and a very complete catechism. Putting the first tool to work isn't challenging. In our lifetimes, we'd never have enough time to read all there is out there. But the second tool is perhaps more challenging. The second tool requires that we allow ourselves intimacy with God. For many of us, intimacy with anyone--genuine, soul-baring intense closeness--is very difficult. And so, prayer is difficult also.

Dr. Meeker writes,that "we must also allow a certain openness and availability to God if faith is to be personal. Herein is where the exchange begins. Prayer begins this communication. In the quiet of our rooms, the car or in bed at 3 A.M., the conversation begins. It is God and us. We begin by asking questions or simply by saying “hello.” Sometimes we scream or cry; other times we simply ask if He is real or if, perhaps, we are sharing our innermost hopes with nothing but the cosmic void. Then we wait. Over time, we pray again and again and tell God that we need to know if He is there or not. Then we wait again. What we learn through the prayer and the waiting is the beginning of faith. If we have cultivated a prayer of meditation life with God we can instinctively slide into a conversation in prayer for comfort and help when the real tough stuff  happens."

How have you found fruitful prayer?

What are some ways to overcome spiritual dry spells?

#3 Find Community. Ah. Community. All the introverts run;-) In all seriousness, community is for some us the greatest struggle. And, sadly, it is in faith communities where a great deal of hurt and sorrow can happen. There is unique pain that comes with being wounded in a community of believers and when we are hurt, there is an instinct to run and to isolate our faith, walling off just one woman and her God, in order to avoid the possiblity of further hurt or disillusionment in a community of Christians. Just knowing that pain is possible causes women to refrain from intimate relationships with other believers. 

Still, we are created to worship in community and to find Him in community. Where two or more gather in His name, He is truly there in the midst of them. It helps, I think, to be humble as we seek community, to genuinely understand that, as Dr. Meeker puts it, "others in a faith community teach us about the character of God. As believers who long to adopt His character and follow His directives, they reflect who He is. The love that God feels for them will move into them and then we who sit in the pews next to them or who pray beside them will mysteriously soak in some of His love. In a faith community, each of us learns more about God, people, humanity, and acceptance than anywhere else on the planet."

That scenario is, of course, the ideal. {Our faith communities often offer us opportunities to learn about forgiveness and the need for a savior as well.} I think it's important to bear in mind that the body of Christ is large and it's universal. Good, faithful, holy people who can teach us about the character of Christ can look very different from one another. There are different charisms in a universal Church and there is a place--a good fit, a good community, a close family of brothers and sisters-- for each of us.

Dr. Meeker asks,  "Think about your faith community. Who does it include?  How does it help to continually reinforce and solidify your faith?  How does it benefit and influence your family life?"

#4 Serve. "Over our lifetime, the only way each of us will come to understand the value of another human being is by serving him. Giving brings about humility and humility draws us closer to God."

There are so many ways to serve! The reality is that when our children are young, our concentrated efforts at service will be feeding the hungry and clothing the naked in our own homes. Sometimes, the only service you can muster for a three month stretch of time is consuming essential nutrients and keeping them down long enough to nourish the baby growing in your belly. Those are genuine acts of service. They count. And they bring you closer to God in a way almost no other experience can. 

It is vital to our souls that we bring to God our desire to serve and ask Him where He would have us work. Then, we beg the grace to all He wants.

Where can you best be of service? Can you share some ways you've served with your family? Do you and your husband share an apostolate outside your home?

The rest of our discussions of  The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Reclaiming our Passion, Purpose, and Sanity can be found here. The first two conversations are 

Part 1(discussing Habit 1)

Part 2 (still discussing Habit 1)

Part 3 (still more on Habit 1)

Part 4 (Habit 2: key friendships)

Part 5 (Habit 2: your thoughts on friendship_

The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Joy, Peace, and Contentment

{The second post in a book study series on The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Reclaiming our Passion, Purpose, and Sanity.}

Last week, as our discussion of  The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers began, I was struck by something Andrea wrote in the comments. I sort of carried it around with me all week and let it run around in my head and bounce off my heart. She wrote:

Elizabeth it is very helpful to have your perspective, as the homeschooling mother of many, to add to this book.
I just finished reading this first habit and came away feeling as if I can actually give myself permission to investigate my other gifts. I was married at 20 with a baby along 9 months later, I have been nothing except a stay-at-home mama for my entire adult life, the children have come steadily since then and I see no end in sight now - I'm not even 30 yet. Immediately I had to stuff down all of my personal talents, goals, & things that I enjoyed to give myself to my children and husband at 100%. Now that I'm in the legitimate throes of homeschooling as well, it's become even harder to remember the gifts and talents that God gave to define me as a human being. It's really something to pray about.

 
I don't find competitive thinking toward other women or moms that challenging, I am actually not a very competitive person. But I loved her thoughts on humility, it has encouraged me to have peace with the kind of mom that I am, verses the kind that I think that I should be (perfect in all ways, of course). 

To Andrea, I replied:

Andrea, I've been thinking about this comment pretty much nonstop since you first posted it. I think that for me, my gifts outside of motherhood collided with motherhood pretty neatly. I was a kindergarten teacher before having children and then I quit to stay home and homeschool. Now, I'm on the brink of not having a kindergartner in my home in just a few years. I'm feeling a wee bit of panic. I won't go back to teaching any time soon--I still have lots of children left to raise and educate. But I can see that it's time to begin to explore other gifts or other venues for my passions. And I can see that my passion for early childhood may have to be put on hold for a season (until I return to the classroom or have grandchildren;-).

It's not that I suddenly have oodles of free time because my "baby" is nearly three, but there has been a significant shift and I'm trying to find the grace in the shift. I think for you the challenge is finding ways to utilize your personal talents within your home and mothering, not to stuff them. Don't stuff them! We are warned not to bury our gifts.

I think the other point this brings to light is that everyone's mothering and everyone's homemaking and the crafting of each family will look different--should look different--because we do bring different and unique gifts to the task. So, now matter where you are in your mothering, the challenge is to find the you God created and bring it to your home.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that this notion of bringing our unique gifts to our mothering and homemaking experience--whether we are working fulltime outside the home or homeschooling ten children--is necessary and vital to our peace and contentment within ourselves. If we take the time to understand our unique gifts for what they are--God's instruments for us to use for His glory--and then we pour that into the daily round of our loves, we will be content. He will bless that faithfulness. Furthermore, we won't compare and we won't compete. How could we compete? Understanding that we are each uniquely gifted and that we are mothers of children who are each uniquely gifted, we embrace the diversity in our friendships and learn from one another.

At the end of the first chapter, Dr. Meeker shares the wisdom of an older woman. I am learning to see the value of such wisdom more and more. I truly appreciate a mom who has seen this job of childrearing through to full adulthood and who can honestly help me to see my current stage of life from her perspective. When asked how she has the energy to serve cheerfully, Carol, Dr. Meeker's example, says, "It isn't about age. It's not about ability, talent, or even personality. Doing what I do--and I've been doing this for a number of years now--is about attitude. I'm good at helping these folks. I fit here. I was born to help and to love these people. And they need me. I believe that when you love the life you're supposed to be living and you happen on the deep meaning of your life, it works. The energy comes, you get bolder, and you live less fearfully. Knowing who you are and living what you were born to do, that's the good stuff. This is it, right here, right now, and I'm not going to miss it."

Here's the thing: what is the life you're supposed to be living? What is the big picture? To what vocation does He call you? But what are the little pictures, too? What are the things that happen every day that God allows in our lives for our good? Joy--deep down, peaceful joy--comes when we stop struggling against God's will. It comes when we see that though we may be hit over the head with crushing adversity, with things like illness and death and poverty, He is there. It's not that we don't feel disappointment and sorrow. We aren't called to be plastic people with no depth or dimension. We do feel it. We do sorrow. We are empathetic.

But we are faithful. We know, because we have been open to seeing it again and again, that He is always and only good. And that He always and only brings great good out of a bad situation.

I got in the car yesterday and it was literally 100 degrees outside. I can't imagine what it was in the car. And the car stunk. It stunk like cleats, and sweaty shirts, and dirty socks. And McDonald's trash. I had a little pity party. Why am I always surrounded by stink? Why was I  35 minutes late getting into the car to run errands that would certainly require me to stand in lines with grouchy people in ridiculous heat? I reached over to hurl (yes, I'm sure I was going to hurl) a shinguard into the back seat. And there, God had left me a love note:

 

{Patrick's shinguard.

9/1 was the day Bryce Mitchell died. And it was the day God reached down and made Himself known very personally to Patrick.}

He has a plan and we are at peace when we trust that plan and seek to know His will. Even in the little moments. Even in the car that broke down and threw off the schedule for the whole day. Even in the bad news on the job front. Even in the lost passport that means you can't catch that flight. All grace. The difference between living a life of bitterness and anger and a life of quiet, genuine joy is being receptive to the abundant grace that He pours out to those who trust in His plan. As women, we are uniquely gifted and exquisitely created to be receptive. Can we open ourselves to the Creator himself?

Can we allow Him to truly make of our lives what He intends?

~*~*~~*~*~

Feel free to chat below (comments are moderated, so it might take some time before you see yours appear), either adding your thoughts here directly or linking to a post on your own blog. Do take a moment to thoughtfully consider the comments on last week's post. There's much to think about there and several links to more food for though.  Now it's time for me to go about the rest of my day, peaceful in the knowledge that God created me for these children and this good man. And that's enough. Really.

Before the Feast of St. Anne

I meant to share this post from the archives with you yesterday, so that you could begin the novena then if you liked. But the day got away from me. You can still begin the novena today and finish on the feast. I did want to post one update to the post below. I shared here how fruitful my novena to St. Anne was last year, with regard to the nitty gritty of our lives. I think that mothers are naturally considering the management of their homes and their schedules this time of year. For me, forever more, that will a St. Anne thing. I heartily encourage you to offer it all o St. Anne to bring before our Lord. 

Sometimes, a saint finds you.

And those are very, very special times, indeed. Two years ago, around this time, St. Anne found me and I will be forever grateful.   There is no saint more dear to my heart, nor more frequently invoked by me than the grandmother of our Lord. She walks beside me, whispers in my ear, and makes sure I get my laundry done! My binder of St. Anne prayers is well-worn and nearly memorized.

July 26th, the Feast of St. Anne and St. Joachim,was a Sunday last year and it found me in a beautiful new church at the baptism of my godson, John (Marisa never did blog the day--I might have to do that for her;-). And every prayer we prayed there went to Louisiana, too, where Bryce Mitchell was being baptized.

July this year finds me taking up my binder of prayers once again, not for a pregnancy this time, just for the comfort of knowing that such a dear mother is listening and praying and interceding. Tradition teaches us what we know about St. Anne and her husband, St. Joachim. I think though, that some saints come to be known even more dearly in our prayers. It is in praying with St. Anne that I have grown to love her.

I've included here for you a copy of my favorite, now very familiar prayers. There are short daily prayers, a chaplet explanation, a litany, and two different novenas. Depending on whether you want to finish on the feast or the day before, you want to start a novena on the 17th or 18th. My St. Anne chaplet broke a few weeks ago, so I do plan to spend these days of preparation for the feast repairing it. Alice Cantrell provides a lovely illustrated tutorial here,should you want to try your hand a crafting this beautiful aid to prayer. I have found that handwork that aids our prayer are the crafts that are most treasured and beneficial in our home. We don't always bead a chaplet, of course, but decorating a vase to fill with flowers next to a saint's icon, or pouring or dipping or decorating a candle to be lit on the feast are also favorite, simple, meaningful family traditions. And sometimes, there is no craft at all.

In our family, we celebrate a name day on St. Anne's feast. There was considerable argument around our dinner table when we discussed what to name our baby girl. It was settled by giving her both names: Sarah and Anne. (To this day, two of her brothers have yet to call her "Sarah." They only call her "Annie.") My mother, Mike's mother, my stepmother, and I all share Sarah's middle name. But only Sarah Anne gets the extra "e":-). And oh, how we love to celebrate Sarah Annie!

Our family looks forward to feast days with quiet, familiar joy. As a child grows, the day takes on its own traditions because the child begins to make it his own. For instance, the Feast of St. Michael around here always smells like incense and a kahlua devil's food cake baking in the oven. That has been Michael's preference for as long as I can remember. For the longest time, we had pizza on the Feast of St. Patrick because Paddy insisted on it.

St. Anne's feast will begin for me as all days do, with the Liturgy of the Hours. I'll pray the Morning Prayer and Office of Readings by myself in the quiet of the dawn. Both prayers bring me into the celebration of the feast with the universal Church. I will light a special candle, put her statue and her icon on our little prayer desk, and make sure that the children notice when they awaken. Then, it's up and out the door. The true "feast" is the Eucharist and we are fortunate to be able to go to daily Mass on feast days, where we celebrate the feast with the community of God. Father delights our children by always, always speaking about "their" saints. Usually, there is a special blessing after Mass for the name day child, as well. And there might be donuts on the way home, too;-).

Sarah Anne is just old enough that she might be able to express her preference for dinner and dessert as is our family custom. Already the lobbying has begun as certain brothers try to persuade her that her favorite dinner resembles their favorite dinner. Almost certainly, there will be chocolate for dessert. Sarah Anne is a big fan of chocolate. 

The day will end for my sweet Sarah Annie with more of that heavenly scent, this time it's St. Anne soap and lotion (as much a treat for me as for my baby). Sweet dreams, my darling girl; your heavenly grandmother continues to be so very good to us. Blessed, we are, those of us whose name means "grace."

St. Anne prayers and devotions:

Download Prayers to St Anne