Five Letter Words

Doubt.  What a little word with such a big body.  It can literally swallow whole dreams and purposes, and it's not even more than five letters. Promise, imagination, dreams, potential all are bigger words, but if doubt gets its gander up, all those bigger words are powerless.  

I talk about doubt because on days like today, where my whole morning was swallowed by crisis after crisis and the kids basically looked like zombies, doubt became the 800 pound gorilla slapping me around.  I mean, how many kids are having uninterrupted learning while I fend off rumours and innuendos by phone over things I have no control over?  Are my kids really benefitting from being around me as I fuss and fume over work?  Is this the life they really desire, or do they just think they do, because they know it makes me happy?

Bigger, bigger, bigger grows the five letter word.

Then doubt's big bully cousin, logic, steps in.  It would make more sense, he says, to simply send them to school.  You'll still participate in their lives, right?  It's not like you'll never work with them on educational things.  And it's the 'quality time' that counts.  Logic is a little more subtle than doubt but just as paralyzing, because he uses the words that others use.  Doubt uses your own words against you.  Either one is a bear, but together they make a horrendous tag team of trepidation and uncertainty.  What's worse, they don't give you solutions as much as an espace hatch that you don't entirely trust as well.  Wasn't that door the same one you came in from?  Isn't it the way back from the problems that led you to this place?  How come the escape hatch always looks familiar?  I've never seen logic lead me to a new conclusion.  It's always moving toward a rusty, but tried and true door that creaks as it opens and flakes off in your hand, leaving paint flecks from the slamming of the door over and over as you left and returned again and again.

Then there's faith.  

Another five letters.  Same size, same propensity to look smaller than it really is.  Doubt doesn't tell you about itself - neither does faith.  Both wait for the circumstances to arise before it starts to speak.  But while doubt speaks to what you say to yourself, and logic says what others say, faith says what you haven't heard yet.  And that's why faith always seems unfamiliar - he has a new voice, an unfamiliar voice like that of a new bird song in your backyard.  You hear it, but it's so new that you either think you've misheard the same bird as before, or that it's simply passing through.  You don't expect it to nest.  But there it is again, the same new song, chirping loudly and so clearly that to ignore it takes effort.  It never infringes, only invites.  Doubt knocks loudly, Logic kicks down the door and sits in your favorite chair.  Faith waits on the outside, but has the key to a whole new house, and simply wants you to come visit.  Faith knows you won't understand if he shows you pictures or uses your own descriptions.  It's not adequate.

Hebrews 11:1-2.  I know it says it better.  But now I just want to remember that I'm naturally going to hear from each five letter word, and one is pretty worried, and one is pretty insistent, and one is quitely confident.   My children are asleep now, and not one of them is worried about tomorrow - about a test, or a meal, or a bully, or a mean teacher.  They are trusting that tomorrow is going to be another great rollercoaster day.  The letters T-R-U-S-T are standing beside me, and they are beginning to show a barely visible smile.

AP

The Internal Narration

We all have one. That voice on the inside that details the inner workings of your
mind like an incessant sportscaster intent on pointing out every obvious point of the game
("it's going to come down to the final play..." 'nooooo, really?').
I'm hearing that voice even today, and I'm actually grateful for it in a way.
The narrator of my mind is pointing out my inconsistency today - how I badger my teen about going to bed when I'm staying up myself -
how I am trying to create a piano curriculum for my piano students while divorcing my younger
kids from any overt educational structure, that sort of thing.
And yet I'm glad I have an inner critic / commentator. It reminds me that I'm not just of one
mind,barrelling down the same road out of ignorance or pride. It reminds me that I do have
choices, and just because I ignore the voice one day does not mean
I will be out of touch with it the next. Please understand that I'm not referring to the voice
of the Spirit, which I know I must listen to as a Christian. It's that more human side of reflection that I know is
just a revelation that I'm more than the sum of my actions - I have a will, and it's being shaped daily and re-shaped daily. It's simply the discipline of watching my will match His will, and then enjoying the process.

On the homeschool front I'm still researching language arts resources, esp. handwriting and 'basal' type lessons. It seems that the Charlotte Mason approach, with its reliance on pure production (dictation, narration, copywork, etc.) suits my feeling that I don't want my kids creating what they've never seen. If you can't read or copy a great paragraph, how can you create one? Even so, I'm still trying to keep the creative side flowing, as I want them to continue to create literature examples (I love the book Poetry Speaks to Children - which I just checked out from the library.) and to continue to look to share knowledge as soon as they learn it. I am still convinced that the transfer of knowledge from one form to another and then from one person to another is the key to the retention of the knowledge itself. (Long words meaning, if you can teach it, you've learned it.)

As I mentioned, an hour long trip to the library has netted me more insights into my kids interests. While I do steer them on the way to more 'structured' work, my gut feeling is still to adapt my lessons to their interest, rather than the other way around. This interest directed learning is way harder on the planning, but the satisifaction my kids have with their learning choices is hard to argue with. As I discussed with my wife our educational philosophy, that idea of 'when they are interested' kept popping up. Should we push them into a subject because the 'grade level' is usually the determining factor? If so, shouldn't all kids walk by 9 months, or talk by 20? When does the learning process become so predictable? I hold that it never does, and that is why public schools will continue to be hit and miss. Hit with the kids that are ready, and miss the kids that aren't.

Lastly, I just finished the audiobook 'Clemente' by David Maraniss(sp). What a great person and character Roberto Clemente was - an individual. My inner voice is comparing us - would I ever be so great as to be revered as a great baseball hero and cultural icon? If I am faithful over what God has placed in my hands - my children, my wife, my ministry - then I believe that I am in the same league as a Clemente - passionate and uncompromising about what is important to me. My inner voice says that's a good enough goal for a dad. Not to be a sports icon or social her0 - but to be a good husband and father. That's a home run for me any day. Here's to more pitches to hit tomorrow. God bless you and keep your eyes to the hills from whence comes your help.

AP