The message I want you to hear is this: God's kingdom is different.
And if you've plunged into that difference, and you're sinking more than you're swimming . . . I'm sorry. I grieve with you, because I know how painful that is.
But keep going.
It Is Intense to Deal with The Fall
In 2009, we moved from a comfortable suburban life to unimproved land, and we got a bunch of animals.
I'm not a vegan, so on some level I knew that death happens so I could eat, but I was unprepared for how much death happened, especially when I didn't expect it.
I went from a safe environment, where I was mostly cut off from the effects of The Fall, to a place where I was immersed in both the incredible life that springs forth (plant a seed, get an edible treat!), and the reality of death that hangs over us at all times.
I had been able to ignore this in suburbia. But I came face to face with The Fall on the land. An almost constant reminder that life ends in death—and it stunned me.
It is possible that you find yourself in a similar place today. Not necessarily over physical death of a chicken from hawk predation (or, if so, you know you're in the minority).
But if you are at home with your children, you are dealing with the effects of The Fall every day. Broken relationships, broken responses. And broken relationships and broken responses are even more painful than the death of animals.
Especially if you have had children in school for some years, you are dealing with a whole new level of connection. And that is, in some ways, like my move to the land—exciting for the ways life springs forth, crushing for the new ways you face brokenness every day.
Comparatively, I can see that it can seem far, far easier to send children away to be taught by others. It involves less time, less trauma, less turmoil.
But . . . if your children are away, you are removed from both the trials and the joys.
And I know that some days, that might sound appealing (let someone else deal with this!).
But, really, you know that life is good. Connection is good. The pain, the pushing through, the relief, the joy, when something new is born.
And if it's surprisingly painful and raw . . . yes. That is life.
More to come.
John and Sarita's oldest daughter
Homeschooling mom to five