Professional Mothers

Since the feminists cultural coup, there have been only two models for stay-at-home mothers: the ineffectual, bon-bon munching ditz or the manipulative, invasive witch. No room for wits, intellectuals, creative geniuses or entrepreneurs here.

Nevertheless - and this is the secret that the femisists are desperate to keep from young women - they exist (even flourish) as stay-at-home moms to this day. What's more, they are usually raising those children who reject the current notions of adolescence. These are the women who regard motherhood as the most challenging and influencial of careers. They are Professional Mothers.

I'd like you to meet a few of the very best. Next time: Professional Mothers.

Mother Tongue

We all remember the story of Babel, that disastrous experiment in human unity and autonomy. Men united around a single ideology of self-improvement and self-aggrandizement for the purpose of seizing a Heaven without God. God's mildly amused response to this itty-bitty uprising was to confuse men's language, literally, to confuse their "lip".

James Jordan's book, "Primeval Saints", clarifies,

"As we begin the story of the Tower of Bable we read, 'Now the whole earth used the same language and the same words' (Gen 11:1)...The phrase 'same words' refers to language, but the phrase 'same lip' - literally 'one lip' - refers to religion (Zeph 3:9; Ps 81:5; etc)...What happened at Babel was not first and foremost a division of languages, but rather a division
of religious belief..."

So what has religion got to do with language? Why would a division of religious belief have the secondary effect of dividing language?

Well, in some fundamental way God IS language. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God..." (Jn 1:1) And we are created in the image of that Word.

Ephesians 1, that delicious exposition of the purposes of the Trinity in making and redeeming man, is shot through with this refrain: "to the praise of his glory...." Apparently, our underlying purpose is to glorify God, and our mother-tongue is praise. When we will not speak the praise of God, we no longer speak our mother-tongue.

But James Jordan further reflects:

"The Christian knows that God has established Christianity
to create a true unity of confession (the lip) among allnations and peoples, but this unity will not destroy the diversity of languages. Instead, each nation and language will praise Him in its own tongue (Rev 7:9)...Every language has a particular set of perspectives on the Word of God, and thus every language
is fitted to reveal God and praise Him in a special way. Throughout eternity the saints will delight to learn language after language, learning to praise God in new ways, age after age, forever and ever."

As a mother, I have a good deal of influence over what is said in my home. As I pursue a unity that does not crush the individual, I pursue God's praise. As I pursue understanding among the members of my household, I pursue God's praise. And as I pursue joy outstripping despair, I pursue God's praise.

May all our homes become fluent in praise, the song of Heaven, the language of power, and our true Mother-tongue.

Evolving Conflict

Douglas Wilson, author of "Why & What?", invites us, "Imagine you are mistaken about everything you hold dear. Suppose you woke up one morning and realized that your long-held, day-to-day views of nature, social values and self were obviously mistaken..."

Not likely. Yet that is exactly what we Christians expect of the non-Christians we meet. If we are bold enough to present some kind of a Christian worldview, we expect that others should gladly ditch their cherished notions, the worldview that they have believed holds back chaos and evil, in an instant.

Nowhere has my family seen this more clearly than in our work as volunteer docents at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. This is a thorough-going secular, evolutionist institution. We knew that going in, and chose to work in the space exploration section so as to avoid having to teach against conscience.

Nevertheless, we have had plenty of opportunities to trumpet the strength of Western science as it rests on the flexibility of the scientific method, and to ask our fellow-workers (even the curators) to apply it equally to evolutionary concepts as well as to competing theories. The scientific method means that we begin by acknowleding that we do not have the whole picture and we must remain open to the new possibilities indicated by new evidence - even if they seem to support an opposing theory.

Because of our hard work learning, engaging visitors, innovating new approaches to the displays, and because of our genuine interest in our co-workers, museum staff and volunteers are willing to listen to us. They are even willing to take cautious steps toward doubting their evolutionary foundations.

However, the recent revival in court of the Creationist/Evolutionist conflict over the Dover School District policy of characterising all proposed scientific systems of origins as theories, we are facing new hostility. And some of that hostility rises from the tactics of Christians who visit the museum.

Several well-meaning Christian groups give guided tours of the museum, teaching the students they lead to mock evolutionary ideas. While this may be a fun way to build rapport with a group of students who come together for a short time, it makes a poor witness. The museum has recently released an advisory on how to deal with such Christians. Many volunteers plan to use mockery in return.

What many of us have failed to realize is that this is not a scientific debate. It is not even a rational debate. The evolutionists at the museum are, at best, ill-informed about the Intelligent Design position. Their reaction is purely emotional.

We would do well to remember that we are asking them to consider that everything they hold dear is wrong. If we would have them hear our facts, we must address their fear first.

Silencing Foes

Children die in infancy. Three of mine died before birth. Yesterday, my good friend’s granddaughter died after only a few weeks of struggle and pain in this world.

And now it is we who must struggle in pain again. Struggle against the temptation to see God as either cruel or impotent.

I have found few real comforts in the loss of little ones. But this is the chief: Psalm 8.

“Out of the mouths of children and tiny nursing babes
From the lips of the little ones, God has ordained His praise.
He has ordained His praise, because of His enemies.
Lord, give our children a heart to know You.
Let their song silence Your foes!”
(paraphrase by Judy Rogers)

My dead children, and my friend’s granddaughter will always be children. Let their songs silence His foes!

A Liturgy of Learning

James Jordan, in his book, Primeval Saints, has a wonderful study of the manner in which worship transforms our work and enables us in turn to transform the broken, ugly and unformed into something more and more glorious.

Jordan points out that God models for us again and again the six-fold pattern for our work.

1. We lay hold on the world.
2. We give thanks.
3. We break it up and restructure it.
4. We distribute it to others.
5. We evaluate it.
6. We enjoy it.

Does this look familiar? It is the pattern of the Creation Week, of the Old Testament sacrificial system, of the Communion service, and (except for the thanksgiving part) it is a pattern that we cannot help but follow. Jordan maintains that if we, as believers, discipline ourselves to give thanks, it is the pattern for dominion, for cultural revitalization.

Let us apply this thinking to teaching and training our children.

1. We lay hold on our child and some subject matter - say math.
2. We give thanks. (Isn't this key? At my house there is a good deal of whining from the natural man when math is the subject.)
3. We break it down and restructure it. (So we use small, logical pieces, turning them this way and that so that our children can grasp the concepts no matter what their learning style.)
4. We distribute it. (When we have found the perspective that works for that child, we give it to them to apply to further problems. If we really want things to stick in their minds, we make opportunities for them to distribute this concept to someone else - perhaps by tutoring a younger sibling or by creating some interesting display)
5. We evalutate it. (We check those practice problems, see if the machine works, taste the sauce....)
6. We enjoy it. (Now, we finish the whole problem set with more ease, let the machine work for us, eat the whole dinner...)

And before we have done, we would do well to point out that this is the way they will be able to conquer any subject.

Creator of Evil?

Thought you might enjoy this as much as I did, especially in light of the disputes over a local school district's attempt to balance Evolutionary theory with a mention of Intelligent Design theory. But more on that later...

For now, "Evil, Cold & Darkness" (does anyone know who wrote this?)

Did God create everything that exists? Does evil exist? Did God create evil? A University professor at a well known institution of higher learning challenged his students with this question. "Did God create everything that exists?"
A student bravely replied, "Yes he did!"
"God created everything?" The professor asked.
"Yes sir, he certainly did," the student replied.
The professor answered, "If God created everything; then God created evil. And, since evil exists, and according to the principal that our works define who we are, then we can assume God is evil."
The student became quiet and did not answer the professor's hypothetical definition. The professor, quite pleased with himself, boasted to the students that he had proven once more that the Christian faith was a myth.
Another student raised his hand and said, "May I ask you a question, professor?" "Of course", replied the professor. The student stood up and asked, "Professor does cold exist?"
"What kind of question is this? Of course it exists. Have you never been cold?" The other students snickered at the young man's question.
The young man replied, "In fact sir, cold does not exist. According to the laws of physics, what we consider cold is in reality the absence of heat. Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-460 F) is the total absence of heat; and all matter becomes inert and incapable of reaction at that temperature. Cold does not exist. We have created this word to describe how we feel if we have no heat."
The student continued, "Professor, does darkness exist?" The professor responded, "Of course it does." The student replied, "Once again you are wrong sir, darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in reality the absence of light. Light we can study, but not darkness. In fact, we can use Newton's prism to break white light into many colors and study the various wavelengths of each color. You cannot measure darkness. A simple ray of light can break into a world of darkness and illuminate it. How can you know how dark a certain space is? You measure the amount of light present. Isn't this correct? Darkness is a term used by man to describe what happens when there is no light present."
Finally the young man asked the professor, "Sir, does evil exist?"
Now uncertain, the professor responded, "Of course, as I have already said. We see it everyday. It is in the daily examples of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil.
To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist, sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat, or the darkness that comes when there is no light."
The professor sat down

Harvest Home

Every Autumn, our family celebrates the turn of the season with certain treasured rituals. We harvest our honey, and with it bake Honey Baklava. We exchange our blue, silver and crystal summer accessories throughout the house for the coral, russet and brass that light our interiors just as the turning leaves light a gloomy autumn day. We lift the crowded lilies and iris in our garden and give the excess away. We prepare the fireplace for that first magical evening which is cold enough to give us an excuse to light a fire.

As we do so, we remind ourselves that in these little celebrations, we imitate our Creator, who dresses the world according to the season. And the changes remind us to look at things with fresh eyes and renewed gratitude.

Autumn is the time to look back and gloat over the growth and harvest the Lord has brought from all our labors. Even our autumn holidays encourage this: Columbus Day, All-Saints Day, Reformation Day, Thanksgiving.

This year, I am especially giving thanks for my Grandparents, who are this Fall re-united in the Lord’s own Harvest-Home. I miss them very much. They were brave and strong. Their Wyoming homestead was where I first learned the delights of the harvest. And their faithful prayers sustained four generations through the dangers of the Journey. They taught me not to fear growing old.

I trust they are gloating….


ORCHARD SWINGS

The knife slipped as the first wave of panic licked over her like a furnace blast. Mara let out a slow breath to calm her racing heart, her blouse drenched with sweat suddenly cutting into her burning skin at throat, shoulders, wrists. She cranked the window open wide, gulping in the spicy autumn air cooled by the rustle of apple leaves just outside. Glumly, she surveyed the wedding cake bleeding from among the frosting roses where she had gouged it a moment before.
"Fifty guests in two hours. I can't do it! It's their 65th wedding anniversary. It ought to be done right, and I can't even hold an icing knife," she thought, bitterly as her Old Testament namesake.
"This isn't like you. You love entertaining. You're good at it. Hormones," she told herself firmly, "It's just hormones."
Suddenly, Mara felt disfigured, a grotesque parody of herself. "Exactly," she thought, "and it's only going to get worse." It seemed so unfair, spending decades developing skills, assembling knowlege, stretching for character, nurturing friendships and responsibilities in order to be useful, even lovely to God and His people. And now, to be trapped in this turncoat body, unable to depend on the simplest emotional resource. She could have dealt with the headaches, the hot flashes, the sleeplessness, even the sorrow of leaving childbearing behind. But the hormone-induced rage and depression left her afraid to face friends and family with that black hole sucking hard-won confidence and easy competence alike down into an uncertain abyss..."Here it is, the first kiss of death."
Shaking the tears from her cheeks, she bent to repair the damage, setting herself to think instead about the grandparents she meant to honor with the cake.
The Grandfather of her youth had been such a broad-shouldered, blustery rogue. Teasing and joking, thrilling little girls with gentle samples of his barn-storming stunt flying, weeping over his prayers. Eyes merry with mischief, he would push her in the orchard swing until at last he would swing her so high, he could run underneath her as she shrieked to the dizzy peak.
These days he shuffled with a stroke-induced paralysis in one leg, and his eyes were more often harsh with a stony determination to find the right word before someone noticed his deficiency.
Mara remembered falling asleep as a child, head pillowed on Grandmother's shoulder, lulled by the drowsy counterpoint of rustling leaves and Grandmother's prayer list. They would have spent the day climbing trees, pelting down the apples and turning them into treasures of carnelian and amber jellies, accompanied by a steady stream of family lore, homely advice, Bible stories and helpless, exhausted laughter.
Now Grandmother would not remember whether she was pouring jelly or washing the ladle. At least now it no longer troubled her. In the early stages of the Alzheimers', Grandmother had leaned on Mara's shoulder, slow tears silvering her weathered cheeks, confiding, "You have no idea how awful it is not to be able to remember things."
"Oh, I have some idea, Grandmother," Mara whispered to the icing foliage, swallowing the lump of fear and shame rising in her throat, cold with the thought of the unbroken line of women in her family who had gone down to death through that fog of forgetfulness.
The week before, Mara had watched her Grandfather choking down his exasperation, like Syssiphis, explaining again and again why Grandmother needed her good shoes for church, struggling to give her some dignitiy in her infirmities. Handing him the shoes in question, Mara had voiced the doubt welling up like a sob, "How do you keep going? What compensation does God give you in these losses?"
He flashed her his old grin. "You might think you have it good now, but whatever good things you can imagine, that's nothing to what we'll have in heaven! It's not...You can't even think about it!" he finished, words failing him on several accounts.
Turning that searchlight smile on his wife he glowed, "Right old girl?" and squeezed Grandmother's knee roguishly.
"You brute!" she squealed, slapping him for effect, "I'll show you!" And kicking on her last shoe, she showered a rain of most un-grandmotherly kisses on his laughing face. It was a pas-de-du Mara remembered from her earliest days.

**************

"Mom, do you need some help?" Mara looked up into her son's earnest face. "Everybody will be here soon. Could I put on the music or something?"
"Thanks, Daniel. And would you take over setting the food out on the table? I have to write something in the grandparents' card." Mara disappeared down the hall listening to Daniel booming out an old hymn in his brand-new baritone as he worked.
"That's the one thing Grandmother can still remember," she recalled the rich soprano that still perfumed the air wherever her grandmother was. "Every verse..every word..like breathing.."
Mara chewed her pencap, then began:

"Long ago my heart stretched itself toward your glowing harvest orchard. I longed to swing in those swings whose ropes held fast to heaven, Granddad tossing me higher & higher in the apple-scented air. Grandmother set my feet on the ladders and branches to sieze the fiery fruit and taught me the prayers that breathed through those leafy vaults.
Now the orchard is gone. But you are still teaching me to fly: swinging me up and up, over the fear and loss of old age, on our Hope of Heaven, showing me where to stand to reach the last sweets of the harvest, with prayers as artless as the falling leaves for the evergreen vaults and courts of which these are but shadows.
Love,
Naomi"

Kim Anderson
Copyright October 1996
For your 65th Wedding Anniversary

Selling Our Birthright

Esau came home from hunting starved. Jacob was cooking lentil soup. Esau demanded some and Jacob countered with a proposed trade: your birthright for instant gratification. Esau agreed!

While many in the homeschool community have felt that our counterparts in public schools have made the same exchange with the government, perhaps it is time to admit that many in the ranks of the home-schooled have also done that deal. Virtual academies, public-school "enrichment" and "outreach" programs are multiplying across the educational landscape - because homeschoolers are buying into the idea that the government ought to have a role in raising our children. And because it is easy, immediate and someone else pays for it.

Inge Cannon, homeschool pioneer and author of countless resources for homeschoolers, writes to homeschool leaders:
What Ron and I are finding as we have worked with the twenty- and thirty-somethings over the past 15-20 years at conferences and over our Education PLUS telephone lines is often a completely different worldview perspective than was prevalent in the earlier days of our ministry to home schoolers. The changes for many in the next generation (if we figure a generation to be about 18-20 years) exhibit some or most of these characteristics:

[1] They tend to be focused on sound bites-often unwilling or unable to focus concentration on a full training session such as we offer them at our conventions and seminars. Witness the fact that they often come into the speaking sessions twenty minutes late and leave twenty minutes early—easily distracted and far more interested in coming to conventions to shop. Witness how difficult it is to get them to commit to regional seminars on the very topics about which they say they need help.

[2] They tend to function much like the rest of society in terms of an entitlement mentality. This characteristic is exhibited in several ways: they feel they have paid their taxes and therefore the government owes them something in return; they feel they are sacrificing much (and they are) by being single-income families, so leaders, businesses, suppliers, speakers, etc. should provide their needs on a gratis or marginal break-even basis (reflecting a bit of the “class envy” philosophy that liberal politicians consistently promote); they often misunderstand basic economics to the point of not taking responsibility to support what they say they believe in, so that it can be available. (And more often than I wish, resenting those who would make a profit or a living at providing the services and materials they need).

[3] They welcome government controls because they are very frightened that they might jeopardize their children’s future by not completely duplicating the curriculum design and perceived requirements of the public school (this is particularly true of the parents who are approaching the high school years with their teens). In their minds the presence of government involvement somehow sanctions what they are doing and provides them with a sense of legitimate credentialing—hence, they duplicate “school” without understanding that the definition of Christian home education is a tutorial lifestyle focused upon Biblical discipleship. This is made even more difficult when they come to home education as products of the public school themselves and have not had the opportunity to learn the Scriptures well.

[4] They welcome co-ops, entire video programs, etc.—anything that will do the teaching job for them because they are too busy to do it themselves. (Please note that I do not oppose these methods as tools, but reject the total family program being saturated by these tools in lieu of personal discipleship in teaching and interaction.)

At least once a week, I return a call to a home school mother at work in a full time job away from home. Her children are usually at home educating themselves (so I’m told when I ask).
[5] They often have no clue as to what it means to reject certain real conveniences, financial or equipment grants, reimbursement of curriculum and/or supplies at significant cost to themselves—whether financial, sacrifices of time and energy, or the pressures of swimming upstream in the face of disapproval from their peers, parents and in-laws, authorities, or the like. The logic of paying for something yourself to maintain your freedom rather than accepting the handout that comes with just a few strings can be difficult to swallow—let alone defend. Choosing what is right at cost to yourself is very hard."

"Ideas have consequences", as Francis Schaeffer would remind us. Opting to invite the government to participate in our home schooling not only damages the homeschooling movement in the long run, but exposes those homes to direct government intervention. World Magazine, in its Sept 3 article, "Here Come the Strings", details this progress in Alaska, where parents once trusted government to provide funds and parent-determined access to curricula and services, now find their entire home- life legally defined by the state as a public school, subject to all the restrictions of a secular government.

"Assistant attorney general Kathleen Starsbaugh confirmed EED's interpretive broadening of the law, labeling private homes as public schools: "While it uses terminology more easily applied to the traditional classroom, it applies to public schooling however delivered." She added that dispensing public money to parents who rely heavily on religious-themed curricula also violates the Alaska Constitution and the First Amendment's establishment clause."

What seemed like a free lunch turns out to be selling our birthright for a bowl of beans. For me, it's too much to pay.

High-Flying Homeschoolers Part 2

An Interview with Natalie and Petra
Real Grown-ups


When Petra and Natalie take a break from their extraordinary feats of academics and service, they can be found laughing over their pie-baking, entertaining the dishwashers with their violins or color-coordinating their outfits for the next concert or speech. The last time they got together, they and their friends treated our assembled guests to a hilarious double-concerto, in which two musicians each played the same instrument at the same time, one fingering, one bowing; one fingering, one blowing…

They agreed to share some of their secrets of becoming real grown-ups:

Mother-Lode: What are your family’s goals in homeschooling you through high school?

Natalie: To understand my faith so that I can stand firm in it. To reason well. To develop the skills needed to change my world. To pursue excellence in academics. These four things, though they seem easy enough, demand every waking hour. Around my house we work, think, read, and discuss all day long in order to accomplish them.

Petra: In our family, the key ideas are: scholarship, stewardship and service. We work with an eye toward being good stewards of the gifts God has given us. That means pursuing the highest education I am capable of absorbing. We also work to connect our studies to real life as we go along. For instance, I applied my study of the Constitution by becoming a Teen Court Attorney and working in real court sentencing hearings to restore troubled teens to the community.

Mother-Lode: What projects in your high school career have seized your imagination?

Natalie: I know it sounds far-fetched, but really, everything I do seizes my imagination. My parents instilled in me a love of learning. Whether I’m at an orchestra rehearsal, giving a speech, or studying Advanced Placement Biology, I am fascinated.

Petra: Like Natalie, I like to take every opportunity and give it my full attention; I work hard at enjoying all the studies and projects God has put before me. I don’t know what work God has prepared for me and I don’t have time to waste, in the future I will need everything God is preparing me with now.
But specifically, the most important project so far has been my involvement in speech and debate. It has prepared me for communication with my peers and elders on a daily basis. If you want to be successful it is necessary to communicate well. A rephrasing of a quote from the movie The Emperors Men puts it in perspective “If you can not say what you mean then you can not mean what you say and everyone should always mean what they say.”

Mother-Lode: What ambitions do you have beyond high school and what has most shaped those ambitions?

Petra: I intend on pursuing an advanced degree so that if/when there are things I need to do/say in the public arena I will be credible in the eyes of the secular world. While I do not need the affirmation of the secular world, I can not minister unto them unless they can hear me. In addition, a degree will give me the background to help my husband in his endeavors and to educate my children well, while allowing me the freedom to work at home, in businesses of my own design. In line with the principles of my family’s homeschool, my two main aspirations are to exercise dominion as I serve in motherhood and politics. (Emphasis on motherhood)

Natalie: My short-term aspirations are to continue honing my public speaking skills through both live presentations and radio broadcasts. The goals of these presentations being to excite a love of learning, challenge opinions, and defy apathy.
My long-term aspirations are to pursue higher education and have a short career before settling down to raise a family. I plan to continue a lifelong pursuit of reading, learning, playing the violin, being involved in politics, and impacting my community.

Mother-Lode: What difficulties have been important for you to overcome in your school career?

Petra: Like many families we are not rich. My parents have become experts at stretching the budget. My mother has devoted her talents and income to making sure we have the educational opportunities we need. But an environment of scarcity has taught us to be creative, industrious and resourceful.
When my aunt and uncle offered to take me with them for a three month tour of Europe, there was no money in the family budget for such a thing. So my sister and I marketed the pre-school music curriculum developed by my mother, to a local Montessori school. God prospered the four-week music camp we taught there, and I had money for Europe! Now, in our third year teaching there, we have financed all sorts of extras from traveling to speech tournaments to taking music lessons.

Natalie: My family lives out in the middle of nowhere. This limits the number of outside activities in which we can participate. This made my parents very nervous! They knew that homeschooling was the right thing to do, but didn’t want us to have gaping holes in our education. But this weakness was turned into strength.
When I was five Mom started as speech club for all of the local homeschoolers. We moved to Colorado for a year when I was in the eighth grade and found a thriving speech and debate community. When we moved back home finances limited us from participating in debate. So Petra Anderson and I started the International Debate Society Network for myself and other rural homeschoolers.
Mom found resources for my brother and I to study advanced math on our own and college-level science with one or two online classes.
Living in the country has forced us to work hard, be original, creative, and independent. What we thought was a weakness has shaped us into who we are.

Mother-Lode: Do you plan to pursue higher education? Why or why not?

Natalie: I do plan to pursue higher education as an extension, if you will, of the skills being developed in our homeschool. College is a time of learning unlike any other. My mom sharpened her talents with a double-major, a minor, and a master’s degree. Without those skills, my brother and I wouldn’t be who we are today.
Currently I am planning on pursuing a bachelor’s degree and going on to get professional training as a physical therapist. This would allow me to work part time if need be, work on the missions field, and help people in my family in a practical way.

Petra: Like I said earlier, in order to communicate in the secular world often it is necessary to have a degree. As Christians we are called to restore the old waste places this means interacting with the secular world. Also, as a mother I will be better equipped to train my own children if I have a higher education, Mrs. Webb (Natalie’s mom) is a very good example of this.


Mother-Lode: Do you feel a tension between the careerism that pursuing a college degree usually implies, and your desire to be a wife and mother?

Natalie: No, I do not. I plan to get a degree that would allow for a very flexible, part-time job that would allow me to be a full-time wife and mother. I have reviewed many, many degree options and professional school programs to find training that allows for that kind of flexibility.

Petra: At the moment, no. I do see it could be a temptation in the future. But I am not so concerned about it affecting me, because of the closeness and support I get from the older women in my family, who have not pursued a career for the sake of a career. Also I have surrounded myself with friends who will keep me accountable to the goals we commonly share.

Mother-Lode: What advice would you give to someone who is trying to decide whether to homeschool in high school?

Petra: In high school, the choices you make, the friends you choose, and your relationship with your parents are all ground-shaking. Whatever precedents you set up in high school will follow you to college and to the rest of your life. Over-all the homeschool environment is a better place to find wholesome friends. It is much easier to have a close relationship with parents, who can guide you in crucial choices.

Natalie: High school is the time that you form the way you view the world. It is a time to learn and develop so that during the rest of life you are firmly grounded. Don’t get me wrong, homeschooling through high school isn’t easy. It takes lots of work both from parent and child. However, the rewards are worth it. They present themselves, not necessarily in the form of trophies and medals, but in an active mind and a heart eager to serve God and change the world.

Do you know any Real Grown-ups, who have not yet reached age 20? Tell us their story!

High-Flying Homeschoolers

Real Grown-ups, Part 1

Alex & Brett Harris make a good point in their blog, the Rebelution, that it isn’t good enough just to best our culture’s current expectation of teenagers. They argue that the whole system of definitions and standards are hopelessly off-kilter. Every expectation drawn from allowances made for “adolescence” needs to be tossed off and replaced by another standard. Gentlemen, I couldn’t agree more!
Still it is difficult for people, who have been steeped in the notion that “adolescence” is a necessary stage of development, to imagine what young “non-adolescents” would look like. I have found a number of wonderful teenagers, who seem to define themselves completely outside the accepted norms. They are people upon whom I can depend to come through with creativity, energy, discretion, self-control and courage beyond even most adults I know.
They are the sort of people one needs if one is interested in serious cultural renewal. They are not yet the masters of their respective crafts, but unlike most adults, they are not people who “know only the limits of the possible” (Terry Pratchet, The Last Hero).
Over the next few days, I’d like to introduce you to a few, starting with a dynamic duo of devoted friends separated by hundreds of miles.
Natalie and Petra met through their participation in the homeschool speech and debate league, NCFCA, in Colorado. Accomplished musicians, both run music studios from their homes. Both have been nationally-ranked speakers. And both have a dedication to serving others, between them racking up a jaw-dropping 650 hours of community service, facilitating hands-on exhibits at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, teaching speech and debate, running speech tournaments for elementary school children, volunteering for local-to-national political campaigns, serving on municipal youth courts which administer restorative justice to other teens, touching literally thousands of people – and still counting. The two have a deep connection that cannot be shaken by distance or difficulty.
When Natalie’s father took a job in Oklahoma, the girls were distressed, as most friends would be, about the separation. But instead of wringing their hands, they embarked upon a project that would not only bring them closer together, but would also benefit other homeschoolers who live on the mission field or in remote rural areas. They launched the International Debate Society Network.
The IDS (pronounced “Ideas”) Network allows students to debate in real time over the internet. Petra and Natalie have lined up experienced and award-winning peer mentors, and well-respected coaches to provide teaching and training for students who have no debate experience. They will provide a series of fresh scrimmage match-ups for beginners and experienced debaters each week. Students can affiliate with the national homeschool forensics association (NCFCA), and compete in NCFCA tournaments, arriving with experience similar to that of students who can attend a debate club meeting every week. In fact, they will BE a club with all the camaraderie and personal connectedness that implies.
Incidentally, as of this writing, neither Petra nor Natalie are yet 16 years old.
There are a few spaces still available in this year’s IDS Network, which will begin its virtual meetings in October. Contact IDS Network for applications and information at ids.network@gmail.com .
Next time: An interview with Natalie & Petra

Aiming Arrows

“My kids are turning out OK!” say many parents I meet. Maybe. But is that what you’ve been sacrificing your time, treasure and talent for? Kids who are merely OK?

Not I. I’m aiming higher. I want children who have been trained and challenged to the limit of their abilities; children who have been polished to keen-edged beauty and usefulness. I want children who are prepared to recognize and to seize every opportunity that Providence offers; children whose vision and education enable them to make something extraordinary of the ordinary offices of life.

Today, I’d like to introduce you to a resource which will assist you to gain college entrance and scholarship funding for your homeschooled student. This is a service BY homeschoolers FOR homeschoolers. And it is so exciting that I am not even going to wait and see the final results in my own family, before I pass the recommendation on to you!

Already, by applying the principles in which this resource family will train you, my high school children (ages 15 and 18) are financing 20 credit hours at the local community college with private scholarship funds this semester alone! Their prospects for large scholarships at four-year colleges from state universities to Ivy Leagues are promising!

Meet the Webb family and their newest enterprise: Aiming Higher Consultants

Homeschoolers and Harvard

While many homeschoolers have never considered attending an Ivy League college, institute of technology, or other elite school, the benefits of doing so should be considered. A degree from a top college can put you on the fast track to influential positions in law, finance, business, engineering, science, academia, medicine, or government.

There are great personal benefits as well. A degree from an elite college can make you a more valuable employee and a more competitive candidate for professional and graduate schools. While still in college, you will have many opportunities for top internships, undergraduate research, networking, and other kinds of learning outside the classroom. Thanks to huge endowments, top colleges tend to be very generous with scholarships and/or need-based financial aid. For lower income families, an Ivy League college may be even more affordable than a local community college.

However, the process can be daunting. Last year, Harvard had a record number of applicants (22,796). They only selected 9.1% of the pool or 2,074 students. Homeschooler Austin Webb was one of those students. He was also accepted at MIT, Caltech, the University of Chicago, Rice, and Duke. He was offered approximately $200,000 in scholarships and grants at the various schools for his freshman year alone.
To help other homeschoolers take advantage of the incredible opportunities offered by elite colleges, Austin and his mother, Jeannette Webb, have founded Aiming Higher Consultants. This firm will provide professional assistance with the college application process, including application strategy, letters of recommendation, interview skills, essay editing, school documents (transcripts, course descriptions, etc.), résumés, and scholarships. To inquire about their services, email: Aiminghigherconsultants@gmail.com

Next time: High-Flying Homeschoolers

Flying Under the Hood

My mother got her pilot’s license before her high school diploma. She describes in glowing terms the wild freedom of soaring over the fields and curling into the embrace of the mountains that ring her childhood home in Wyoming. She reminisces about the wonder of seeing her whole dear world in one bright panorama, and the thrill of landing tight and neat on her father’s backyard airstrip, steering her father’s little Taylor-craft like an extension of herself by just leaning.

More recently, I watched my brother working toward his fixed-wing instrument rating. While it was thrilling, it was not – ever – exhilarating. To receive an instrument rating, the pilot has to spend weeks flying blind except for those instruments. The cockpit is literally shrouded from take-off to touchdown. Pilots call it ‘flying under the hood’.

They never eat before going under the hood, because the body’s entire vestibular system is horribly, nauseously confused the whole time. If you look at the instruments, they will tell you precisely where you are and whether you are banking or diving. But your mind can’t reconcile your visual record with your inner ear’s readings. There are no visual cues to tell you how the wind is catching you or whether you have overshot the runway. In fact, the only thing between you and instant death is your absolute certainty that the instruments don’t lie.

By mid-life, most of us have weathered our initial flying lessons. We’ve had our share of the power and sweep of visual flight. We’ve rescued the stranded, skirted the sudden thunderhead, landed on makeshift airstrips in strange places – at night. And we think we know flying.

So out of the blue, God slips on the hood. Nothing you can see makes any sense. Everything you feel is panic and nausea. In fact, the only thing between you and instant, eternal death is your certainty that the Scriptures don’t lie.

My husband has been taking our teenagers through the Westminster Confession of Faith. Last Sunday afternoon, we were discussing “The holy Scriptures are the only rule of faith and practice,” a theme I’ve been over dozens of times. This is the first time I’ve understood it’s a life-and-death issue. By mid-life, neither reason nor emotion are sufficient to assert, “God is good.” Certainly not in events like Hurricane Katrina or the bombings of 9-11, which many commemorated today.

Tres Shoemaker, a pilot with the Experimental Aircraft Association who helped our eldest daughter with her flying expedition for her Congressional Award, advised, “Don’t marry a pilot who doesn’t have his instrument rating.” “Why?” she asked. “Because,” Tres answered, “if you get into real trouble, only a guy who can block out the sensory and emotional distractions, using his instruments and the VOR beacons, can bring you through alive.”

Sooo, fasten your seatbelts and pass the airsick bag.

Have you been ‘under the hood?’ Click on “Comments” to tell us about it.

The Unnatural Disaster

I thought you all might be interested to read this insightful commentary on the Hurricane Katrina disaster by a non-Christian, libertarian journalist from the Intellectual Activist. http://tiadaily.com/php-bin/news/showArticle.php?id=1026

I'm taking a poll:
What do you think plays the greatest role in the destruction of New Orleans?
A. The hurricane's winds and water.
B. The Federal government's inefficiency.
C. The New Orleans/Louisiana failure to plan.
D. The entitlement mentality.

Just click on "Comments" to post your opinion.

Tree of Life

Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath provide critical opportunities to our nation; opportunities to assess not only the physical and economic devastation, but also to assess deeper devastations. We have an impetus to ask “what is the seed of the human violence added to the violence of nature?” and “Where can we look for the Tree of Life that will heal us?”

Just a few short years ago, in the wake of 9-11, the hard-boiled residents of New York City pulled together to support and encourage each other, and to laud the brave, loving souls who poured in from all over the country to help. The crime rate fell significantly. We heard story after story of courage, self-sacrifice, hope and gratitude.

Compare this to the reports we have coming out of New Orleans: looting, blaming, unspeakable crimes against fellow-refugees in the shelters provided, violence against the very people who have sacrificed to bring relief…What a contrast! The fact that there are still generous heroes who are willing not only to give time and treasure, but are also willing to brave the vicious ingratitude of those they have come to help, is evidence of a root of virtue in America that is still unshaken.

So what makes the difference? The sheer numbers of people affected? Race? Money? Government inefficiency? One of the 1,000 Katrina refugees which are being housed not 3 miles from my home wonders “why the ‘most powerful military on Earth’ couldn't subdue the armed thugs of New Orleans.”

Surely it is because, ultimately, no army on earth can subdue an idea.

The traditional American response to disaster is to look around for ways to help those less fortunate than myself – even if I, too, am a victim of that disaster. Mostly what we hear from those caught by Katrina in New Orleans is, “I deserve better than this!” “Why doesn’t somebody help me?” This kind of entitlement mentality, the idea that the world owes me a nice life, is as shocking to me as the scenes of natural devastation in the Mississippi delta.

The fruit of this idea is bitter indeed! It justifies shooting at the helicopters bringing food and water, because they “should have been here sooner”. It excuses those who actually stayed behind, hoping to profit from the rich looting after the storm. It explains away the monstrousness of violence against fellow-refugees. For if we are owed a nice life, then we have every right to be angry and impatient, even violent, when a nice life is not what is served up.

Yet is this idea operative only in New Orleans? How do I react when Providence serves up adversity? Do I succumb to the temptation to think of myself only as a victim? Do I vent my frustrations on others or excuse my own bad behavior?

Certainly, New Orleans shows us the extreme version of the entitlement mentality, but it serves as a sobering warning of things to come elsewhere, if we fail to examine our own reactions to difficulty. New Orleans will not heal on the hard rage of entitlement. Only the tears of repentance water the Tree of Life.

Speak Your Mind

We spend so much effort training our children to think, to analyse, to envision; and often we spend so little on training our children to express those provocative thoughts. What good will it do our world if our children can't form an argument or tell a story that will actually appeal to their audience - be it one friend or a whole auditorium?

In our homeschool, both writing and speech are required subjects. Training Minds Ministries publishes my textbook on debating about the values that undergird all our choices. My children have all greatly enjoyed and benefitted from participating in the homeschool speech and debate league, NCFCA. It has given them not only a set of lifetime skills, but also a network of dynamic peers across the country.

It has given them both confidence and practice in speaking their minds. Take for example, this new literary blog, CatchWord, written by my high school senior. Of course, some of us have more innate confidence than others....My son has never had trouble speaking his mind.

Lofty Ambitions

Have you ever noticed how when one takes the wheel of a car filled with one's children and their best friends, one becomes invisible - as unseen and dependable as indoor plumbing or central heating? If one maintains silence, one can keep up the illusion of vacant duct-ness for the entire round trip.
While some feel this is demeaning to parental dignity, I value my plumbing disguise very greatly. It is astonishing what the conversation of little people will reveal once they have forgotten that their chauffeur is a sentient being.
There was just such an occasion not long ago, when I was relieving the tedium of the interval between piano lessons by driving Winston and his good friend, Caleb, to the library. After the usual buckle-your-seatbelt pre-flight chitchat, the boys settled I for a "Dinosaurs Succumb to the Flood" adventure. Sadly, this palled rather quickly, since the dinosaurs could scarcely get in a good hunt before the Flood washed them all into the unsearchable crevasses of the back seat. The boys stared out the windows in stunned silence feeling the full weight of the loss.
I suppressed the urge to chirpily recommend some other entertainment, assuming by best lead pipe expression, sensing that this would be a likely moment for deep revelations. I was not disappointed.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked Winston.
"Oh, I don't know," mused Caleb, "Maybe a concert violinist or a rancher or something."
"Don't you want to be a DAD?" demanded Winston, in a voice which implied the insanity of disagreement.
"Well, sure. I guess…." stuttered Caleb, becoming aware for the first time, that perhaps there was a wrong answer for the when-I-grow-up question -- at least when answering to this crusader.
"I want to be a Dad," he declared, infusing that word with all the glorious passion of a true worshipper. "I want to teach my children, and train them to honor God and fight for Christ's kingdom!"
"Oh!" bleated his bewildered friend.
"And if I have any time left over after that, I want to be an astronaut and a paleontologist," finished Winston.
Well, I enjoyed it. But it occurred to me that, at least where sons are concerned, the dependable/invisible central heating disguise is probably not an option for fathers. Difficult as it may be for idols, who shine like Apollo into their son's consciousness, if you fathers want to be invisible, you'll have to get your own disguise.

Kim Anderson
June 2001

Life Outstrips Despair

Looking forward at middle age...lots of losses in view. Looking back, is it Life or death? Maybe both. Discipline is to enjoy what is given without demanding what is not. And while I'm looking, trying to see opportunities to give thanks to the God who gives and withholds.
So, here is one opportunity. A bedtime story about the Good Old Days.

Rites of Passage
(February 2001)


Last year, my eldest daughter, Elizabeth, turned thirteen with all the rite-of-passage pomp a drop-dead elegant tea party could dish out. Her friends and mine gathered in flowery hats and white gloves to sample the sumptuous menu she had prepared (on budget!), and to shower her with apprenticeship offers and advice for pressing on to womanhood.

This year, I steeled myself for something quite different, when Elizabeth begged for that traditionally teeny-bopper party: a sleep-over. The sleep-overs provided by the friends of my youth were sleezy affairs presided over by invisible parents, involving a lot of junk foods; pop-psychology reviews of fashion, grooming, and boys; incredibly silly impromptu play readings; bad music; and very little actual sleep. Now I have nothing against junk foods, fashion, play readings and staying up late, in their proper places. It was the illusion of unsupervised abandon that gave those events such an uncomfortable edge and shady reputation.

I agreed on the condition that Elizabeth, her father and I would entirely re-invent the whole institution. I also laid in a good supply of caffeine and Tylenol - just in case.

On the appointed day, the entire feminine contingent of Elizabeth's home-school speech and debate team, her Russian conversation partner, her historico-political provocateur (yes, this IS possible at age 14), some choir cohorts, and her faithful little sister settled in for the Green Gables sleep-over. As instructed, they brought Bibles, sleeping bags and plenty of red-headed spunk.

Little brother, Winston, served snacks while we all played Cranium, and tried to "recover" Anne Shirley's truncated war dispatches. Then we all sat down to crystal and china, and a country Edwardian dinner that would have made even Rachel Lind smile. This produced actual polite conversation, though I must admit, we did talk about boys. It happened quite innocently.

You see, Elizabeth's father had the girls in stitches with his fish stories. They needed little encouragement to brag about their own fathers. By the time the pound cake and raspberry fool arrived, they decided they could put together a sort of father-daughter Mission Impossible team with experts in law enforcement, computer wizardry, high finance, foreign language, construction engineering, persuasion, flying and so on.

Yes, we watched one of the Anne of Green Gables videos, complete with popcorn and hankies. There wasn't a dry eye. But when it came to composing the group photo- everyone swooning histrionically on the fainting sofa blotting eyes with said hankies- they actually got to the teary stage by the expedient of helpless laughter.

According to the girls, some of them didn't get to sleep until 3am. But I happen to know that they were all asleep by 12:30, when the dog had to tiptoe politely through the cocooned sleeping bags to ask ME to let him out. I confess, I was in two minds about whether to preserve their illusion of pushing the envelope, or to assure them that they really had behaved with perfect decorum in spite of themselves.

Morning dawned in a silvery benediction of rain. I passed out empty journals and gel pens, asking that the first entry be a description of the Bible woman each girl would most like to emulate and why, and warning them that there would be a quiz at breakfast. Amid the quiet bustle of morning toilets, sofa cushions tidied to their appointed places, and young ladies finding a solitary spot for their contemplations, one guest stood in the kitchen door waiting to be noticed.
"Excuse me," she began, "Most of us have a piano recital later this morning, would it be alright if we warmed up?"

So while Winston and I laid out lavender scones and lemon curd, bacon omlets, juice and tea, we were treated to Bach, Chopin, Clementi, heartbreaking jazz and ripping ragtime. Even the girls who didn't have a recital serenaded the cook. And I was left to my own contemplations.

While the children are little, we get used to the idea that we will not see the full flowering of our labor for many years yet. But here, so unexpectedly, I was not only seeing the flower, but tasting the first fruits. What I had thought would be a Tylenol occasion was in fact a display of the faithfulness of God. These young ladies, bright, accomplished, courteous, companions to strengthen faith and resolve, so far from being the rotten fruit modern parents have come to expect, are the hundred-fold harvest of parents who have patiently trained and molded and modeled faith and courage over the years. These are the young hands which will rule the future from the side of the cradle. These are the ones who will dictate the terms of peace to God's enemies in the next generation. These are the women who will build up the old waste places of culture and courtesy, and it is my greatest delight, my sweetest privilege to know and to equip them.

Who could have guessed that the teeny-boppers' sleepover would be the mother's rite of passage?