Measuring Up
“How are you doing?”
Ever since the dawn of a new decade where the most “normal” thing I have experienced so far is Mardi Gras, this question has become quite a loaded ask.
“How am I doing?”
Well, by one measure I could answer with a “fine.” This casual response probably comes as a relief to my friendly inquirer that I didn’t unpack any issues, anxieties and emotions that bubble just below the surface.
On some level I am fine. My family and I are healthy, we both have our jobs, our kids aren’t showing any signs of major trauma. By this measure, we haven’t really been affected by the chaos of 2020 like some people.
"How are you doing?”
In the times when I am feeling a little more vulnerable, my go to response seems to be, “I’m homeschooling.” This seems to sum it up for people and they back away slowly with faces that offer both their condolences and well wishes.
I’m homeschooling, which is code for running around like a chicken with my head cut off and the chicken is on fire! Now, it must be said that there are amazing parents out there whose gift and calling is to homeschool their kids. Anyone that knows me, knows I am not one of those parents.
Full transparency, it’s not going well. We have had to change routines, curriculums, and strategies more than celebrities change spouses. I can probably count on two hands the number of days that haven’t ended in tears from one of my three children or myself. Least I fail to also mention the twenty hundred hurricanes that have threatened Louisiana which brought disruptions and our emotional stress to another level. Like searching for the lost ark, since September I have been trying to find a rhythm to our days that brings some balance and routine for my kids and I. I’ve heard homeschool parents describe this rhythm as the “pace of peace.” Clearly I am doing this wrong.
Perhaps what baffles me even more is that my husband and I were certain this was the Lord’s will. We put the God stamp on this dumpster fire! While I know that following the Lord’s lead isn’t always easy, I suppose I had an expectation that it would be beneficial at the least. With the constant war and tears over multiplication facts, failed science experiments, and my kids growing more and more uneducated by the minute, It is safe to say that we are not measuring up to how I saw this going in my mind.
“How are you doing?”
Truth be told I’m not ok. I’m stressed, I’m anxious, and I just can’t keep all of the plates spinning. I’m behind, I can’t catch up, and I’m scared that I am failing my kids. I am tired, I get grumpy, and at the end of the day I have nothing left for my husband. Needless to say it is taking a toll on on our marriage.
So what does one do when you’re overwhelmed and feel like your not measuring up? You do what any normal homeschool family does; you run away with your family to Nashville and get a puppy. Because why not; it’s 2020.
But it turns out that God’s refining fire finds you even on the wet streets of Nashville. It was in that spot that I watched my precious middle child unsolicitedly ask his father for some money to give to a homeless man we passed as we came out of a shop. Proudly watching the exchange as he handed the gentleman the money, the life giving whisper of God spoke to me and said,
“You are using the wrong measuring stick.”
With gaze shifted from the temporal to the eternal, I knew exactly what he meant. All of this time I had been thinking the call to homeschool was about providing consistent education for my boys amidst the pandemic. By this measure, I was failing miserably. But God was after things far more beautiful, far more eternal.
He is after my boys hearts. I see his pursuit in our once lacking spiritual exchanges and family devotions that have now found their place amidst our morning “Stickles scramble” routine.
He’s after the wounds that wreck havoc in my life; making me realize that I don’t have to be the one to hold everything together. I need my people to help. Even more I need God to hold the worries of my life.
He is after my marriage; exposing the parts that are vulnerable to the enemy and molding us into what he desires for us in this marriage. Only the perfect love of God could know that this train wreck of a season we call homeschooling would be just the ticket to accomplish these things.
We can’t measure the work and ways of God by worldly standards. The things of God often seem foolish to this world. On the streets of Nashville God gave me eyes to see that I needed to stop trying to measure up. I needed to stop reaching for a lie that a rhythm and routine would make everything ok. Instead, I need to reach for him.
If I do that, I believe I will find a “pace of peace” and I really will be doing more than fine.