preparing for a new school year

The end of the summer is a time of gearing up in our home, as it is in most homes, I suppose.

I also find that it's consistently a time of reflection for me.

When we close the books in late May each spring, I am too glad to be done with the school year for much consideration or analysis of any kind! That always comes a few months later as I clean out the school shelves in preparation for new arrivals (yes, I admit to being the mom who simply closes the cupboard door instead of putting things away properly on that final school day!), as I revamp the chore charts and consider areas my children have grown in and areas they yet need to progress in, as I begin to mull over what our priorities for this year should be based on what worked and didn't work last year, as I wrap my mind around the fact that my children are growing at the speed of light and-- oh!-- my heart might break as I try to keep up.

our school cupboard: nothing beautiful or professional or earth-shattering, but it works.

I feel like I learned a lot last year.

About how to manage the needs of the varying ages in my home. About how to prioritize the one struggling to read even though I just want to pore over the history books and articles with my oldest one. About how to pace ourselves so that learning and school is a success. About how to set individual and unique goals for each one. About how to ask for help when I just don't know how.

But now it's time for a new year.

I sit down and process. Lists start flowing. Books get ordered when necessary and requested from the library when possible. In one fell swoop I empty the school shelves and throw almost everything I possibly can away: workbooks from last year that represent hard work and character formed and minds applied fill the trash bin to overflowing. The chore chart gets rearranged in order to stretch and challenge each child a bit more so that they can be shaped a bit more into the young man/woman they are becoming.

our daily guide and objectives-- I took time this year to make one for each child since I'm realizing my older children, in particular, benefit from knowing ahead of time what I more or less expect from them each day.
 

This year, though, along with the dreams and goals and visions I have of what I want to see in them, I am acutely and almost painfully aware of what I want to see in me.

I want to lead in kindness.
I want to liberally praise growth and effort and good works.
I want to instruct patiently.
I want to laugh more.
I want to pull the little ones close and read one more book every. single. day.
I want to hold my tongue.
I want to be thankful.
I want to be quicker to pray and slower to lecture.

Eight years ago, when Jackson was just a baby, I heard a wise woman speak about how we bring our children home to change them, but God brings them home to change us.

I feel this so strong: I want to look more like Jesus this year.

And as acutely aware I am of how much growth I need, I am equally aware of how unable I am to produce this in myself. This is Holy Spirit fruit.

I am His pupil and He is the teacher. He gives me my curriculum:

Draw near to God.
Abide in the vine.
Keep His commands.
Come boldly before the throne of grace.
Walk in the way in which you were called.
Delight in His law.
Give thanks in everything.
Pray without ceasing.

I am thankful that He is the Good Teacher; the Faithful Father; the Completer; the Provision I need. I cling to this promise that as I give myself to the process, He is the Potter and He is at work in me.

There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.

Philippians 1:6, The Message