From Someone Who’s Been Through the Trenches (and Survived). A few things I learned along the way that I wish someone had told me sooner.
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Dear Homeschool Mama,
First, let me commiserate with you over a few things.
Babies are exhausting.
Toddlers are slightly unhinged.
Teaching a child to read can make you question everything you thought you knew about the English language.
Middle school should probably be unlawful.
And teenagers? Well, they’ve apparently been adults for several years now. Someone just forgot to tell you.
But here’s what I want you to know: Every single one of these stages is a season. And seasons pass.
Just about the time you’re convinced you’ve reached the most challenging stage of parenting, another one will come along and make you nostalgic for the days when your biggest problem was someone refusing to learn their multiplication tables.
And then, one day, you’ll turn around and those children will be grown. They’ll be getting married, building lives of their own, and perhaps handing you grandchildren who will remind you exactly what love is.
Time isn’t waiting for you, Mama. Not even a little.
So, after years of homeschooling, parenting, praying, laughing, crying, second-guessing myself, and occasionally wondering whether boarding school was still a thing-kidding, here are some things I learned.
1. The most important thing you’re teaching isn’t in a curriculum.
Education matters. Of course it does.
But not nearly as much as we sometimes convince ourselves.
Your child’s ability to diagram a sentence, solve an algebra equation, or recite the periodic table will never be as important as knowing and loving the Lord.
Teach them about Jesus. Teach them His Word. Teach them to recognize His goodness, His faithfulness,His mercy, and His truth.
And remember, they’re learning far more about loving God by watching you than by completing another Bible worksheet.
2. Your life is speaking. Loudly.
Your children are watching how you respond when things go wrong.
How you treat people.
How you speak about others.
How you handle disappointment.
How you love your husband, your family, your neighbors, and those who aren’t particularly lovable.
They’re watching what you do when life gets hard.
And yes, they’re watching how you respond when someone spills an entire glass of milk five minutes after you’ve cleaned the kitchen.
Your example is powerful, but there’s something even more powerful that they may never see.
Your prayers.
Pray for those children more than you think is humanly possible. Pray over their hearts, their futures, their friendships, their weaknesses, their decisions, and their relationship with the Lord.
Pray when they’re little. Pray when they’re teenagers. Pray when they’re grown.
Pray when you know what to pray, and pray when you haven’t the slightest idea.
Prayer matters. More than you know.
3. God created your children before you ever dreamed of them.
Let that sink in.
Before you held them, named them, taught them to tie their shoes, or spent three hours trying to explain long division, God knew them.
He created each one intentionally.
He gave them different personalities, gifts, interests, strengths, and weaknesses.
One may love academics. Another may be happiest building, drawing, singing, cooking, inventing, or taking apart something expensive to see how it works.
Occasionally you’ll get one who loves both. Consider that a bonus, not the standard.
Neither child is better.
Pay attention to what lights them up. Explore their interests. Give them opportunities to discover the gifts God placed within them.
Your job isn’t to make them into the person you imagined. It’s to help them grow into the person God created them to be.
And that requires a whole lot of trust.
4. Character matters. Spilled milk doesn’t.
I wish I could put this on every homeschooling refrigerator in America.
Train their character.
Teach honesty, kindness, responsibility, self-control, respect, compassion, and perseverance.
But please don’t confuse childish mistakes with character failures.
Spilled milk isn’t rebellion.
A forgotten assignment isn’t necessarily laziness.
A bad attitude on a difficult afternoon isn’t proof that you’ve failed as a mother.
They’re human. They’re learning.
And sometimes they’re just tired, hungry, overwhelmed, or twelve.
Which brings me to something else.
5. Children are allowed to have emotions.
Jesus wept. He felt compassion, sorrow, and righteous anger.
God created us with emotions.
Our children aren’t misbehaving simply because they’re sad, frustrated, disappointed, or angry.
Teach them how to handle their emotions, certainly. Discipline when needed. Train their character. But don’t punish them simply for feeling.
And when your child is having an emotional meltdown, try very hard not to join the festivities.
I know. Sometimes that’s asking a lot.
But they’re immature. That’s why they need you.Be the steady one. Be the calm one. Be the grown-up, even when you’d really like to take your own turn
crying on the kitchen floor.
6. Routines are wonderful. Rigid schedules can make everyone miserable.
Have a plan.
Have a rhythm.
Know what you’re hoping to accomplish.
But hold your plans loosely.
The baby will get sick. The washing machine will break. Someone will need extra help. Someone else will suddenly develop a passionate interest in something that wasn’t remotely part of today’s lesson plan.
That’s life.
And guess what?
Life is a classroom, too.
Your children aren’t being academically ruined because you had to spend a week -a year-dealing with something unexpected.
God is sovereign over those interruptions, too.
Sometimes the most valuable lessons happen when the schoolbooks are closed.
7. You are the teacher. The curriculum is a tool.
Don’t let a stack of expensive books boss you around.
If something isn’t working, change it.
If your child needs more time, give it.
If a lesson needs to be skipped, simplified, repeated, or taught while sitting under a tree, you’re allowed.
You are not accountable to a curriculum publisher for your child’s every waking moment.
And most of those academic emergencies that feel like mountains?
Years later, you’ll discover they were molehills.
Very dramatic molehills, perhaps, but molehills nonetheless.
8. Play. Please, play.
Read books together.
Create things.
Go outside.
Explore.
Laugh until your stomach hurts.
Make memories that have absolutely nothing to do with academic achievement.
Let them see you enjoying them.
Not just teaching them, correcting them, feeding them, or driving them somewhere.
Enjoying them.
And don’t stop when they become teenagers. They may act like they’re far too sophisticated for family fun,
but keep inviting them anyway.
Some of the sweetest moments happen when nobody is officially learning anything.
9. You will not be a perfect mother. And you will not raise perfect children.
Let’s get that settled right now.
You will lose your patience.
You’ll make mistakes.
You’ll say things you wish you hadn’t.
You’ll make decisions you later question.
And your children will do the same.
Don’t demand perfection from them when you can’t offer it yourself.
Instead, let them see what repentance looks like.
Ask the Lord to forgive you.
And when you’ve wronged your children, ask them to forgive you, too.
There is something beautiful about a mother who can look her child in the eyes and say, “I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”
Keep growing in your own relationship with the Lord.
Read His Word. Listen. Obey. Walk with Him daily.
And when you’re exhausted, take a break.
Rest. Refresh your soul in His presence.
10. Don’t forget whose children they are.
This may be the hardest lesson of all.
We love our children so fiercely that we sometimes begin to believe we’re responsible for every decision they’ll ever make.
We’re not.
We can teach them God’s Word, model our faith, pray faithfully, nurture their hearts, and point them toward Christ.But we cannot make them love Him.
And here’s something I believe Christian mothers need to hear more often:
Even wonderful, faithful, godly mothers who pour their hearts into raising their children in the ways of the Lord sometimes have adult children who walk away from Him.
That doesn’t automatically mean they failed.
And having children who grow up to love and follow the Lord doesn’t mean we did everything right.
Our children’s choices are not a report card on our motherhood.
God has given them their own hearts, their own choices, and their own lives to live.
We are called to be faithful.
We are not called to be sovereign.
That position is already filled.
And thank goodness, because I can barely keep track of my reading glasses.
So, dear homeschool Mama…
Keep your heart drenched in God’s Word and His truth.
You need Him. Not just to be a better mother or a better teacher.
You need Him because He is your life, your strength, your wisdom, and your hope.
Love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind.
Pray more.
Fret less.
Cry when you need to.
Apologize when you’re wrong.
Hold your plans loosely.
Hold your children tenderly.
And hold tightly to the Lord.
Listen to me Mama-
One day, the schoolbooks will be packed away. The house will grow quieter. The daily chaos that once seemed endless will become memories.
And you may discover that some of the things you worried about most mattered very little, while the ordinary moments of loving, praying, laughing, forgiving, and simply being together mattered more than you ever imagined.
Homeschooling was never just about preparing your children for life. God was using those years to shape you, too.
So be faithful with the days He’s given you, and leave the outcome with the One who created your children, loves them more than you ever could, and knew their names long before you did.
With love, from a mama who has learned a few things along the way.
