Well, hello there! Â It has been at least two weeks that I’ve been trying to publish this post! Â Its not for lack of trying, but there just hasn’t been a spare moment. Â It has been a few weeks ago now that we harvested our pumpkins. Â I haven’t grown them before so I don’t know if we planted them too soon, planting them way back in April when we planted everything else. Â However, the pumpkins seemed ready, the vine had completely taken over that corner of our back yard and I was ready to pull it out and clean up the garden a bit. Â Philippa had requested planting pumpkins in the kids little garden box and she tended them carefully over the summer. Â She was delighted to harvest them. Â As it turns out, she grew exactly six healthy pumpkins, one for each of us. Â It really still amazes me the volume of life, plant matter, and abundance that came from one little pumpkin seed. Â A little bit of investment, a whole lot of yield. Â It’s God’s way. Â We may not always see it this side of heaven, but I believe it is His way, and why He asks us to faithfully steward what He gives.
So there are pumpkins in August lined up on our porch and I don’t know what to do with them yet being it is only just barely beginning to feel like autumn.  The sun and humidity still blaze hot.  I guess it really is possible for me to decorate with pumpkins too early.  Now I know. 🙂  But we are trying to enjoy them just the same, and the kids are hoping they last until carving time in October.  Doubtful, I know.
Last week we began our fifth year of homeschooling. Â What a marvel. Â I never imagined myself doing this, investing my life in this way, yet here I am. Â I really do love it so much. That is not to say that it doesn’t exhaust me entirely, keep me up at nights with anxiety, questions, uncertainty, or that I don’t fail terribly at it many days. Â It does do all of those things and I do fail at it terribly and often wonder if it just too large for me. Â Maybe one day it will be, and it will be time to shift into something else. Â Yet the reality is, it is truly too large for me and it requires dependence on the Lord and a whole lot of grace and sanctification. Â I resist that. Â I imagine that if it is God’s will for us than maybe it should feel easier or more natural than it does. Â Yet I’ve learned that God equips whom He calls, and not the other way around. Â I’ve learned that that equipping sometimes comes slow and daily, humbling me more than I’d like.
With each passing year I feel more sure of our approach to homeschooling, I seem to find my way and my confidence a little more. Â I am learning what everyone has always said, how valuable the relationship and connection is over simply plowing through material at all costs. Â I am learning to laugh and relax more, to set aside a lesson when there are tears of frustration, to make more time for play, wonder, discovery. Â I’m seeing the fruits of our labors and it is encouraging! Â I really hope it is our best year yet. Â Philippa has begun her first year, what a special milestone. Â She was overjoyed when some of her new books arrived and she counted down the days until the first day of school last Monday. Â She could hardly sleep the night before. Â She asks me for extra work every day and she can’t learn to read fast enough. Â I hope her zeal never diminishes, what a joy to have an eager student!
I also began weaning Wren this week and it has made me so much more emotional than I anticipated. Â I cried late in bed last night, remembering how these last ten+ years of almost constant pregnancy or breastfeeding have been the very sweetest years of my life, the work I knew I would love yet never dreamed I could enjoy as much as I have. Â To wean the little one that will probably be my last, to see my children growing out of the baby years and into the big kid years — it is beautiful but also I don’t want to see this season go. Â I know so many mothers cannot wait to progress and get beyond these little years, and I can understand. Â They have certainly had their challenges and they’ve taken a toll on my body. Â Yet they have been so very, very sweet. Â And I for one don’t want to let them go.
I was working in the garden the other day and thinking about how we don’t grow food as wisely as we could. Â We grow mainly for immediate use, we like to basically have our own little backyard grocery. Â We share the overabundance with others, I don’t preserve much of anything, really. Â Yet the wisdom in seasons is that one should grow in summer all that they will need in winter. Â Spring is for possibility, dreaming, beginning, preparing the soil and the elements for a yield. Â The summer time is the time for growing as much as possible for the winter months so that there will be food when the growing season is done. Â The winter is for enjoying the fruits of your summer work and resting from the weary toll of all the labor. Â The ground is iron, the cold makes most growing impossible. Â It is a metaphor for life and every year we are given a reminder in our seasons of what the trajectory of our life will be. Â Our youngest years, the preparing of the soil, the planting of the seeds. Â Our summer years — our middle years — are hopefully our most productive, our time to yield as much as possible and store up for the winter of our life. Â Winter will surely come, when our strength and resources wane. Â And these children are so precious, and I just want to give them everything I can, you know? Â All the summer yield to build them up, spur them out, shoot them out into the world to do mighty things. Â It’s all I want with my life, to be their biggest champion and advocate on this planet.
So the seasons shift again, ever so slightly. Â We ease slowly back into our structures, the anchors for our days rocking us back in their steady rhythm. Â We welcome pumpkins earlier than we’d like, we return to our homeschool co-op and savor gathering with friends to learn again, for however long we can. Â I end my days bone tired with a to-do list longer than I can ever conquer, work always brimming up and over, spilling into tomorrow. Â Such good, weary, long, hard, beautiful days.
Welcome with me our newest little 4th grader, 2nd grader, Kindergartener, and littlest mischief-maker sidekick. Â If you have children in your life who are in the school years, I pray a special blessing over them right now. Â May we do our best for our children this year and every year.