To Know God and To Make God Known

I am realizing more and more that the very things in life I have wished away or asked God to take away from me, have been the very gifts that have saved me, transformed me, grown me and shaped me into a better person.

One such gift has been my son. From the time he was a baby he had so many digestive issues and I remember asking God, "Why can't my son just eat normal food like everyone else?" Why can't he do this?" "Why does he do that?" I couldn't go on like this. In all perilous honesty, I began to resent my son and God. Life felt so overwhelming with the constant literature of food labels and ingredients that I would have to consume while just simply shopping for every day groceries and juggling two toddlers in a race car shopping cart. As you can imagine, that made for a grueling morning out just to stock our fridge. I actually began having panic attacks and would just leave a full cart of groceries abandoned in aisle 7.

Then I heard a voice say "Erin, what can you learn from this?" "What are you supposed to gain from this suffering?" Everything changed. Life did not become easier but I began to take each challenge on as if it were my homework assignment personally handed to me by my favorite college professor. Through that wisdom not only did my son's diet change but our entire family has benefited from it. So how has this food path related to home school?

In the blink of an eye my son was off to kindergarten trailing right behind his older sister. His first year of kindergarten seemed successful. He had a very loving teacher who loved the kids and her job and we had no complaints. Then a deployment shook our home and our lives in a way you never quite understand until you've gone through it yourself. I had four children at the time. The oldest was 7 and the youngest 5 months and I was alone, in a foreign country and did I mention alone?

At any rate, the phone calls from the school started and I became a pub regular except this was no pub and the happy hour was less than, well, happy. Almost weekly I was summoned to conference with the school's principal and guidance counselor. Before I go any further I want to mention how wonderful they are/were and I think looking back I was lucky to have them watching over our children. However, one final meeting, forced me to force myself to examine the meaning of sacrifice and the meaning of mother hood.

With so many back and forth meetings I had begun to think that home school might be in our future but then I would push, no, violently slap that thought from my head. I would curse it and tell it to stay away. However, I could not. The home school monster was once again rearing it's ugly head.

My husband was home schooled until he was a junior in high school, went on to graduate from West Point, was well socialized and chose wisely when marrying his spouse, me (insert lots of laughter). I knew that removing a child from public school could be done in a well rounded way but I also knew I was not that sort.

I liked to look fashionable. I don't sew or make crafts. I hate glitter and glue and little pieces of cut up messes on my floor. I liked my children but I also loved the sight of that big banana of a school bus pulling up and not pulling back in for at least 8 hours. I LOVED drinking my coffee in peace and only having to juggle 2 kids, for five days a week, for a few hours a day, instead of four kids during a deployment. This sounded almost too good it was hysterical. Wait, I do sing, so home schooling could work.

Now back to what forced me to even to think about home school when I was so clearly NOT a home school mom. When the administration finally mentioned the words evaluation and medication my fear fled and my might strengthened. I knew my son liked to play alone (and never complained about it) and I was fine with that. I knew he lived in his own little world and I was ok with that. I knew that sitting and focusing in a desk with 1000 wonderful distractions for 8 hours was difficult and I was ok with that. What I also knew without a doubt was that he did NOT need medication.

In fairness, teachers do not have the ability to cater to every student and there is nothing wrong with students that can sit in a desk and get the work done that is required of them but my son was not one of them and he was also not a child that needed medication. Rather he needed a world, this world that was right at his finger tips to explore and soak in and get lost in. He needed to be ok to do his homework standing up or flopped over a chair. I also knew that my child was my responsibility and if the local school situation wasn't working out then what? Where should he be?

I left that meeting feeling hopeful and defeated. How is that even possible? I knew that this vocation of both mother and teacher was now creeping deeply beneath the surface penetrating my soul in an uneasy easy manner. I kept thinking maybe I can find one of my friends that home schools and ask her to do it. That might work but no such luck.

I cried. I cried a lot. I was so scared. Knowing my own limitations, my failures, my ignorance, my stupidity, my flaws and the fact that I only had my lowly associates degree, how was I going to sufficiently educate my child? Then the food struggle came to mind and I was lightening struck with a grace. The same familiar grace that God had given me during all of our food wars had returned. Once again I heard God's voice saying "I will teach you how to teach him." "What are you supposed to gain from this suffering?" Those words, His voice paved this path of uncertainty with silk instead of boulders.

I would by lying if I were to say I haven't looked back and if I were to declare that home school was the best and easiest decision we've ever collectively made as a family. The hard honest ridiculous truth is I absolutely hated it the first year. I was alone and trying to do everything on my own. Our curriculum was not a good fit for us and someone, one of us, cried every single day. If I wasn't crying, then my daughter was shedding enough tears for all of us. We were miserable but then I allowed God to show up once again.

We were ready to throw in the towel. I had filled out applications to a charter school in the area and was on my way to turn them in to have my children back in school by fall! Alleluia! Praise God. While on my way to the school I had turned the radio on and on the radio came the devastating news story that broke millions of hearts around our nation and perhaps the world. It was the Sandy Hook School Shooting. Tis true that our decisions can not be made or based out of fear but I felt in my core that there had to be another way. I hadn't exhausted all of my options. There were still thriving home school families out there. What are they doing or trying that I had not yet cracked the surface on?

After much prayer and consultation and to my dismay we decided to give home school one more go around and I am so glad we did. God, in all His glory, orchestrated the success we have discovered with this new curriculum and homeschooling life. We have a community. We have friends. We have joy in education. We have daily mass which my children and I enjoy immensely. We have discovered a love and respect for information the world around us and all of God's abundant creatures.

The very suffering I had hoped to avoid, that I knew I was not capable of conquering, showed up on my door step and with it came a formation and foundation of faith and love for myself, my husband, my children, my God and those around me that I never thought possible.

I am not writing this to say that children shouldn't be medicated and that homeschooling is the best alternative because I don't feel that way at all. To each their own. My motto is "How's it working for you?" If it's working then keep on keeping on. What I am saying is that I knew my son and I knew what he needed and what he didn't need and that whisper of  conviction is not only for me but for all who dare to listen. What I undoubtedly know now is that sacrifice as a mother does not end once late night feedings and diaper changes are finished or once our children reach the school and ripe old age of 18. It's forever. We never stop being parents.

We have a little saying in our Classical Conversation community and it goes like this "The mission of CC is, To Know God and to make God known." Knowing God and making God known is our first priority now above everything else. Those struggles that seemed to viciously make their way into our laps are truly our opportunity to get to personally know God but they are more than that. They are a gift, that if we dare to open, hold for us the way to holiness and sanctifying love.

Ringrazio Dio ~ Thanks be to God