Wednesday, August 27

A New Season

A dear friend of mine frequently has reminded me through the years that we only see a small part of the bigger picture.  It is so easy to get weighed down by our narrow vision, and it is important that someone speak truth to you in those moments.

She was my easiest baby.  The caboose.  Her schedule flexed with the big kiddos.  She went everywhere, watched everything, and waited patiently...over and over and over again.  I fell deeply in love with my Boo girl.

I won't lie--the last few years with her have been hard.  She only likes certain clothes that fit certain ways.  She feels deeply and strongly.  She laughs loudest, yet cries hardest.  I found that I could handle those things decently--consistency, consistency, consistency.  As long as I could respond correctly, we were headed in the right direction.
 But then I began to school her, just as I did her siblings.  She HATED it.  I could convince her to color, to sing, to dance, to dream...but I could not convince her to read.  She knew her letters; she knew the sounds.  She would not read.  I tried everything.  I asked everyone for help.  I struggled just as much, if not more, than she did.
 I wanted her to love reading because I love reading.  Because her siblings love to read.  She did not care.  I took it personally.  I began to feel as if I was failing her.  People, unintentionally I hope, gave me reason to question myself. I contemplated enrolling her in school so she could have a better teacher.  I cried, and I prayed.  I found myself defeated and deflated.  My pride stopped me from seeking out more help.
 So it was with complete and utter dread that we started second grade this year.  I am not even kidding.  I prayed that God would somehow enable me to do an impossible job.  We are four weeks into the school year.  She loves it.  EVERY.SINGLE.THING.ABOUT.IT.  The handwriting?  It's beautiful.  The reading?  She's doing it AND enjoying it.  The math?  She's mastering it like her siblings did.  I remembered what I had forgotten--one of the greatest joys of homeschooling is letting each child find their own pace.  We finally found hers.

 I have been reminded that God always has more in store for us, and we have no idea what that looks like.  For me, at this time, I am treasuring our mornings.  I am thrilled to share my favorite stories with her, to see her own joy over my favorite characters and their antics.  Her heart is bending, and I am amazed as I watch it happen.  Her spirit, still quite spunky, is more pliable these days.  I am excited to see where she's headed.

**All of these beautiful pictures were taken this summer in Maine, except for the very last one.  It is from Gettysburg.**

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