A Lesson Learned in Homeschooling and Healing My Broken Heart

A Lesson Learned in Homeschooling and Healing My Broken Heart

Part 1. 

I have two incredible sons. And as their parent I think I know them deeply. Better than anyone else. Better than the authors of all the parenting books on the planet. And possibly even better than they know themselves. I have watched them and loved them and nurtured them for a long time. I have seen great talents that I don't think they are even aware lie deep within. I have seen weaknesses that threaten them.

And so as I have ventured upon homeschooling this last 12 months I have not created their educations identically. Because truth be told they’re not identical.

And as a mother, who loves these boys fiercely, knows them better than any other…the classes and experiences I choose for them are very different than the ones they would choose for themselves.

Ethan, who is bright and incredibly creative, who also lacks confidence, is terrified of speaking in front of new people and has a nervous personality gets a very different education from my precocious, outgoing son Tyler. And Tyler, who is dyslexic and endlessly curious gets a different education from Ethan.

Is this fair? Well, technically no. But I love them too much to be fair.

Ethan loves the pottery class and art classes I assign him to help his creativity grow. However, I am certain that the classes I signed him up for that require him to perform in front of audiences, the math assignments and the classes that push him so hard that he has to dig deeper than he ever has before in his life - well, I am sure that sometimes they make him pretty mad at me. He might even yell at me

"This is not fair." "Why doesn't Tyler have to take this class." "I hate this class. You are so mean."

If it were up to him he would coast completely unseen and under the radar. However, I want to give him opportunities to lead. He’s not always happy with me. And sometimes there are loud protestations and comparisons about the “unfairness” of their educations.

But the truth is, I can see some things he can't. I can see that on the other side of this he will know a strength he didn't even know he had. I can see that later as a man or missionary or father or employee or leader he will be grateful for the confidence he has. That he will grow into the man that I always saw in him.

If I let him fill his day with the classes he wants he would be temporarily happy. But stuck. And no closer to his destiny.

 Part 2. 

Some of you know and many of you do not - that I just finished a long four month grueling couple of rounds of IVF. I did some mental math and calculated that I have had 4 surgeries that require anastesia in the last 2 months. I have had a little over 60 blood draws, 20 ultrasounds, over 150 self administered injections and more creams, gels, patches, and pills than I can actually put a number on. And throughout it all there was hope. Hope of never having to do it again. Hope that it would work. Hope that I would get to give my children the thing they had been praying for. Hope that I would get to give Shawn his greatest desire. Hope for a miracle. And hope that the deep desire of my heart would finally happen. Hope for a sweet little baby to come to us.

And today my doctor called with my blood results. Negative.

But I already knew that. I knew a week and two days ago.  Ask me how I knew and I won't be able to tell you. It was just a feeling. I think I was being given time to mourn it by myself before I had to mourn it with everyone else. I am thankful for that.

The mourning part was not pretty. I am not going to sit here and paint a picture of me weeping softly in a white dress while I sit in a meadow and gaze into the horizon. 

Not sure why but that always seems to be the picture on the front of books about mourning.

 My mourning involved 3 days of sobbing. To the point that my eyes were swollen shut the next morning. It involved crying that sounded more like howling and pain so intense that it took my breath away. I am pretty sure the tears I shed were for about 10 years worth of infertility and loss. They were for the ectopic pregnancy that nearly took my life. They were for the day I watched my oldest son sob into his pillow when I told him I am sorry but I was actually no longer pregnant.

That kind of sad and pain is scary. So scary, in fact that most of my life, I stayed as far from it as I could. Shutting down my feelings. Moving on quickly and putting on a happy face. I have long since learned that on the other side of the pain - after I have allowed my heart to speak - after I have felt all that is in there - then I can feel God. I can finally feel Him and hear Him and be taught. After all the pain is the most incredible peace. 


It was a few days into this mourning and possible protestations of "This is unfair" 
that I had the thought 

"Andrea, it was never meant to be fair. I love you too much for that." 

Fair would temporarily make me happy. But stuck and no closer to my destiny. 

I like, Ethan, don't really understand this education. I really think the better plan would be for God to just give me what I want. However, I have long ago learned that God's plans for me are bigger and much more magnificent than any I could try to dream up for myself. 

Shawn is evidence of that. 

So for today I trust. Well, I try to trust. And I keep praying for miracles.