~ A Great Way To End a School Year

I started the school year with a bit of trepidation, this first year of schooling at home.

Would I remember how to teach?

It had been 22 years since I ran my own classroom.

Would my children cooperate and see and respect me as their teacher?

Would they beg to go back to their respective schools?

I knew God had called us to this. I knew He would carry us through it.

After a year of great Bible discussions, rich literature, learning a new language and beginning music training, not to mention the essentials of a great education, I have to say it feels more like starting a new life than just teaching school.

And when they say to me, "Mom, we are homeschooling again next year, right?", I breathe a deep sigh of relief, and I offer whispered prayers of gratitude for this extreme priviledge of getting to watch them become all that He wants them to be!

To celebrate the boys' hard work, we spent the last day of school at the Milwaukee Public Museum with another homeschooling family (friends of ours). We went specifically to see the butterflies as we had just ended our year studying butterflies.

It was a great ending to a great year!

~ When Your Arms Are Overflowing

"I opened the window to let the fresh air in

And continued to work away the day,

Painting walls and filling shelves just so,

Until the wind blew and took my breath away.

The lilacs seemed to dance across the room

Reminding me of sweeter things to come...

Empty arms and aching heart no more...

When will this child I've longed for come home?"

I remember standing in an empty nursery in the spring of 1998 after 11 years of infertility wondering when God would answer our prayers.

One month later, on June 24, 1998, my first child arrived .

And they just kept coming!

"He gives the barren woman healing. She'll dance with joy like the mother of children." ~ from There's No One Like Our God

Pictures taken Mother's Day 2011. Lyrics are from a song called "Carried Away on a Breeze".

That's My Mom!

This morning before church, I sat down next to my oldest son. As I crossed my legs, I bumped his shoe, and we compared shoe sizes. His shoe was bigger than mine. Now obviously, my foot is bigger than his. He's only 13. But he was wearing bulky tennis shoes, and I had on dainty sandals. The thought crossed my mind that it won't be long 'til his foot will fill my shoe. In the next moment, I had this thought:

I'm 46 years old, and I still can't fill my mom's shoes.

Oh sure, I've borrowed her shoes when we go to visit, and they fit just fine (Although, I'll never understand where she got that dainty narrow foot. My toes do pinch a little.)

And yes, I've inherited pairs of shoes she bought in a daring moment and then was too chicken to wear said she just didn't wear them that much.

And I confess, there have probably been times (early in life) when I stole shoes from her closet, and they ended up in mine. (I'm sure that happened once or twice.)

When I say I can't fill her shoes, I'm not talking about the size of my feet.

I'm talking about the enormous role she has played in my life. I'm talking about her enormous heart.

She is amazing.

She is a server,

a giver,

an encourager,

a truth teller,

an intercessor,

a great example of a Godly woman.

She is always faithful,

fiercely loyal,

and deserves a crown in heaven for her patience.

She has seen tragedy and sadness and disappointment in her life, but there is no hint of anger or bitterness in her.

On the contrary, she is full of grace and forgiveness and acceptance, always ready to give testimony to God's amazing grace in her own life.

And if that's not proof enough that she's the greatest mom in the world, how 'bout this:

She's an awesome cook!

Anyone who knows my mom counts themselves lucky to eat at her table. (She cooks in her spare time - for fun!)

Still not convinced.

She smells really good, too!

(One of my sons came home after being at her house and said with a smile on his face, "Mmm! Mom my pillow smells like Granny!" He was right. It did!)

I may never be able to "fill her shoes", but I hope someday my children will feel the same way about me that I feel about her.

I hope someday they can say,

"That's my mom, and she's my best friend."

I love you, mom! Happy Mother's Day!