Sometimes it’s hard to admit we may need help with our home school.
Understandably, we may be overwhelmed with a curriculum choice, lesson plan, need for organization, home school itself, or the motivation to want to teach class. It is during hard times such as these that we should ask for help. Too often, as home school parents, we feel the pressure to ‘measure up’ with other home educators whom we feel have it all together, so we don’t ask for help. We stubbornly or pridefully persist in finding our own solution; and we continue to sink, possibly getting in over our heads before reaching out. This reminds me of an experience I had, related to this observation.
It seemed like a very simple plan. We were studying a unit on biology, and I decided to take full advantage that our house fronted a lake. We’d just purchased a brand new microscope. I decided to give my children a new experience, to see a little bit of pond life and an amazing creature called the amoeba.
I explained all of this to them as I pulled on my husband’s rubber fishing boots. (Little did I now that this was mistake number one, the boots were way too big.)
Once I was ready, I walked out to the backyard with six laughing, shouting, and very excited children running ahead. (“See,” I thought to myself, “I knew I could make biology fun!”)
Stay on the Bank
Giving the kids one final encouraging warning, “STAY ON THE BANK,” I waded into the lake, specimen jar in hand, while envisioning what impact this type of hands-on experiment would have on their learning and possibly their future career choices. Then it happened. As I took my third step into the water, I felt one foot begin to sink just a tad deeper than the other. I quickly steadied myself, so as not to plunge headlong into the murky lake. But, I was in trouble. As I attempted to bring my left foot even with my right, I felt my foot coming out of the boot, so I pushed my foot back into the boot to try to put it firmly back on. (This was mistake number two – trying to force my foot back into the boot only caused it to sink deeper into the mud.)
Still undeterred, I decided to pivot on my right foot and place it evenly with the left and head another way.
Yet, to no avail, for the right foot was sliding out of that boot as well. To my horror, my big boots were stuck in the mud, and with a maneuver in either direction, I felt myself sinking.
While trying to remain calm (and trying to look cool), realizing the children were closely watching my every move, I tried to think of a plan of action that did not include yelling for my husband. I couldn’t think of one.
My feet were not going anywhere, no matter how tightly I curled my toes to try and lift the big boots up. So, now, not quite so calmly, I shouted, “Go get your dad and tell him I’m stuck in the mud out in the lake.”
Three children raced to be the first to deliver the message, and three stayed to ask if I wanted them to come in and help. Unfortunately, the tranquil learning environment I had intended had quickly turned chaotic. I saw my husband’s face as he raced out the door, and knew at once the message he’d been given might have been a bit more dramatic than necessary. The dog was barking at all the commotion, the three children who’d remained faithfully at the bank were now screaming for their father to “ hurry up” and rescue me.
To The Rescue
What a blessing my husband was, so loving and understanding of who I was. He lifted me up and pulled me out of the water, leaving the boots behind, and carried me to the bank, all the while suppressing a chuckle. He was indeed that day my hero.
We also have heroes all around us, in support groups, friends, spouses, when we feel ourselves sinking under the stresses of teaching and training our children. Yet, to have access to the greatest rescuer of them all, our heavenly Father, is the most wonderful blessing imaginable. Just as I called for my husband’s help, knowing he would come, the Father is waiting to help when we call.
Article provided by Kristine Malingowski.