I’m so excited to spend this evening with the ladies of Southside Methodist, Jacksonville sharing God’s faithfulness in their Summer Salads series.
Some folks just see life differently
Overheard during quiet time/reading time —
Annalise: Look mom, they’re doing sign language to each other.(shows me her book)
Me: Uh-huh.
Matt: Let me see?
Matt: No, that’s not sign language. (It wasn’t. Not even close to sign language).
Annalise: Well, it is to me.
Homeschool: Planning for High School
Whether you’re just starting out or you’ve been homeschooling kids since kindergarten, thinking about homeschooling through the high school years is daunting. What records will you need? Can lab sciences and pre-calc really be done at home? Even though thousands of other homeschoolers have graduated and gone on to successful post-high school experiences, it can still seem like a grand experiment until you’ve graduated your own child.
I have found there are five keys to high school planning. I’m over at Sandbox to Socrates, a classical ed blog, talking about these five ways to sketch out a high school plan.
A {Biblical} Lesson in Gardening
Some of the 29 gallons we picked.
I love June because it means blueberries are in season. Nearly every year since our children were young, we’ve hunted up a local farm to u-pick blueberries. In Florida, it gets hot and buggy so we always start the morning early. Family rule is everyone has to pick a bucket to earn a ride home! Thankfully, only buckets — not people — are weighed so we get to taste which trees have the best fruit.
This year we went to the farm managed by someone in our church. She and her husband are new at blueberry farming and began managing the blueberries a few years ago. We chatted about the year’s production as we weighed our berries and I wrote a check. We talked about last year’s crop and the year’s before.
She said their best blueberry season was about three years ago. She and her husband had pruned the trees way back. The next year wasn’t a great year. The trees had great new growth after the pruning but the growth had not yet produced berries. But the following year, that new growth budded and blossomed into a banner harvest. As she relayed their experience, I thought of John 15:
I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.
Even branches that bear fruit get pruned. Why, because the farmer doesn’t like the fruit? Or he’s just out to make it difficult for the plants? No. A seasoned farmer knows that pruning plants is THE WAY to produce more fruit.
As this friend explained, fertilizer is necessary. There also needs to be rain, but not too much and the weather must cooperate as well — a couple months just cold enough but not too cold to kill the blooms. But only pruning will really get the bush to produce an abundant crop.
Jesus tells us that same principle applies to us. I’m not really crazy about the pruning. I like the fruit just fine, but the pruning, well, I actually pray against that. Lord, please let my finances work out. Please get a renter for that house. Please make this hard thing go away.
But, our loving Vinedresser, God the Father, prunes in love. He prunes every branch that is already bearing fruit. A perfect Vinedresser, He prunes with perfection, never to damage but to make us bud and blossom with abundant fruit.
And here’s the kicker. It’s not a one time deal. Just as the farmer will prune his trees again and again over the life of the plant to encourage regular, abundant fruit, we should expect pruning delivered and allowed by the Sovereign hand of our Vinedresser,
By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.
Glimpses of Joy
The days were so painful that I wondered whether I would ever feel joy again.
Nights were actually okay. Blessed sleep meant getting away from the reality of life without Dan. I’m so grateful that I had no trouble sleeping. And I owe most of that to faithful praying friends. But I also owe that to pure exhaustion: days were filled with a way-too-long to-do list and I was now one parent doing for seven kids. Nights were a welcome relief from the terrible missing. But every morning as the alarm would sound, I’d leave the sweet relief of sleep and confront the day: Dan is gone. This is life. Gotta get up, Lisa. I cannot do this Lord.
Grief doesn’t just run you down with sadness and despair. It steals every bit of interest in the outside world. I didn’t care about trying new recipes or reading the latest bestseller or re-doing the girls’ room. I didn’t pick up one homeschooling catalog and could have cared less about what was going on politically.
The only thing I craved was God’s Word. That was my very food. And, of course, I was deeply interested in my kids and how they were coping. But the things of this world had grown strangely dim. In the middle of a life shattered, you hope there will be joy again — you count on it –but how long will it take?
Our first test was two weeks after Dan died. It was Rachel’s 18th birthday and should have been a mile marker birthday celebration. I couldn’t muster a cell in my body to celebrate.
That morning, I wearily opened my Bible to my reading for the day:
When the Lord brought back the captives to Zion, we were like men who dreamed. Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.” The LORD has done great things for us and we are filled with joy. Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like streams in the Negev. Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him. Psalm 126
You better believe I wrote the date and our name next to those verses. To the Lord I cried out, “How long? I believe in my heart you will restore our joy but it hurts so much. I miss Dan so much. And I cannot fill the huge hole left in seven kids’ hearts.”
God, in His goodness and mercy, answered that weak prayer lifted with a grain of hope.
That night, a sweet family in our church brought us a meal. The whole family came in, sat on our couch and loved on us. We owe much of God’s healing to the precious fellowship we had night after night as families, in the midst of their busy lives, brought us dinner.
After dinner, we all headed out to a local spot for Christian ballroom dancing. I hadn’t planned one detail, but Facebook had done its work and Rachel’s dearest friends turned out for her 18th birthday. Love, not details, make a celebration.
Everyone, even my boys, wore pink to celebrate with Rachel. Friends brought pink balloons, two friends brought pink homemade cakes and another brought a dozen pink roses. Even the four- and six-year-old got to stay up past midnight with us. Watching Rachel ballroom dance with her brothers and friends, I caught myself smiling. And when we finally loaded into the car with balloons and roses and cards, Rachel said it had been one of her best birthdays.
As she spoke those words, I was amazed at how quickly and personally God had answered. We would not have to wait months for joy. God, in His goodness, brought joy right in the midst of grief. There is pain, yes. But there is LIFE. And the promise that if we keep sowing, even with tears, God will give us songs of joy.
