Tuesday, 15 August 2017

Robinson Crusoe: An unexpected encouragement

I had never read Robinson Crusoe until I started to read it to my sons aged 5, 7 and 8 last week. Of course I knew the basic story, about a man marooned on a deserted island for many years, and about his companion Man Friday. I'd heard re-tellings of the story, and had read The Swiss Family Robinson to the children last year, which clearly has parallels. But I had never read the original, and we have found it a treat.

I want to draw out two ways in which I have been delighted by this book.

Firstly, I must comment that I found the first few pages quite tough-going to read aloud, in terms of the literary style. The language is rich and complex, but beautiful. Initially, I was concerned that my sons might not understand it well, especially the parts where the author is describing the thoughts and reflections of the main character. However, they have rapidly adjusted to the tempo, and apart from the occasional question over a specific word, are very much learning through hearing a rich vocabulary used in context. This reminded me of some articles I recently read, describing the differences in second-grade literature in 1879 compared with today, and comparing middle school reading lists from 100 years ago with today. Why should an eight year old only be expected to understand very simple vocabulary and basic plots? And does that not become self-perpetuating, whereby our expectations of our children diminish? I confess I have been surprised by how much my boys are enjoying Robinson Crusoe read aloud, but I have been delighted and also have noted them using many new words correctly without having been 'taught'. As is their style, they have been acting out sections of the book in the garden, building shelters and defences, and this clearly shows their understanding (it's almost like their form of 'narration').

The second thing I was unaware of was the strong Christian message in the story*. For those who are unfamiliar with it, Robinson left home against his parents' wishes at the age of 18 to go to sea. He met with quite a number of early trials and near-disasters, and whilst grappling with his conscience, turned his back on his parents' wisdom and on any consciousness of God challenging him. However, later on, on the island, he became conscious of the blackness of his own heart, and having found a Bible amongst his possessions on the shipwreck, began to diligently study God's word and listen to His voice.

So even whilst alone on the island, the character described his situation thus:

'I spent the whole day in humble and thankful acknowledgements of the many wonderful mercies which my solitary condition was attended with, and without which it might have been infinitely more miserable. I gave humble and hearty thanks that God had been pleased to discover to me that it was possible I might be more happy in this solitary condition than I should have been in the liberty of society, and in all the pleasures of the world; and He could fully make up to me the deficiencies of my solitary state, and the want of human society, by His presence and the communication of His grace to my soul; supporting, comforting and encouraging me to depend upon His providence here, and hope for His eternal presence hereafter.'

'From this moment I began to conclude in my mind that it was possible for me to be more happy in this forsaken, solitary condition than I should ever have been in any other particular state of the world...'

This is rich gospel truth, and providing plenty of food for hearty discussions with my children. That it is embedded in one of the most famous novels of all time, not in a book specifically marketed as 'Christian', is an unexpected and wonderful treat.

If you are looking for adventure, rich literature, reflections on resourcefulness and creativity and a clear reflection upon God's amazing grace, this book has it all!

*Clearly, I had not done my 'homework' but had simply picked up a 'classic' novel. Daniel Defoe, the author, was a Puritan who wrote books on other topics, and had a very strong sense of God's sovereignty and providence. That makes a lot of sense - and I have found it refreshing to have that strong worldview come across through literature.

Saturday, 5 August 2017

Home is here

The last few months have been tiring. Many of the reasons are predictable - busy work schedules for both of us involving a lot of travel, homeschooling the children, being involved in church and regularly hosting meetings in our home, runs of minor illnesses, and sometimes just the thing where being in a 'different' culture can make simple tasks seem a lot more tiring than one might expect.

A friend shared this article about 'ten things a missionary may not tell you' - I resonated with some of this. Indeed, last year, I wrote about how I think the best ways to support your cross-cultural overseas workers is sometimes to simply be a friend and remain in contact and keep the relationships alive. Sometimes I share these kind of links with friends in the hope that they hear me, and realise just how aching the loneliness can be at times, but somehow I find it hard to be 'heard' and that can only compound the feelings of isolation and misunderstanding.

However, today there blew a breath of fresh air. I have some colleagues from the UK who are here for a few days, one in Africa for her first time. So the children and I took them downtown - not to the particularly tourist places, but to the places where you can buy fabric cheaply, where you see men carrying huge packages on their heads (my favourite must be when they stack about twenty mattresses up high!), to where children crawl around the stalls, and where you think it must be possible to buy just about anything if you knew where to look. But the thing I found remarkable was that it didn't seem strange at all. Here we were, in a part of town where you rarely see foreigners, with four children in tow, darting in and out of traffic and dodging the head-carriers, but it just felt normal. There were one or two things (like crossing the chaotic taxi park) that I used to find absolutely terrifying and completely perplexing all in one, but somehow even that felt normal. My friends assured me that this absolutely was not normal and it was completely eye opening and crazy.

What I realised was that this is home. The children were leading the way, explaining about all kinds of things (some of the history, the different types of military vehicle on the street, the different street foods they prefer) and I saw just how at home they are here too.

Often the loneliness I feel is not a consequence of being overseas from my passport country, so much as a phase of life. My children are young and still require a lot of input and supervision. When my husband is overseas, I rise very early and stay up very late to get my academic work completed. The only evenings I don't work are when I am hosting a Christian meeting of some type, often leading a Bible study and making sure everybody is comfortable, with drinks and cake. There just isn't a whole lot of time for 'socialising'.

I remember when we left our neighbourhood in the UK, how I hadn't quite realised how settled we were and how strong some of the relationships were until it was time to leave. I  think I am beginning to see that here. My children love the Bible studies, especially when one of the young men comes a little early to play raucous games outside with them. Their favourite songs are in multiple different languages. They enjoy laughing (in a healthy way) at the differences between the cultures (and in return, are often laughed at too - the people here have a very robust sense of humour).

I was encouraged to simply give thanks that this is our home. This is where God has brought us, and where He has provided community, fellowship and life.

Yes, there are tiring days, lonely days, and sometimes sad days. But these are irrespective of my physical locality - and I must take care to see that as the case.

And now, I must stop blogging and return to preparing Sunday lunch for a group of friends who will join us here.

Thursday, 20 July 2017

Enjoying childhood

This post is a type of reminder to myself: that the children are young for such a short time, and I will most likely look back on these days as being among the most blissful of our lives.

Lately I have been tired. I've had a run of viral illnesses, mostly minor with one a bit more serious. Through work schedules, either my husband or I are away from home for five out of six weeks (this is very unusual - more often one of us is away for about a week a month). One or two things have been frustrating me, but at the same time I recognise that I am more easily irritated when I feel tired and worn out. And there have been times when I have wished my children were a little older and more independent - particularly when I am trying to teach the three boys and each of them is clamouring for my attention at once. I find myself longing for the day when I can assign them a task, knowing they have the attention and perseverance to work through it with little adult input.

But then I need to take a step back and enjoy the moment. I wrote about this recently. Yesterday, we enjoyed walking to basketball - a dusty hour-long walk under the midday African sun, providing many opportunities to talk through all kinds of things that we'd been reading about, or things that were on their minds. On a few occasions, we talked about attitude, and what the Bible says about speech, and what we can do about it (with God's help) and I was reminded of Deuteronomy Chapter 6 - these are they days of sitting together to eat, of walking along the road, of frequent conversations about God's goodness. These are the foundational years, when their worldview is forming and they are starting to understand that the world is not just a glorious, amazing adventure, but is also punctuated by hardship, suffering and pain. These are the moments when a childlike question could be easily brushed aside by a tired and irritable parent, but which reflects the searching of their young soul for eternal answers.

Today, they have made planes out of left over pieces of cardboard, the insides of toilet rolls and various other packets and things they have been saving for such activities. It is amazing to step back and observe their development, and particularly their team work in making sure the youngest is able to create something also. As well as the creative and fine motor skills I observe, I note their kindness to one another (most of the time) and their ways of negotiating to obtain the items they want most. And again, I am reminded that these times are a great benefit of homeschooling - having time to play, to create, to explore, to design and to share.

I write these things partly because I've worried lately about doing 'enough'. I gather, from reading home schooling blogs, that 'enough' is one of the temptations of a homeschooling parent! How would one define 'enough'? One of the reasons we chose homeschooling was to embrace their natural love of learning and desire to explore the world around them, and to give them time to be children and enjoy a simple childhood which contrasts with so much of the modern world around us. And yet at the same time, I am tempted to compare, to worry, to feel that we need to be achieving X, Y and Z every day or we are somehow exposing our children to risk. When I say 'enough', perhaps I don't mean in terms of what the children do, since they are making good progress in all areas, but maybe in terms of myself - I think I should be more dynamic, more creative, more full  of interesting and exciting ideas for projects. But then, when I step back and give them space to play, I find that many of  their games relate to the history and world cultures we have been studying. Their building (shelters, fireplaces, other things that boys build out of sticks and stones in the garden) uses some of the mathematical concepts they have been working on, and often they will then write about these things in letters home. I love our  curriculum, but sometimes I need to step back from it a bit, and allow a more 'natural approach'.

One way I have addressed this overlaps with the concept of 'stealth attacks' as proposed by Julie Hogart at Brave Writer. I read ahead, see what concept or task I am meant to cover, and then find away of bringing it in without the child realising they are doing 'school'. An example might be my son who is currently on LA3 from Sonlight. He is using the Diamond Notes to learn about paragraph structure. Sometimes the assigned tasks seem a bit artificial, but if I encourage him to write a letter to a grandparent about a recent hike, or his latest pet (an insect or a lizard usually), or something he has cooked, then he can flesh out a paragraph with relative ease. The Singapore Maths home instructor guide has some nice ideas for games to help them learn their number facts, and changing venue, or using chalk to draw out on the tiles in the back yard can bring variety and an element of fun (and the questioning minds of the boys, 'What is mummy doing now??'

Another thing that is helpful when feeling tired and maybe a bit overwhelmed is to consider again the core reasons for choosing home education (I wrote a list of some of these five years ago now). For many of us, these are far broader than pure academics. Sometimes we can be so busy looking at the current 'challenge' or concern, and not take time to reflect on the progress which has been made by each child, and in particular in relation to worldview and character formation. I need to stop and remember these things, particularly when we are often told by friends and relatives that, 'So and so is doing marvellously at school'. (Interestingly, I have never had a friend or relative that is not doing 'marvellously' at school....) I also need to remember that the people who are constantly posting pictures of beautiful craft and science projects on Facebook groups tend to be the exception, and that such creative activities are not essential for well-rounded learning.

Today, I am choosing to 'Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, with prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving' to bring my concerns to God. (Philippians 4:6). I am choosing not to be discouraged by comparing my children to others. I am choosing to celebrate each day as a God-given opportunity. I choose to rejoice in having a curriculum which means very little lesson planning - a great blessing when I have been tired and a bit unwell. And I choose to celebrate these peaceful moments of childhood, recognising that the time will come all to soon that the children do not want to tell me every little thing, all the time.

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Quiet thankfulness

Yesterday my children were eating lunch on a 'raft' they had built out of fallen branches from the palm trees. It was warm, but pleasant and we enjoyed the sound of birdsong and counting the different types of beautifully coloured butterfly we could see. It was one of those moments that you wish you could freeze in time and keep forever.

I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for so many things. Nine years ago, we were grieving for our firstborn, and in the strange situation of being parents, but having no living children. I remember the days feeling long, feeling lonely, feeling cold. Fast forward to today, and I am surrounded by four lively children who are so full of curiosity and enthusiasm, continually learning and exploring new things. I thank God so much for these blessings; I often can barely believe I have been given such privilege and responsibility as to raise them.

Lately, I have thought about grief - that it is a process, but one which has no real end. The sorrow of our daughter's death remains, along with the pain of knowing there is so much pain and wrongdoing in this world. But I wonder, having tasted that deep sorrow, whether it does not mean that moments of joy are all the greater. I remember that feeling of having lost everything. I know that I cannot take these moments and these days for granted.

Yesterday, I felt it was the first time in several weeks that I actually stopped and seized hold of a beautiful moment. So often, my mind has been working through checklists and tasks even as I have been 'relaxing'. In the evenings, if not occupied with church activities or academic work, I have often been considering different teaching methods and reviewing our home education materials to ensure we are providing each child with the best opportunities to build upon their unique learning style. There has always been a list of tasks to work through. Probably there always will be.

But yesterday I felt a calm peace descending as the Lord gently reminded me of His sovereignty. There will be unexpected surprises and disappointments in life, and there will be times of trial and sorrow. There will be days of peace and stability, but also times of disquiet and turmoil. I cannot control these things, but He knows each of these days before it comes. Sometimes when I look at my young children, I find myself wondering what kind of world they will be adults in, what kind of trials and pressures they may face; but my job is not to worry about that - but rather to provide them with a solid foundation and worldview, to pray for them diligently and to teach them to critically appraise situations and arguments to reach a rational judgement.

I was thankful to be reminded of all that I have been blessed with, and to be reminded to open my eyes to the beauty and blessings that surround me.

I have not written much lately - there has not been much free time to write and reflect. The months seem to be passing quickly, and the children seem to be changing rapidly (in many good ways). I am reminded of the quote that 'the days are long but the years are short', and am thankful for the reminder to stop and be thankful for these busy days surrounded by noise, activity and laughter.

Saturday, 17 June 2017

Trusting God as we raise our children (subtitle: ignoring the pressures of this age)

I recently saw an amusing quotation on Facebook - it was along the lines of all the things a modern day mother needs to buy, cook, utilise and consider in order to raise a family, whereas 50 years ago, a mother would simply seek to feed, clothe and keep her children safe. I was also amused when reading how the laptop and tablet ban on some airlines has led to an outcry among parents who think it is impossible to travel without some kind of digital entertainment for their children. This blog summarises it better than I can, considering how parents of a bygone age managed without screens.

But this isn't a post about technologies and their pros and cons, but rather a reflection on how we can best raise our families in different settings where there is different availability of resources and activities. What got me thinking about this was a recent trip to my passport country. I enjoyed some activities like park run and heard my friends speak of a recent home education co-op trip to a castle. I saw piles of library books, and enjoyed walking down streets with safe pavements and using safe and efficient public transport. I missed these things! In fact, I wavered slightly, feeling sad that my children do not currently have these opportunities. However, when I reflect on that, I must remember that here we have exposure to a diverse array of wildlife, even in the city. We recently had opportunity to run through a game park with herds of zebra intermittently crossing our path. We spent a night in a rainforest and hiked to a waterfall. We camped beside a lake and lit a bonfire. We are exposed to a wide range of cultures and languages, and live in a climate whereby spending many hours each day out of doors is the norm and never burdensome. Which is better? (I think I would argue that neither is better - each presents unique and valuable opportunity)

I also was reflecting on what parents consider to be 'activities for children'. When I first moved here, quite a few parents mused that, 'There isn't really much for children here'. A friend is leaving an east Asian country for the six week school holidays, because 'its hard to find things to do'. Another friend is prayerfully considering cross-cultural mission but is concerned about the impact it will have on her children, particularly with regard to availability of safe, enjoyable activities and resources for them. I just can't help but wonder if some of this misses the point, and whether the current western cultural view of what is 'good for children' has become incredibly narrow.

For many years, children would help with the family business as soon as they were able to carry out even basic activities - be that farming, sewing, baking, manufacture and so forth. That remains the case in many parts of the world today, where young children take on responsibilities that might astound many in different parts of the world. (I note that this is not always a good thing - young boys herding goats along dangerous main roads is one example, or forced child labour in other places. But that is not the thrust of the statement I am making!) Children can thrive when given responsibility, and we've seen that in our household (I've also been amused by some online arguments about whether children should participate in chores, or whether we should 'let them be children'; it seems these are entirely asking the wrong question because these are not mutually exclusive by any means).

Before modern forms of transport and telecommunications, people would live in much smaller, tighter communities. This need not be a bad thing. Rather than lament that our children may not have exposure to such a wide range of friends as they attend a range of activities, we can be thankful that they have the opportunity to build strong, perhaps more stable relationships. Another aspect of this which has surprised me was the tendency for some people to want to separate our children so that they could 'form their own friendships'. Often it is not seen as healthy for children to play well together across a wide range of age groups, and yet this was considered normal in so many places for so long. Indeed, evidence indicates that home educated children often do better socially because they learn to build a diverse range of relationships. There has also been much written about the fact that children should be given opportunity to be 'bored' since it is then that creativity and team-work often flourish; we'd testify that has often been the case here!

How many toys and games does a child need? I have friends in other countries who have whole rooms overflowing with toys and games, and yet the children can still complain that they are, 'bored and have nothing to do'. Indeed, it can seem that with so much choice, the children are bewildered and unable to focus. Whereas in African villages, you will see children happily playing for hours with a stick and an old tyre, or some other simple game or toy. I think we find a medium approach - yes, we have a train-track and boxes of lego and a few other things, but try and have a 'one game at a time' rule (except perhaps now, where they are building a Duplo camp next to their railway, and there seems to be a very clear aim). There are other parenting articles (for example, here, here and here) which describe what constitutes a 'good' game or toy for a child, but my basic rule is that I want something where they can really use their creativity and imagination - I do not want something that can only be used in one way, for one thing.

When I first arrived here, I confess that I had many concerns about 'finding things to do'. I remember walking along a road, dodging motorcycles which had mounted the basic pavement, and wondering how on earth I would ever be able to move around here with the children. One thing I really miss is public parks, large areas of safe, green space where children can run, climb, cycle and play. Previously, we would spend several hours per day there, come rain or shine. Here, we have had to be more creative. The roads rarely have pavement, the traffic is unsafe, and it is often hot and dusty (you sweat and then get coated with bright orange dust). However we have found some roads in a residential area which are quite green and leafy, are a little wider and sometimes have a grass verge, and where the traffic is less if we choose the time wisely. The children have invented games about being explorers or wildlife photographers, and even have several 'bases' (usually the underside of a bush or the shelter of a tree) where they make camp. They have also become very aware of road-safety and as they get older, I feel increasingly able to relax whilst out there. Now, I don't miss the parks so much (until I make a visit back and see them afresh!). We also have a quiet section of dirt road outside our gate, several hundred metres long. That is perfect for sprint training and playing on bikes, again if we choose the time of day wisely. I look back and the time when I felt such anxiety, and see how God has provided us with what we need - it was not immediately obvious, but with time we have found what we needed.

These are just some examples and thoughts. I know that when moving overseas, providing for our children is often one of the biggest concerns and priorities. At first glance, it can seem that there are 'fewer things for children to do', but I would counter that this need not be the case. It might require a paradigm shift, but even in a bustling city, there can be fresh opportunities. Children often see things differently to adults - I've enjoyed watching my children develop their games and fun things to do.

I want to encourage you that if you are considering cross-cultural work and are concerned about this, that you may well be surprised! Children often do adapt much better than their parents, and pick up language, culture and customs better than adults do through 'cross-cultural training'. You might need to adapt to this - for example, my sons rarely wear shirts, are rarely clean and enjoy eating insects! But they are busy, happy, have built friendships and are developing spiritually and educationally. What else really matters?

Sunday, 28 May 2017

Living between different worlds

I am sitting in an airport lounge waiting to fly back to my home in East Africa. I am returning from a week-long work-related visit to my passport country, and am now longing to be back in the warmth, chaos and dust of home.

It has been over a year since I was last here. So many people have asked me open-ended questions, such as ‘How are the family?’, or, ‘How is work?’, or ‘What is your church like?’, or ‘How is Africa?’ Often I am quite bewildered to know where to start. There are some things that are just too difficult to fully explain, and it is easier to focus on concrete facts (like, ‘Please pray for a favourable judgement at my daughter’s adoption hearing’). As I return home, I feel quite emotional and jumbled, and from that perspective, offer a few reflections of what it can be like for a person who now lives far away to parachute back into their ‘old’ life for a short time:

1.       General bewilderment: It is just like parachuting back in to a life which in some ways feels absolutely familiar and which in other ways feels completely foreign. I find this really unsettling – examples this time have included a change in several denominations of the currency used, some quite dramatic fashion trends (for example full beards on young men), people who have undergone significant life events in the time I have been gone, computerisation of all medical records in the hospital where I work and even the building of a brand new, very shiny hospital (not open yet – likely to be by the time I am next back)

2.       Relationships. It can be immensely rewarding and encouraging to meet with friends, even for a short time, and yet at the same time, this can also be frustrating as there just isn’t always enough time to really connect. I have not worked out a particular formula to predict which encounters will fall into which of these categories, but I have noted a couple of things. For me, I don’t even tell very many people that I will be around – I pray about this a lot before making the trip, and then get in contact with a few people. It is much easier to meet one on one with a person and talk properly than to be surrounded by many people, but not actually get to talk to any of them at any level. I often find it quite bewildering to be surrounded by friends who are all chatting away about many different things – particularly when I am just back, I’d much rather meet for a quiet meal, coffee or walk in the park with just one or two people. At the same time, I also pray that God shows me any opportunities I should make the most of – for example colleagues going out after work, a group of friends going to a run together, or somebody you had not planned to meet who has a particular need. This time, I particularly enjoyed something called Park Run where I went with two friends and bumped into a number of people I had not seen for years. It was relaxed and enjoyable and conversation was easy as we’d all just shared a run on a beautiful morning.

3.       Cultural changes. There are often subtle changes in the way people think, talk and behave, and it can be noticeable even after a year. I had read a statistic that in the UK apparently more food is now consumed outside the home than at home (I am still not quite convinced I believe this). On my first two nights, staying with two different friends, both decided ‘just to go out for dinner because it’s easier’. It’s a small thing, but took me by surprise. (Both were extremely pleasant evenings, and I am not commenting on whether this choice is a good one or not, but rather that this was not something that I would have ever thought of doing!). More sadly, there is a huge amount of pressure towards general tolerance, and particularly shifting of gender and sexual norms. There are subtle (and not so subtle) signals of this everywhere, and I have found myself relieved that I have not needed to explain such things to my children (yet). I have little doubt that when we visit for longer as a family, that my now capable readers will ask me some interesting questions about things they see and read out and about, on billboards, in newspapers and on screens. I think in some ways it is helpful to come back and be a little shocked by a shift away from biblically correct worldview – it is a reminder that we need to live in this world as strangers and pilgrims, being as innocent as doves but as shrewd as snakes (in the words of Jesus). It helps me to pray for the country of my birth, for my friends and family, for the political decisions that are made, and also to prayerfully consider how to prepare my children for their first visit back.

4.       Emotion. I tend to be quite pragmatic about life, and tend to see problems as challenges to overcome and opportunities for growth. I tend to be thankful for what is in front of me in different places (people, food, gospel opportunities, fun things to do) rather than lamenting the things that are not available in that place. But I find short visits a strangely emotional whirlwind. In Africa, I have good friends and feel very settled in a church where we can both serve and grow as Christians. But there is often just a level of separation – of not quite feeling really understood, having to be a little careful about use of humour, of always feeling a little guarded and aware that there may be cultural undertones of which I am unaware. When I am back in the culture where I grew up, I do not feel some of these subtle barriers, and with some friends, there is this amazingly liberating feeling of being understood. This is really precious, and I think you don’t always realise quite how precious it is until you do not have it. This week I have been greatly encouraged and refreshed by some of my closest friends, and I feel sad to be leaving (but thankful at least for the internet and ways of trying to remain in touch). At church this morning I felt quite overcome by a wave of emotion – thankfulness, sadness and a real awareness of eternity where every tribe and tongue will sing God’s praises in harmony.

5.       Loss. If you read this blog, you know I am thankful for so many things that I could not even begin to list them. But with that, there are feelings of sadness and loss. Two days ago, it was nine years since my daughter died, and because I was in the right country, I was able to visit her grave. I was able to reflect on all she taught me, and all I am thankful for. But there is always going to be sadness there. When she died, I really did feel like a part of me died too. I think the part of me that died was a selfish, worldly part that feels entitled to pleasure and comfort in this current world. Another part was a fresh innocent hope that this world was not as bad as many people say, but her death was a reminder that this world is fallen, broken and in need of redemption. The Bible is clear on those points. So whilst I am thankful too for these lessons, I can still feel the raw pain – almost as though somebody had ripped my heart out and thrown it at a wall. Another reflection that comes is that as we live in this world, almost all of us will face pain and loss of one degree or another. Many of my African friends have been through more than my European friends could possibly imagine. Some of my European friends have been through more than many of my African friends would understand. One group might face political instability, genocide and prejudice, hunger, poverty and high death rates from illnesses which might be preventable in other parts of the world. Others might face abuse from dysfunctional families, mental illness and addiction, financial insecurity and bereavement without the support structure to support them through it. Nobody is immune to pain and loss. And when I move from one world to another, sharing the lives of people from many places, I feel aware of the pain that is a universal part of being human. I long for the new heaven promised in Revelation chapter 21, where we are promised that there will be no more illness, pain or death and that the Lord Himself will wipe away every tear. True comfort is found nowhere else.

I am aware that this reflection is not particularly well structured, and that I have touched on a number of challenging themes without really working the thread through to a conclusion. In attempt to draw things together a little, I would say:

1.       If you have friends or family who have moved between cultures, be aware that coming back for a visit may bring complex thoughts and feelings that can be difficult to articulate

2.       Be aware that this must be very similar for those who have moved into your country and culture from elsewhere – and take the time to listen

3.       Remember that God’s family will be made from every tribe and tongue. We are all made in His image, and in this world, we all know joy and pain, sadness and loss, hope and despair, often all jumbled in a complex tangle

4.       Be thankful for what you have – relationships, material provisions, health and strength – and where you feel loss in these areas, find things that you can give thanks for


5.       Remember that confusion, misunderstanding and loss will be in this world until Jesus returns to make all things new. Beware of the idol of earthly comfort and security and seek to live as a stranger and pilgrim in this world, spending your life (your time, your strength, your resources) to build His kingdom

Wednesday, 17 May 2017

Five years of blogging!

I started blogging at Home Education Novice five years ago, on May 17th 2012. At that time, I had three sons aged under three, and we had decided that we would home educate from the start. In the country where I was living (UK), my oldest son was reaching the age where he would be eligible for 15 hours per week of free nursery placement, and many people expressed real shock that I wouldn't take up that offer. I started to write as I researched home education, and sought support and encouragement from others who had chosen a path which was less well travelled.

What a lot can change in five years!

Some of this has been physical - we have moved seven times involving three different countries. But more than that, as the family have grown and as we've continued to embrace home education, we are thankful for the choices that we made, and for friends who supported us in those choices. I have been very thankful for the online community, through blogs, Facebook pages and discussion forums. I think we all have days when we are tired, and perhaps question our decision-making, or are tempted to compare ourselves and our children to others. It helps to recognise that others feel that way too, and that whilst we need take care never to become arrogant or rigid in our thinking, that our basic underlying motivations for homeschooling remain. It was a good choice then, and it is a good choice now.

I love watching each child develop. There is something almost magical about that moment when 'the penny drops' and a child grasps a concept or moves forward a step. But it's important to remember that on all the days in between, there is progress being made, and by being able to work at a child's own speed and tailor resources and supplementary materials to their needs is a wonderful benefit of home schooling. There are other days when you see real character development - perseverance in the face of trials, showing kindness and going the extra mile for another person, becoming more aware of the needs of those around them. These are every bit as important as academic milestones.

We don't often notice people criticising our choices these days. I think part of it is that people who thought they might change our mind in the early days have accepted that we are convinced this is right for now. Some of it might be that we are less sensitive. Perhaps we are more surrounded by friends who have also made alternative choices. And some of it will be the simple evidence of observing my children, seeing how the speak, occupy themselves and interact with others. (Yes, they have dreadful moments of selfishness and disobedience too, but the general trend of their lives is positive).

This week we celebrated our third 'Box Day'; Sonlight users know what I refer to. We have a busy year ahead of us, but plenty of fun is planned. It was great to unpack and organise all the resources and reflect on just how much each of the children has moved on in the last year.

I aim to continue to blog - my aim is to write once a week, on a topic relating to Christian living. That might relate to home education, or family life, cross-cultural living and Christian missions, life-work balance, adoption, discipline and home-making or another area where I feel the impact of our faith warrants discussion. I hope and pray that these posts bring encouragement, where-ever you are reading from.

Here's to another five years!