I am unsurprised that when we closed the door to babies a few years ago, desires grew beyond my home responsibilities.

I was out of survival mode.

Keeping six young kids fed, rested, and safe was easily a full-time job and a couple of part-time jobs combined in harder seasons.

While life is still full, this is mostly my choice and no longer filled up with meeting the most basic survival needs.

For many years, my jogging stroller contraption was my ticket to any sense of “silence” and “solitude.”

Those words are in quotation marks because this setting is not the true definition of either. I had to keep my expectations low, so I didn't get frustrated by inevitable interruptions.

Hours were not flying by when I had six children eight years and under, but I had it pretty good.

My babies slept in a separate room within days of being born, and most of them consistently slept through the night within a few months, though my last one pushed the envelope here.

Still, there was always the possibility of an interruption (or more) on any given night—a reality of six young children.

There was no one to put me to bed while my husband was away on a backpacking trip this summer, so there I was at 11 PM eating the chocolate almonds he left under my pillow and scrolling through homeschool videos on YouTube:

Do I have enough planned for this next school year?

I could try this curriculum…

We really should learn another language…

Why not beautify our cursive writing?

Pause. Breathe. Remember, Charlene.

Be With Me

I wish I could call my dad, like I did every day when he was in the hospital, and talk our way through all of this—cancer, suffering, death.
But this is the mystery Bill Johnson spoke about just days after his wife’s passing. My dad’s childlike faith and trust right up until his final breath revealed how he understood his identity in Christ. He didn’t need answers, even though it hurt him deeply to leave so soon, he knew there was a bigger story at play.

I've never left a funeral without more gratitude for my life and a desire to suck the marrow out of every day—to embrace all of humanity with affection and hope.

The veil between life and death is even thinner when you lose someone you never imagined your life without.

You become vigilant to accept the things you can't change, to change the things you can, and to pray for the wisdom to know the difference (from the Serenity Prayer).

Hidden away in our storage room is a massive bin of time capsules. These are my journals consisting of messy writing, desperate prayers, and useless details, along with my dated day planners holding menial tasks, including which days I washed my hair—thank you dry shampoo!

But they also chart a path through the terrain of a heart growing from a child to a woman and a wife to a mother.

These bound pages tucked away as keepsakes are intricate maps revealing struggles and successes.

It was happening again.

She was shut down like a clam, no budging, no words, no engagement. This was the perfect opportunity to practice what I was learning and I could hear author Jennifer Kolari’s wise words:

Connect before you correct!

Mirroring the emotions of my children is not my first instinct.

Drilling down on the outward behavior, the unintentional disrespect, and the time being lost is more natural. I want to make everything right as fast as possible.

But this time I didn’t rush the process.

This time I made space for her to breathe as we slowed down together.

I asked questions, reflected on her emotions, and mirrored her feelings. I created a safe place.

Do you desire peace in your home far deeper than clean surfaces and ordered closets?

I know I do.

While those things do bring me a level of peace, I love what Kendra Adachi in The Lazy Genius Way says:

“Efficient systems fail to deliver if they’re implemented without kindness.”

I am grateful to say that after years of struggle and restarts our family usually reflects realistic daily rhythms of work and rest in a loving and functional home.

We don't get this perfect every day, and I still obsess about straightening my throw cushions instead of connecting with a child’s heart—but we are all growing!

When the beginning is marked with plus signs, flutters, and first breaths, the end is oh so quiet.

Like the final time I held my toddler to breastfeed, or when I unknowingly stuffed a dirty diaper down the diaper genie for the last time, or when the crib slid out the door in pieces on Mother’s Day weekend.

My sixth baby is turning three this month and over the last year, I have said goodbye to a decade of birthing babies.

Do you sometimes feel unclear on what you are doing, or do you struggle with decision-making?

I do.

And then I return to my roots and reevaluate everything.

Creating a clear vision will help us dance into this next season, so we can set boundaries and make commitments with discernment and even joy.

Camping is one of our family's favorite ways to bond. But puke, poop, pee, sick-babies, sand, smoke, mud, cold weather, and bug bites means bonding isn’t always bliss.

Camping with young children is not easy but it is worth it!

As grubby fingers reach out to you at the campfire, as eyes widen with the discovery of a new creature, as your once babies cheer for you at the bottom of a steep bike trail and as children of every age cuddle up for another chapter, you are assured these messy adventures are the magic they need—we need!

Many nights I'd knock on my parents' door to process my heart's questions or struggles. One night, as my parents were quietly praying for me, I knocked on their door. The Holy Spirit had convicted me to apologize after a rough day.

In the safety of our homes, we get to teach our children how to handle freedom and choice!

But first, we need to manage our anxiety so we can protect our connection.

Have you heard the one about the mom who can’t sleep and runs on coffee before noon and wine after noon? Well, it’s not funny to me. Far too many mothers are chronically stressed and sleep-deprived. I’ve had enough. These mothers deserve support, not to be left to suffer alone.

If you’re a mom who wants to drink coffee and wine daily—absolutely no judgment here. However, you should not feel like you must fuel with caffeine and alcohol just to get by.

Moms deserve to sleep well, to enjoy life, not suffer through it.

Last month my three girls came across the kindling for our next family adventure—our audio version of Anne of Green Gables!

I was tickled by how taken they were by Anne ‘with an E'.

Their delight and questions grew as they flipped through the storybook my mom brought back from PEI a few summers ago.

I decided to present them with the DVD set I had tucked away.

We did not expect to tear up last Sunday night during out final session of LAUNCH into the teen years. The last scene, around a campfire, spoke to the amazing gift of sex and marriage within godly boundaries.

We so deeply desire this joy and freedom for our children and our hearts ached with this hope and prayer as we closed out the session.

I know—sharpened pencils and crisp books tease. Maybe this year we can do all the things and with happy hearts!  Experiments and reports.  Poetry tea time with homemade muffins.

Then history haunts us with our dark moments.

Whether at home, at school, or some new hybrid:

Impatience blending letter sounds, frustration long dividing, confusion logging in, and despair sopping up toddler disasters or a teen’s tears...

We feel the tightness in our backs, stomachs or heads as we try to decide on the right educational opportunities for our children and family in the midst of overwhelm and worldwide uncertainty. 

After you have chosen the path to home educate you may start searching for resources and discover how bountiful the materials are—decision fatigue could easily set in!

I've seen looks of pity, confusion and also admiration when people hear that we educate our children at home.   When the COVID-19 crisis started, families became homeschoolers overnight, and goodness we all know being pushed onto a path you didn't choose is frustrating.

If you are celebrating your district’s reopening of schools or are in a totally different season of life, please translate this conversation to a situation where you need to define your WHY.