I want to apologize to my dear friends. It has been so long since I last posted anything on this blog. So much has happened in such a few short months. . .

First, my dear husband and I found out our son who is on the autism spectrum also has epilepsy. I had to perform first aid on him back in July when he had a seizure and turned blue. When I saw him like that, my heart stopped and my world shattered for a few hours.

Tests revealed epilepsy in both sides of the rear of his brain.

An MRI also revealed a venous angioma in his brain - inoperable, but hopefully, it will not cause any problems.

Then, my baby Sis and her three children were involved in a horrible car accident. Sis is still recovering, and my parents and I are assuming care of the children (Sis is a single parent).

So - these last few months have been difficult and busy, but full of blessing. Through all this I have learned to let go of my need to control all the outcomes and just rely on God for His mercy, grace, and strength. He hasn't failed me.

I would love to hear from my dear friends and readers: how has God gotten you through a difficult time in your life?

I have no doubt that the Lord of all is Lord over all the chaos in my life right now, and He will sort it all out. We will come out stronger than ever before.

I appreciate your prayers and your testimonies. I always find the testimony of others encouraging and uplifting.

God bless everyone!

Yesterday, I talked a little about grieving for The Way It Should Have Been when I had a premature baby with many special needs who was eventually diagnosed with developmental delays, communication disorders, and autism spectrum disorder (ASD). T-Rex is more on the Asperger side of the scale, which becomes more evident the older he gets.

I think every parent who faces these challenges has experienced some sort of grief when the diagnosis is given. I did. I wondered how profoundly ASD would affect T-Rex. Would he be able to live a productive, "normal" life? Would people treat him differently? Would I treat him differently? The questions bombarded my tired mind until I thought I would crumple under the burden.

As time went on, though, I began to learn a few things about T-Rex, the world around us, and myself. I think the hardest thing at first were the rude stares we would get every time we were in public and T-Rex would have a meltdown or start stimming.  I finally found a bumper sticker that said, "Does my autism make you uncomfortable? How do you think your stares make me feel?"

Then there were others who would see him on really good days, look at me like I was some kind of liar, and say "Oh, he can't have autism. Look at him! He just said 'hi" me."

I wanted to say, "Yes, he just said 'hi' because we've been working on that goal with him every day in therapy, teaching him how to engage, say hello, and talk to people he meets. We're very proud of him. But - please don't judge us because you're only seeing a piece of the puzzle. You don't live with him, and you aren't the one doing all the therapy with him every day. So don't discount his hard work and progress by playing doctor and giving us a diagnosis when you don't see the whole picture."

Our goal is to have T-Rex function as optimally as possible in public and social settings, and in his daily life. When some people say they don't see the ASD (because T-Rex is verbal), I rejoice because that's an indication the therapy is working. But, don't give us "the look" like we're a couple of hyper-worried parents who just made up this diagnosis off the top of our heads so we could give our son an excuse to scream at the top of his lungs in Wal-Mart. He was seen by numerous professionals and specialists who went through the criteria with us as they evaluated T-Rex, and they diagnosed him.

In public, people's unspoken implications and looks said I was making excuses for his behavior. It took me a long time to stop caring what people think. It's very hard for me to admit this, but it took me a long time to not be embarrassed in public when T-Rex melted down or stimmed. Not because of him, but because I thought it somehow reflected on what kind of parent I was. I still blamed myself for having him prematurely. Looking back, I realize I did all the right things health-wise, he just was born when he was born for whatever reason. But then, I still blamed myself. I wondered if the ASD was a result of his prematurity, and therefore, also my fault since I couldn't keep him safe in my womb?

Then, a few months ago, I finally woke up. I realized what a gift God gave our family in T-Rex. The Creator of the Universe entrusted a tiny bundle of vast potential into our keeping. God knew what I had inside me to make sure this little boy grows into a young man. Who knows what great things T-Rex will do? And God gave me the privilege of raising him.

I had made ASD such a big part of our lives, when there was so much more to consider. Even though it is a pervasive part of our lives, ASD isn't who T-Rex is - it's just piece of the puzzle. He is who he is, and I love him so very much. Does that mean that I become complacent and not find out all I can about improving his quality of life? No way! I will always see what I can do to make things better for him. I will never stop researching, learning, hoping.

But I no longer grieve. And I no longer sit around wishing for The Way It Should Be.

The Way It Is is so much better! Here's The Way It Is:

I have four beautiful children, each unique, each so very loved by their dad and me!

I have been given an opportunity to grow, to learn how to lay aside my own selfish desires and trust in the knowledge that all things happen for a reason.

I have an opportunity to turn our family's pain into a source of help and comfort to others who may experience what we have. That has already happened several times. Who knows who you will meet when you are sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's office? I've had some great conversations in hospital lobbies and doctor's office waiting rooms. I probably would have never met these people in another setting, or if I had, I would have passed them right by without realizing the treasure inside them.

Through T-Rex, I have a rare glimpse inside a different perspective of people and the world in which we live. I don't always understand it, but I try. It has helped me be more compassionate, understanding, and appreciative of those who are different than me.

I am truly blessed. I have a great family and a great life. My circumstances don't rule me. My attitude about my circumstances makes all the difference. (I have to pray about that one every day, but I'm getting there - one step at a time).

No, I absolutely would not change The Way It Is for The Way (I Thought) It Should Have Been. What I have now is so much better than what I thought was right. What I thought was a great loss turned into the greatest blessing I've ever had! And who knows what great blessings the future holds. . . 

Today I've been thinking about how blessed I am to have been chosen for this experience of parenting a child with special needs. Sometimes, when I'm really tired and feel like I just can't handle one more meltdown at 1:00 a.m., I remind myself how fervently I asked God to give me another child - and the wonderful blessing with which I was answered.

All my children are blessings. I wouldn't trade any of them for any other child. With their special gifts and personalities, they enrich my life and teach me so much about the unconditional love of God. T-Rex is no exception. From the moment he arrived, almost three months too soon, he captured my heart and never let it go. Three years later, he still holds my heart in his chubby, sometimes grubby (right now berry-stained) palms.

I am learning to adapt to the wonderful personality that is uniquely T-Rex. He's fine. He knows who he is and what he needs. It is I who have had to change my way of thinking. I had to stop blaming myself for not carrying him long enough. I couldn't stop beating myself up after his diagnosis of developmental delays and autism spectrum disorder. It has been almost a year, and I grieved for several long months, wondering if there was anything I could have done differently, wondering if T-Rex's challenges were somehow my fault.

I grieved for the death of "The Way It Should Have Been." In a perfect world, the way it should have been would be me having a complication-free, joyful delivery, with Mr. Steady by my side. The way it should have been would have consisted of the smiling doctor placing my plump, full-term baby into my waiting arms, as Mr. Steady and I got lost in those little newborn eyes blinking up at us.

Instead, what I got was so much better than The Way It Should Have Been. When I saw my silent son, smaller than many dolls, struggling to take his first breath seconds after birth, only then did I truly comprehend what it meant to lay my own heart in God's hands and entrust one of my greatest desires (the desire that my child would live) to Him. When I lay in my hospital room, in excruciating pain, listening to the helicopter, knowing that helicopter was taking my baby three hours away to be placed in the care of strangers, then I truly understood what it meant to cast aside all my own selfish ambition and not demand that my baby stay by my side simply because I missed him terribly and wanted him with me. I had to learn to let go. In letting go, I  placed all my trust in a God I couldn't see with my eyes, but perceived within my heart.

Until that point, when I saw a medical helicopter in flight, I remotely knew someone's loved one was in there and I would say a quick prayer for their well being. This time that someone was me, the loved one was mine. Although my body lay broken and mending in a hospital room, every other part of me was in the air, willing my son to live so I could at least hold him in my arms and tell him how much he was loved. That day, I learned that all life is precious, and every person who is ill, in an accident, or in other peril is loved by somebody.  

When my little miracle came home after 57 days in intensive care, a couple of weeks before he "Should Have Been" born, another battle of the "Should Be's" took place. I should have been bringing home a healthy, full term baby. Instead, I brought home 6 pounds of baby and 20 pounds of oxygen tanks, tubing, monitors, and other equipment. But, again, what I got was so much better than what I thought Should Have Been.

Before we brought T-Rex home from the hospital, Mr. Steady and I received advanced first aid training that enabled me to remain calm and do what I needed to do when T-Rex had a seizure and turned blue a few weeks ago. Had I not received that initial training when I first brought him home, I wouldn't have been prepared for the unthinkable. I would have fallen apart and possibly endangered my son's well being if I hadn't already known what to do.

In caring for T-Rex, I learned the meaning of selfless love. I'm not always "pretty" on the inside, and sometimes I can get a really bad attitude when I'm exhausted and at the end of my parenting rope. But I still love. And I continue my journey on this path with all its unexpected turns - because I still have a job to do and blessings to love. And that's what counts in the end.

I learned that I can do harder things than I think I am capable of doing, when the need arises. And I learned what it means to rejoice in all the "little" milestones that so many people take for granted because they never had to fight so hard to reach them.

And, then, last year. . . The Diagnosis. My life is truly divided into two parts: the days before September 19, 2008, and every day since then. Tomorrow I will blog about what I have learned since then and why I will never trade The Way It Is for The Way It Should Have Been.

Well, it's official. Another school year has truly passed. The kids' academic test results arrived from the Christian Home Educators of WV (CHEWV) last week.

I can breathe a sigh of relief. Everyone did very well, and I can happily forward those results to the County Superintendent's office.

In our state, home educators are required to give a progress report, either in the form of approved testing (our family uses the Iowa Test of Basic Skills through CHEWV), or a portfolio reviewed by a licensed educator. We have to send those to our county Board Office by June 30 each year.

I'm a little ambivalent about the whole testing thing. On the one hand, it can be a helpful tool in determining areas of strengths and weaknesses, so that we can work on those areas the following year. On the other hand, sometimes I feel a little "hemmed-in" when it comes to teaching. I feel pressured to teach subjects that I KNOW are going to be covered on the test. Most of the time, I just want to relax and go with the flow of where our lessons are heading.

Guess what? I did that this past year. I relaxed a little. If, in the course of our lessons, something came up that really sparked a child's interest, I let that child pursue it. I tried not to worry about deadlines, completing a textbook, or the looming "testing date." And, two out of the three actually did better, score-wise, this year. (One remained the same - which is still a good indication of progress considering she's scoring at levels two or three grade levels above her actual grade.)

I have to say our testing environment is outstanding, as well. We test in a  fellowship hall of a church. The administrators are all college graduates, and the test groups are extremely small (my ADHD child was the only child in her grade level - the quiet environment helped her tremendously). Test administrators are excellent at presenting a very relaxed approach to testing while adhering to strict testing standards and encouraging all the children to do their best.

So, if we must test, I think we are blessed with one of the best testing groups a homeschool group could have.

That being said, thank God the testing is all over, at least for the next 10 months! :)

Something is happening. . . The world groans as economic woes abound, crime runs rampant, and sickness permeates numerous countries. Families are under attack from every arsenal available: divorce, rebellion, apathy, and hopelessness - the list is endless. Even families who follow Christ are not immune to these attacks. What’s going on?

Sometimes it seems as though a black shroud is slowly covering the Earth in a slow, painful death. Fear and questions grow daily as we see the headlines and witness events that sometimes take place right outside our doors. Yet. . . In all the chaos, anticipation stirs.

Something is happening.

Psalm 91 tells me if I dwell in the secret place of the Most High, I shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. What is this secret place?

The secret place of the Most High is our relationship with Him, that place in our innermost being where He dwells with us and we dwell with Him. The secret place is that place deep within where you just know “whom (you) have believed” (2 Timothy 1:12), and you are fully confident that He will keep you and sustain you, no matter what you face.

Lately, circumstances in my life have driven me even more than usual to my knees and to the Word of God (a good thing, I assure you). I am finding a treasure of promises and help in my darkest hours. God is very real and He will never abandon those who trust in Him, even if they feel God has forgotten them. He hasn’t. Those times when He seems the farthest away are the times He is closer to you than ever.

Psalm 91 is a passage of scripture that I often turn to these days. This amazing chapter reassures those who rest in the Shadow of the Most High that they will, indeed, be safe within His keep no matter what storms they encounter. And that is why, even in the midst of the turmoil, I feel anticipation stirring deep within. Why, you might ask?

Something is happening.

You know the expectant silence that follows when someone clears their throat to speak? Well, in a manner of speaking, I feel that God has “cleared His throat” and He is ready to speak the light of His truth into a world cloaked in darkness. He already did it once when He sent the Light of the World (Jesus) to make the way for us to know and trust our Heavenly Father. And now, He reminds me that the Light of the World is still with me, and even if everything around me shakes, I can stand firm in the grip of His promise.

I hope and pray that current personal crises and world events will usher in the greatest harvest of people into the Kingdom of God, more than the world has ever seen. I pray that people will hear His voice, turn to Him, and become men and women of great faith and passion for Christ, the likes of which the world has never seen before.

We, as parents, can  be part of this as we endeavor to help our children have living, loving relationships with Jesus Christ. We, as individuals, can be part of this as we cultivate our own living, loving relationships with Jesus Christ and let those personal relationships with Christ overflow into every area of our lives.

May I have ears to hear what He is saying during these times. May I continue to place my trust in Him!

Praise God, something is happening!

           I love driving on country roads and passing churches when they are open for services. When the lights are on, the warm glow from the windows reminds me of Thomas Kincaid’s best works of art. When the parking lots are full, the buildings themselves seem alive, welcoming the weary traveler to stop in, rest, and “taste and see that the Lord is good.”

            Things seem a little different, though, when the churches are empty. They seem somehow darker, silent shells bereft of the life that flowed inside just a few days or hours earlier.

            As I drove by an empty church the other day, the Lord reminded me of something I sometimes forget. The true church, the true body of Christ isn’t contained in four walls on a couple of designated days a week. The people of God are His “body”. Those who follow Christ and let His light shine through them every single day of their lives are the ones who bring His life and light to the world.

            We can have “church” anywhere, any time of day. When we spend time with people in our lives, ministering to them in love and patience, fixing a meal, helping with homework, or anything that requires us to give our time and ourselves, the Kingdom of God is manifested through us,  His people. When we stop for just a moment while busily grocery shopping and take time to listen to a stranger who may just need a smile and an encouraging word, that is as much “preaching a sermon” and living the gospel of Christ as it is gathering in a formal setting on Saturday, Sunday, or Wednesday.

            Am I anti-church? Absolutely not! All I’m thinking, is, I shouldn’t limit God and what He wants to do through His people to a couple of services within the same four walls a few times a week. He wants to work in and through His people every minute of every day of our lives and all it takes is our availability.

            So that’s my prayer today: that I will be available to Him, whether I am sitting in a church building, or I am picking up a few groceries at the local store. After all, I am part of His living “church”, and part of the “body” of Christ. If He wants me to be His hands, feet, or heart today, I pray that I will not only hear His voice, but that I will have the courage to be whatever He wants me to be to whomever He chooses. Then I will not be an empty “building” with no one inside, but I will hopefully show the light of Jesus that will point the way to Him.

N. had a seizure last Friday. He wasn't sick, didn't have a fever. It just...happened.

I was so afraid, looking into his glassy eyes that didn't see me. I struggled between fear and anger, the question of "why" ringing in my frantic mind.

We made it through the crisis, but now a question looms over us: will it happen again? Doctors say it might. So I'm watching, waiting...

Friends and relatives who are witnessing our family's homeschool journey have one of two opinions of me. Some say I'm the craziest woman they've ever known for homeschooling in the midst of medical problems (I live with health issues that are sometimes debilitating), broken water heaters, extreme home makeovers, and a child with special needs. Others think I'm Wonder Woman, some super woman of God who can leap over spiritual crises in a single bound.

Actually, I'm neither. I'm kind of in between, just an average mom who sometimes feels like the proverbial camel, waiting for that last straw to break my back. Sometimes I'm really angry with God, wondering why He doesn't snap His fingers and make it all better. Then I realize that while He doesn't always change the circumstances, He does change ME. In the midst of the "whys", the "I don't think I can handle one more thing", the "where are You, God", He is there and He is molding me into a stronger person.

Like an athlete who strength trains by resistance, my spirit is strengthened when I respond to every trial with calm resolve that this, too, will turn out okay, no matter what my natural eyes can see. I've also realized that little eyes are watching me to see how I respond when it all falls apart. I hope I can be an example of grace and strength in adversity so my children can learn how to stand strong when their worlds are shaken.

So, I press on, hug my blessings with renewed appreciation, and pray for more wisdom and strength to continue the journey.

Acts 20:24: "But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God."

How did you usher in the New Year? I spent my day flat on my back, felled by a little bug: strep. I couldn't talk for the blisters on my throat, my fever was 103, and I had four hungry kids and a tired husband missing me. I got over it in a week - one of the longest weeks of my life!

I was tired, but better, ready to begin the second semester of homeschool. Then, it happened: "The Big One." No one in our family really knows what happened, exactly, but my personal theory is our water heater was simply worn out from endless days of providing nice, warm water to bathe six people, wash tons of laundry, and do countless piles of dishes every day. I think it just quit. Whatever the reason, the dastardly thing went out with a bang.

It had leaked for weeks, hidden away in an enclosed closet, keeping its dark secret concealed from the Coburn Zoo.  Then, three weeks ago yesterday, it struck. Dan, my husband, was outside playing ball with the kids when he heard water rushing onto the ground under our home. When he checked, the heater had burst, leaving two rooms of damaged floor and moldy drywall in its wake.

We now faced the task of replacing flooring, drywall, and insulation during one of the coldest weeks this Winter. Temperatures were below zero some nights. We had a gaping hole in the middle of our home!

I rubbed my temples in frustration. How in the world was I going to teach these children from a motel room, in the middle of my extreme home makeover? Every day I pray for wisdom, but during this time, I practically begged for it.

As always, the Lord in His graciousness answers all my petitions. What a grand opportunity we faced! Here was another time to teach the children the art of flexibility, not to mention home improvement skills. We also humbly learned the folly of not regularly checking on our water heater (even though we'd had a professional check it over just months before the big event). It was a good lesson to pass on to our children. We were able to apply spiritual lessons to this as well - how sin in the heart can fester, supposedly unseen, until it can no longer be hidden.  We applied this lesson by explaining how, like checking the water heater, we should daily ask the Lord to help us examine our hearts, apply His word, and stay connected to Him so we do not fester and ruin on the inside.

As we repaired walls and replaced floors, we talked about how Christ cleans out the sin in our lives when we come to Him. He not only cleans us out, but He gives us a new heart and a new life. Our home is slowly returning to "normal" (whatever that is), and we are spending valuable time with our children, teaching them spiritual and practical lessons they will need to make them everything their Creator intended for them to be.

Yes, it was challenging. Our water froze (yet another obstacle), N. had trouble since his routine was interrupted (children with Autism generally need a reliable routine), and we were really tired at times. But, the Lord brought us through it all, and He taught not only our children some precious lessons, but He also taught Danny and me more great truth about His mercy and grace!

And, by the way, the "academics" were always done! The joy of homeschooling is the kids can do their homework almost anywhere, almost any time. The kids will always remember the hands-on lessons and life skills they received through all this . God is so good!

Thank you for reading my blog, and may God richly bless your family in all the "Real Life Lessons" you face!

Please feel free to contact me or leave a comment! I love your comments and appreciate all of them! God bless you!

I admit it, last year was rough. We were trying to homeschool, and numerous medical problems hit various members of the family.  On top of it all, N.  needed speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, and sometimes in home nursing care.  I felt like I was running in a million directions; trying to manage all the doctors' appointments, feed the family, teach 3 children, deal with Nehemiah's three weekly therapy appointments...it was overwhelming. I panicked as I felt my dreams of the well managed classroom, phenomenal test scores, and my perfectly behaved, loving learning children fly right out of my tighty clutched hands.

I cried out to God many times for wisdom in managing all this. Last May, when school was finished for the year, I sat back and evaluated the past year. I also looked ahead and wondered what I could do to make this year much easier for all of us.

The following outlines some of the plan I have implemented to help our family manage all we have to do in a day. These simple changes have helped tremendously. Our days can still be hectic, but I can honestly say there's more peace in our home and our homeschool.

First, I had to learn to relax a little, let go of some things, and remind myself that for our family, homeschooling isn't about copying the public school's schedule and agenda. It's about my children learning more than just how to be good test takers. It's about teaching them to be young men and women of God who can capably handle whatever life may hand them. To that end, here are some of the changes we made:

I decided to change the school week. Instead of Monday through Friday, we do lessons Monday through Thursday, leaving Fridays free for doctors' appointments, therapy, and errands. This simple change in schedule has been so beneficial for our family. The kids love it, and they actually work more on the four days we have lessons. Fridays can be busy, but they are so more relaxed, because I'm not trying to squeeze lessons between appointments, teach in the car, and grade papers in waiting rooms. It's nice knowing that this day is set aside to pay bills, see doctors, grocery shop, or whatever we need to do without worrying that the kids are missing out on an important lesson. I've also learned to incorporate little "lessons" into the everyday stuff we do. On Fridays, when we get groceries, the kids help with meal planning, budgeting, finding the best deals, and all aspects of shopping and interacting with others. It's like we have a field trip every Friday.

On those rare days when we must do something and it isn't Friday (perhaps a therapist needs to see N. on a different day of the week), I try to schedule those later in the afternoon. That way, the day's lessons are mostly done, and no one is distracted or sidetracked from their work.

With all my children, I use an eclectic blend of curriculum, but I have found a couple of items that work really well with my older ones. For math, I use the Saxon DIVE CDs. The kids pop these into the computer, do their lessons, and I check their work. They are learning to work independently, and this frees me to do what I need to do with N. as far as his daily therapy goes. Of course, Dad and I oversee all their lessons, and one of us is always nearby if the kids need extra help, but this program has been a lifesaver for our family!

I also use Alpha Omega Lifepacs for some of the other subjects. This also helps my older ones work more independently. The Lifepacs are so teacher friendly! The teacher manuals have a wonderful grade recording system, alternate tests, and activity suggestions for each Lifepac.

I love to teach History, so we have a great time with History and Social Studies Unit Studies. This allows N.  to participate in the hands on activities and field trips, and it brings us closer as a family. One of my favorite resources in History is the Story of the World books by Susan Wise Bauer. The activity books are full of great, family incorporated ideas to reinforce what is being learned.

I have a dry erase board that I use every day. Each morning, I write the date, what I expect from each child as far as school work and chores go. I include a Bible verse, and the reminder, "Remember how much I love you! Have a wonderful day!" The kids like having that central location to check on their assignments for the day, and it saves alot of interruptions when I'm teaching another child.

I also created a "Media Center" for the kids' books. We live in a mobile home, so we're very limited on space. I found a small bookshelf, placed it lengthwise in a hallway, and filled it with books. I placed a basket for each child on top of the shelf. This basket holds their books, work, and planners. We aren't constantly scrambling around trying to find a book. The kids know their books go back in the basket when they're through for the day. I also found a small, portable kitchen pantry that I turned into a shelf for my teacher books and school supplies. I placed a basket on top of this shelf for the kids to place their completed assignments that are ready for grading. When I'm finished, the kids' papers go back into their own baskets.

We all have school planners, which I purchased at the local Dollar Tree. For a mere four bucks, I am now able to coordinate the week with all my children. On Mondays, we sit down for a brief meeting before we start our school day, decide what assignments are going to be done, what is due and when, and what tests and field trips are planned for the week. It has saved me alot of nagging and playing catch up with the kids. Now they know and I know what they are going to be doing on a particular day.

We have a routine, but not a rigid schedule. I think this is an important difference. We have certain days that we expect to do things, but we are flexible enough to go with the flow when necessary. For example, Fridays or Saturdays are library days, depending upon which day we have the most time. It's not set in stone, but the kids have the expectation that some time during the weekend, we're going to the library. I picked up a free tote bag when I attended a local fair last summer. We take that bag to the library to fill with our books, and when we are finished with the books at home, we put them in the bag to take back to the library. That way, we always know where the books are, and that's an extra timesaver when it comes to getting out of the house and getting our errands done.

These changes have been a huge help in helping our home and our homeschool run more smoothly. Does life still happen? Sure! Our home always has that lived-in look, someone gets sick, I get tired, but the key is, we manage. We make time for what's truly important. Living and family. I would love to have a spotless house, but we don't have to have perfection. There's a huge difference between having a house and making a home, and my prayer is that when the kids grow up, they will remember that they lived in a home. The kids help with the meal preparation (another sneaky math lesson), and we somehow make it through each day by the grace of God. We have turned gardening and harvest into science lessons. God always makes a way for us to do His will when we are doing what He asks us to do.

Oh, and by the way, we survived last year (the sky didn't fall and my kids didn't become derelicts who couldn't add two and two). God is always in control, and I'm so grateful for the wisdom and grace He gives to meet my every need!

Happy homeschooling!

Just what do I think I'm doing? The ever present question rears its ugly head once again as K., my twelve year old, slams her book shut in frustration and cries, "Mom, I can't concentrate when N.'s screaming!"

I bounce N. on my hip and try to soothe the inconsolable two year old as he goes into another meltdown over the sensation of wearing his shirt.  N. was born three months prematurely and has multiple special needs, including Sensory Integration Dysfunction and Sensory Modulation Dysfunction. I am learning his triggers, but today, I simply forgot that buttons on his shirts send him into a tailspin.

"I'm sorry, honey," I call to K. above the racket. "Can you try reading in your room until I get him calmed down?"

A., my fourteen year old, peeps out from behind his bedroom door. "It won't work, Mom. We can hear him everywhere!"

M., my eight year old, enthusiastically echoes her brother's sentiments. "Does this mean I'm done for the day?"

"Guys, I'm sorry. Give us a few minutes."

I take N.  into the well worn rocking chair in my bedroom and sit, defeated, tears seeping from my closed eyelids. Was I a fool to think I could give my children the best education in the midst of this chaos? I kiss the top of N.'s curly haired head. "It's not your fault, dear," I whisper as his screams turn to whimpers while he squirms uncomfortably in my lap, trying to decompress.

I look heavenward. "God, can I really do this? What am I thinking? How can I teach my other three children when I am so wrapped up in the needs of one?"

I take a deep breath and try to remember why I started homeschooling in the first place. I removed my children from public school and stepped up to my calling as their mother to give them the best education of how to not only know more about God, but to also KNOW Him, and therefore, to be everything He created and called them to be.

But the questions rear their ugly heads. What about academics? You're wasting time, here, you know. You should be out there drilling equations and grammar with them. You know they're going to be behind when it comes to assessment testing. What kind of mother are you?

"God, can You make something good out of this mess?"

God reminds me of a mosaic I recently did with the children. We selected and glued little pieces of glass and stone until we made a nice picture of a butterfly.

Webster's American Dictionary of the English Language (1828 Version) defines a mosaic as, "...an assemblage of little pieces of glass, marble, and precious stones...of various colors, cut square and cemented on a ground of stucco, in such a manner as to imitate the colors and gradations of painting."

Little pieces. Broken pieces. The daily challenges we face as a family as we navigate the unsure waters of N.'s special needs. The questions I have about my ability to be my children's teacher. The sometimes crazy schedule of doctors' appointments, occupational therapy sessions, and life itself. The hurts. The disappointments. All these are little pieces of broken glass, taken from fragments of our lives as we journey through this imperfect world.

The precious stones. The smiles. The joy. The laughter. The first time N. hugged us. The first time he looked into our eyes and smiled a real smile at age two. The times the children thank me for keeping them home where they belong as they master a math concept or hand me an example of exceptional writing. The promises in God's word that He will never leave me nor forsake me. The promise He gives that He will give me everything I need to complete this precious task He has called me to.

God takes all these pieces, refines them with His deep love for me, and turns my life into a beautiful work of art that imitates the character of Christ. This happens as I serve my family and teach my children compassion, patience, and perseverance in dealing with their brother and his needs.

The academics are always taken care of in due time during a day. The work is always done somehow and done well. My children have been just fine when they take the achievement tests required each year by our state. My worries seem so trivial as I am reminded of the big picture, that it isn't just about the math and science, but also about how my children develop into the young men and women God intends them to be.

 I now see these broken pieces as opportunities for growth in my life, and in the life of my family. We can learn to become more like Christ as we grow as a family and learn the power of unity in many of life's situations, something that would be very hard to do if my older children were in public school over eight hours a day. We learn how to be flexible. We discover ways to learn even in the most challenging of circumstances, and that equips my children for life - their world won't always be "just so", but they can still progress and move toward their goals. 

We discover that N.'s special needs are a blessing, rather than a hindrance to our homeschool. He teaches us compassion, as we ponder the awesome fact that God trusted us enough to send us this wonderful, special child. He teaches us how to respond to other children who may have special needs - not with discomfort and ignorance, but with dignity and grace.

We aren't a perfect mosaic, but we are a mosaic, beautiful in the eyes of our loving Creator. And He isn't finished with us. There are many more pieces yet to be cemented on the ground of our hearts, making us into a Christ-like work of art. The process isn't easy, but it sure is exciting, and I wouldn't change it for the world!