Firm Foundations

To my little Loves, 

Every time we go to the pediatrician's office, the nurse asks if there are any new stressors in the family. I've always answered no. Enter Coronavirus, now I feel like I have an entire list to go through beginning with the death of our beloved pet, COVID, the decision to homeschool, and all the things in between. This has been such a raw year; we are riding the emotional roller coaster of this pandemic. I think the greatest lesson learned so far is the arduous process of letting go. We have been asked to let go of so much during this pandemic: school, community, grief, family.

We lost our family pet at the beginning of the year. I was deeply struck by the realization that as parents we are entrusted with teaching you EVERYTHING.  I don't mean the basics like walking, getting along with siblings, and schooling. I mean we have to lay the foundation for processing the big emotions--emotions that most adults have difficulty getting through. Grief was not a skill I expected to teach; it was never on my radar, especially at such a young age. But there we were, having in-depth discussions and navigating big sorrowful waves of emotion. Losing Gilly was your first experience in losing a loved one.  Not one of you grieved in the same way, each had a vastly different way of handling the process.  I've watched some of you deal with such sorrow in anger, others with confusion, and still others with great sadness. Every step of the way we worked through this new process and pain as family.


Before you four were born, your father and I had many discussions about your education and carefully laid out THE plan. In retrospect, our journey with schooling has been one detour after another.  I've let go of plan after a plan, and after carefully discerning and reading and reading, we have scrapped THE plan and have committed ourselves to homeschool. It was not a commitment that came easily.  It was a bittersweet process of letting go of a school that we considered our home, while looking forward to and feeling hopeful about the opportunity to teach you this coming year. Intuitively, I know our experiences at our table will be just as wonderful as the previous one and incredibly meaningful to all of us.  


As I sit here, I can’t help but reflect and feel that the beginning of the year foreshadowed what was to come. I’ve felt a weight on my shoulders, thinking now more than ever I must teach ALL the things. In preparation for our new journey, I was reading Teaching From Rest. Sarah Makenzie spoke to my soul, when she writes,

"... It is so exhausting-sometimes even demoralizing-to realize that our work raising up and teaching our children is never really done. But we must remember that we were never intended to finish it..." Sarah Mackenzie, Teaching From Rest. 

These words have resonated so deeply within me, I'm seeing its theme vibrate across many strings in my life and home, even through the processes of grief and relinquishing of control. 

The author uses an analogy of the medieval cathedral builders and how they would toil away building these beautiful structures, knowing they would never see the finished product. Regardless, they did so with joy and labored with great care.  My job is very similar; we are at a new beginning, as we crack open our curriculum and have discussions at our kitchen table, I am carefully laying down the foundations, all the while knowing that your life and faith will finish what I am so meticulously building now. Brick by brick,  we will learn how to work through big emotions right along with our phonics and subtraction.  It is my fervent prayer as your mother, that when our time to gather at the table is over,  you have a sturdy foundation to house your beautiful cathedral. I would be lying if I said I didn’t long to see it finished in its complete and utter entirety. But I must remember, I was never intended to finish it. 

Mom


Welcome to Artifact Motherhood. This is a collaboration of artists from around the world who have come together to share our stories of the joys and struggles of our journey. Through our writings and visual records, we want to create memories that are more than photographs with dates written on the back. These are the artifacts we are leaving behind for our children and for generations to come. Up next is the amazingly talented Jo Haycock click here to follow the link.