Weekend before last, we were planning to just visit the family camp that our church put on just past Darrington. The same day, we also attended the 50th wedding anniversary of our friends Alice and Ed Richards, which was amazing and sweet. We left that early in order to get to the camp--just to visit. However, within just a few minutes of being in the car, going home just to get some casual shoes, Tim had pleadingly convinced us that what we really should do is join the church in camping there.
Camp is not what we often do. I actually dread the thought of a night in a tent, and a few nights will guarantee me a sleep-deprived state that will garner lack of energy, plenty of pain, likely crankiness, and inability to think. Still, we rushed around the house to cram enough things into the car to at least approximate preparedness for a camping trip, rather as if we were looking forward to it. We did leave the tent at home because it was missing a tent pole; we'd buy a new one at Target along with a short list of other items. So next we stopped at Target on the way up; we quickly got our things, including a tent on clearance, which (other than it being a tent) is to my liking and speaks my financial language.
As we left Target it was sprinkling. It had been cloudy, but this is Washington and you have to just be willing to chance it once in a while if you camp anywhere any of the time at all. As we headed east, the sprinkling turned harder and it was hard to see eventually whether there really were individual rain drops or if it wasn't just water cascading in torrents down upon us, at a 45-degree angle. Still, I was amazed to see Gary determined to try to get there. We almost got to Darrington, pretty close to the camp, when we became convinced that it was not possible that anyone had stayed at the camp by then. We turned around and went home; still, our spirits were pretty good that we'd made the effort.
The next morning we arrived again for church at the camp, not too sure whether they would have it there, thinking it had to be a most sodden mess of moisture and muckiness. They indeed were there, and seemed quite settled in as if they had spent the night. They made room for us to join them in the worship time, and because we'd arrived a few minutes late, our noise and disturbance embarrassed me. However, there were a few who'd arrived just before us, so they assured us it was okay.
After the service I asked if many had stayed the night. Indeed most of them had; only a few had arrived that morning. It turned out that while we were being drenched it was fairly dry at the camp just a short distance away. We must have been dragging the forefront of the storm around just over us! They didn't feel the rain until hours later.
So we had a great visit, some good fellowship and Tim enjoyed the rope swing over a creek and we potlucked. Due to my lack of preparation pretty much all we had to share were a jar of peanuts, some peanut butter, and some homemade jam--no bread; I'd unpacked it the night before, somehow thinking we wouldn't need it. They were kind enough to make a fuss over my jam while their masterpieces were being devoured by all. It was a memorable day and might have been an even more memorable night of camping if we'd persisted in our efforts to get there.
Since then, I shopped at Walmart and found a nice little tent that Tim could use for just messing around, and he's had it put up outside for about a week. He's asked to camp outside by himself, but knowing that bears have recently been sighted nearby, and coyotes roam the nature preserve behind us, we're not too comfortable leaving him out there where we'd be oblivious to any danger he'd encounter.
So he's been begging us to camp outside with him. The only problem is, when night-time comes, we're tired and don't feel ready to park our carcasses out on the cold ground in a tiny tent that has no room for air mattresses. He hasn't managed to talk us into it yet...but tonight he found a way to accommodate his needs and some of Gary's: he brought the tent indoors. Now they're cozy and warm, if uncomfortable, in the tiny tent, in our front room. It may not be Hilton camping, but it's as close as we're likely to get to any of the options for adventure this summer.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
A New Link on my Blog for your Enjoyment
Okay, another blog. I got distracted and started updating my links. So in the process I went and explored who others were linking and since Katie links Get Fuzzy, it brought me back to the days when she was here and we would laugh together over that comic strip. I relate rather strongly to the dog in the strip, my good friend Satchel--I rather think I look like him, and that I also think somewhat like him too. I almost think we would fit in the same clothes--sigh. (One thing I have to take exception to, and that is that I gather he's a Democrat...and I most certainly am not, and without apology. There may be more travesties; I haven't been reading it for a while.)
I'm not sure who the corresponding cat would be, except maybe Tim on his more mischievous days or even rather malicious moments...still, I'm thankful he's Tim and not Bucky. He does bear resemblance to Bucky in more than one way, however, and I'll leave that for you to explore.
Who would the man be? I'm not sure. Gary doesn't usually interfere in these moments of conflict. I'm not sure either where Katie belongs in all this. Maybe I'd better explore some more comic strips, and we can morph them.
So now you know how to get to Get Fuzzy online. Enjoy! (And don't you see the resemblance? Katie doesn't express disagreement on this one. Sigh.)
I'm not sure who the corresponding cat would be, except maybe Tim on his more mischievous days or even rather malicious moments...still, I'm thankful he's Tim and not Bucky. He does bear resemblance to Bucky in more than one way, however, and I'll leave that for you to explore.
Who would the man be? I'm not sure. Gary doesn't usually interfere in these moments of conflict. I'm not sure either where Katie belongs in all this. Maybe I'd better explore some more comic strips, and we can morph them.
So now you know how to get to Get Fuzzy online. Enjoy! (And don't you see the resemblance? Katie doesn't express disagreement on this one. Sigh.)
The Simple Pleasure of Nature
One of Tim's favorite simple pleasures is to go for a walk to a nearby creek that runs through a park near our house. The place is so secluded that in the summer when the leaves are plentiful, you can't see any nearby houses or roads, and it could as readily be a scene 20 miles away from civilization as one within about 1000 feet of the nearest house. Except for the recent carelessness of litterbugs, and thoughtlessness of kids with spray paint cans who decided that some boulders and a tree were a great place for their messages. That has a tendency to telescope the place in a bit closer to humanity.
Still, it was a peaceful, tranquil place, and I sat at the edge on the root of a tree while Tim puttered about in the creek. He knows to look for crawdads; a couple of summers ago he found an adult crawdad and we put it in a mayonnaise jar and brought it home to observe for the day. We kept it overnight in the fridge so it wouldn't get too warm and die, and the next morning we walked back and put it back in the creek.
So yesterday he found another crawdad, this time a baby, probably less than an inch long. Very tiny, it took the patient observing eyes of an eager young boy to find it.
While he puttered and I sat, I listened to the world around us. Even in our house I don't find such a feeling of tranquility, even if everything is as silent as it can be. Even though there was much more noise at the creek than our home is if I'm quietly sitting in it, there's a peacefulness that the hum of even the quietest electric appliances can't match. The birds were singing, and the wind was whirling through the trees, easing loose the first yellowing leaves so they'd flutter down hesitantly to herald the fall season. It makes me wonder that I never ended up being the outdoorsy naturalist I think I imagined myself to become when I was growing up.
One thing that struck me while enjoying the quiet and calm surroundings was that the entertainment world that would attempt to present some of the natural world to kids, such as Disney movies, seems to completely miss the mark in shows like The Jungle Book, Finding Nemo, and Ice Age. Though I know that in nature there's a certain necessary amount of the "big fish eats little fish" scenario that causes all animals to be on some level of constant alert, there's so little of the high-tempo panic mode in the average natural environment that is everywhere in a Disney movie. To truly experience nature is to actually be there in it, not to see it on a screen anywhere or to use any man-made imitations.
I love the fact that Tim loves the outdoors. I love it too. My dad loved it, and used to take us camping every weekend that he could. I always assumed that we'd be campers, and yet it didn't happen that way. We tried, but the effort that went into camping just always seemed far too demanding; I wasn't one who could make it seem effortless. (Maybe it had something to do with camping in a tent?) All that effort, all that exploration and adventure ended up just getting choked out by the everyday chores and the inconvenience. I regret that. And our little Katie hated hiking, didn't care for being dirty, didn't muck about much in streams and in all the mysterious flora and fauna that you never find at home. I don't know if Katie's enthusiasm for the natural world would have grown if we had kept trying. I think, though, that as an adult she may have gained more of an appreciation for all that, more than she would have if it were forced upon her.
Tim seems to have received both of his grandfathers' inherent love of the outdoors, of tools, of mucking about. I hope that it will open doors for a love of science, and maybe of art and music, because I think all these loves may be connected. These subjects have something of the dreamer, the curious, the experimenter, the adventurer. Perhaps now that I am focusing more directly on him and his learning, we will need to pursue the trails and the backroads a bit more. I'll have to keep the mayonnaise jar handy.
Still, it was a peaceful, tranquil place, and I sat at the edge on the root of a tree while Tim puttered about in the creek. He knows to look for crawdads; a couple of summers ago he found an adult crawdad and we put it in a mayonnaise jar and brought it home to observe for the day. We kept it overnight in the fridge so it wouldn't get too warm and die, and the next morning we walked back and put it back in the creek.
So yesterday he found another crawdad, this time a baby, probably less than an inch long. Very tiny, it took the patient observing eyes of an eager young boy to find it.
While he puttered and I sat, I listened to the world around us. Even in our house I don't find such a feeling of tranquility, even if everything is as silent as it can be. Even though there was much more noise at the creek than our home is if I'm quietly sitting in it, there's a peacefulness that the hum of even the quietest electric appliances can't match. The birds were singing, and the wind was whirling through the trees, easing loose the first yellowing leaves so they'd flutter down hesitantly to herald the fall season. It makes me wonder that I never ended up being the outdoorsy naturalist I think I imagined myself to become when I was growing up.
One thing that struck me while enjoying the quiet and calm surroundings was that the entertainment world that would attempt to present some of the natural world to kids, such as Disney movies, seems to completely miss the mark in shows like The Jungle Book, Finding Nemo, and Ice Age. Though I know that in nature there's a certain necessary amount of the "big fish eats little fish" scenario that causes all animals to be on some level of constant alert, there's so little of the high-tempo panic mode in the average natural environment that is everywhere in a Disney movie. To truly experience nature is to actually be there in it, not to see it on a screen anywhere or to use any man-made imitations.
I love the fact that Tim loves the outdoors. I love it too. My dad loved it, and used to take us camping every weekend that he could. I always assumed that we'd be campers, and yet it didn't happen that way. We tried, but the effort that went into camping just always seemed far too demanding; I wasn't one who could make it seem effortless. (Maybe it had something to do with camping in a tent?) All that effort, all that exploration and adventure ended up just getting choked out by the everyday chores and the inconvenience. I regret that. And our little Katie hated hiking, didn't care for being dirty, didn't muck about much in streams and in all the mysterious flora and fauna that you never find at home. I don't know if Katie's enthusiasm for the natural world would have grown if we had kept trying. I think, though, that as an adult she may have gained more of an appreciation for all that, more than she would have if it were forced upon her.
Tim seems to have received both of his grandfathers' inherent love of the outdoors, of tools, of mucking about. I hope that it will open doors for a love of science, and maybe of art and music, because I think all these loves may be connected. These subjects have something of the dreamer, the curious, the experimenter, the adventurer. Perhaps now that I am focusing more directly on him and his learning, we will need to pursue the trails and the backroads a bit more. I'll have to keep the mayonnaise jar handy.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Change is Always Painful but Sometimes Necessary
We've changed churches enough in the past to see something of a pattern of losing contact with people from those congregations. It is the most painful aspect of changing churches, and the longer we're part of the church the more it hurts to leave. With the first church there was only a handful of people who we stayed in contact with. The next church had a number of people who were leaving about the time we did, and some of them we saw attending our next church as well, which eased the pain of that transition some. From the next church I think there were more hurt feelings. We were part of their missions commission and that was our closest group within it. I think they took it somewhat personally--leaving can make them feel like we've left rejecting them, rather than for other reasons. Each time, there's been something that I think most people would consider a solid reason.
I won't go into this recent one since it's more identifiable, but the first one we left because they didn't teach the Bible except in passing (that was my reason--I was newly saved and had heard on the radio that it was a good reason to change churches), and because Gary had a co-worker who was raving about this new church that was starting up (that was Gary's reason--Gary was not saved at this point--and it was God's provision that this co-worker caught his attention, because otherwise we might still be there!).
The second one we left because they stopped sharing the gospel at outreaches that seemed designed for sharing it, when the opportunity would have been perfect--and when questioned, an elder actually told us that it was because they didn't want to offend anyone. The associate pastor was there and defended his comment, too.
The third one we left because our daughter was in their youth ministry and the stuff they were teaching in there was unacceptable, and too much into promoting "self-esteem" and too little into Bible truth. The pastors also told us at the start of the year which of various behaviors that we would and wouldn't be told about if our teens were engaging in them. So we've attended a number of churches, but each time we've seen a new perspective and become a bit more alert and cautious about the next one.
This recent change is the first one where so many people have tracked the fact that we left. We were told today that one family noticed that we were gone--the first Sunday that we weren't there! This amazes me, perhaps because I'm never that observant myself, or else because I wonder how they'd notice so fast anyway, with so many other people around. They were even able to tell us specifically, this almost two months later.
At any rate, the more time that we invest with a church, the more intense the pain is in leaving. Each time that we see or hear from another family from there, it's like going through it all over again. And I think this congregation seems to care more that we're gone, combined with generally not taking it personally that we have left.
It makes life awkward, though. We have friends who are starting up homeschooling this year, and I had promised to help them and provide all that I could--but they are pretty new Christians, and it's just tough to think of approaching them even with this mundane purpose in mind, without having them wonder about the circumstances of our leaving. Then there are three families who we know pretty well, who we are convinced know we left, but who ignore the fact with us. What do we do about that? I guess we just leave it be and wonder at their silence. With each family it is different. It's frustrating, because it puts a weight where there ought to be none. These are still brothers and sisters in Christ; that will never change. But there's a separation, an awkwardness, a hurdle that should not be there and it's not really our doing. I think these are the worst parts about such a change.
On the other hand there are blessings that only come through this thing. We meet more brothers and sisters that we would never have met. We join a church with new strengths. We are reminded of forms of fellowship that weren't implemented in our old church. We hear the testimony of church missionaries and we see the congregation treated as a family even during the church service, interrupting announcements or whatever other part of the service if warranted to acknowledge one or another member--which I imagine is so much easier to do in a small church. The pastor is able to track what we're doing more, and so we feel not only more under his watchful eye but in his care.
So there is good and bad in such a thing. We left the last church with the claim ringing in our ears that there is no church for miles that teaches the Bible like they should--and we thought we were going to have to compromise to attend a church until we could move far away and find a better one. But God is faithful, and we only had to visit a few before one felt right. Even in the meantime, those we visited were very healing, comforting and refreshing; it was not a negative time in the least.
I realize God's ideal would be that we could all attend one church and get along, agreeing on all the vital things, seeking always to stay faithful to His truth, and loving one another as we should. Still, I am thankful to see that God has this variety of churches in America and not all of them are necessarily going off into apostasy. There are many which accommodate different needs among His people. We are individuals whom God has designed with a unique plan for each, in different stages of spiritual growth. I think God had us as a family go to each of the churches we attended for a reason that had to do with where we were spiritually at the time, and partially to increase our awareness and discernment. This path wouldn't have worked for everyone, but it has worked for us, painful though it was at times.
Looking back, I wouldn't have had it any other way. We wouldn't have wanted to stay at the first one; it wouldn't have taught us anything. I don't think we could have started at the last one; it would have been beyond our patience. Every church has its flaws, and those flaws can work to do various things in a person, to embitter them or to make them better. Every church has its strengths, too (at least those that teach the Bible to their best ability, and especially those that share the gospel with unbelievers and disciple believers). I hope to think every church we saw in the midst of this latest change is faithfully doing its best to involve the Holy Spirit in serving its congregation.
Be sure to keep your church and its leaders in prayer. They have their strengths and weaknesses, and Satan knows just what those are. Keep your eyes open. Handle problems scripturally, no matter how difficult it is; address problems to the leaders who can implement change, rather than leaving in a cloak of mystery, and maybe you will be influential. Don't stay under bad teaching if you have the option to find a better place; remember the following:
Psalm 1
How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
This is a sobering psalm; I think I always thought of it as lovely and reassuring to the believer, but there's the flip side. It's a warning to be discerning, and to stay faithful to God rather than man. It never felt good to leave any congregation, but God has nevertheless called us to do so a few times, and has always clearly honored obedience in such things.
He never calls us to leave and refuse to join a church again, as we've seen some do:
Hebrews 10:23-25: "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near."
I won't go into this recent one since it's more identifiable, but the first one we left because they didn't teach the Bible except in passing (that was my reason--I was newly saved and had heard on the radio that it was a good reason to change churches), and because Gary had a co-worker who was raving about this new church that was starting up (that was Gary's reason--Gary was not saved at this point--and it was God's provision that this co-worker caught his attention, because otherwise we might still be there!).
The second one we left because they stopped sharing the gospel at outreaches that seemed designed for sharing it, when the opportunity would have been perfect--and when questioned, an elder actually told us that it was because they didn't want to offend anyone. The associate pastor was there and defended his comment, too.
The third one we left because our daughter was in their youth ministry and the stuff they were teaching in there was unacceptable, and too much into promoting "self-esteem" and too little into Bible truth. The pastors also told us at the start of the year which of various behaviors that we would and wouldn't be told about if our teens were engaging in them. So we've attended a number of churches, but each time we've seen a new perspective and become a bit more alert and cautious about the next one.
This recent change is the first one where so many people have tracked the fact that we left. We were told today that one family noticed that we were gone--the first Sunday that we weren't there! This amazes me, perhaps because I'm never that observant myself, or else because I wonder how they'd notice so fast anyway, with so many other people around. They were even able to tell us specifically, this almost two months later.
At any rate, the more time that we invest with a church, the more intense the pain is in leaving. Each time that we see or hear from another family from there, it's like going through it all over again. And I think this congregation seems to care more that we're gone, combined with generally not taking it personally that we have left.
It makes life awkward, though. We have friends who are starting up homeschooling this year, and I had promised to help them and provide all that I could--but they are pretty new Christians, and it's just tough to think of approaching them even with this mundane purpose in mind, without having them wonder about the circumstances of our leaving. Then there are three families who we know pretty well, who we are convinced know we left, but who ignore the fact with us. What do we do about that? I guess we just leave it be and wonder at their silence. With each family it is different. It's frustrating, because it puts a weight where there ought to be none. These are still brothers and sisters in Christ; that will never change. But there's a separation, an awkwardness, a hurdle that should not be there and it's not really our doing. I think these are the worst parts about such a change.
On the other hand there are blessings that only come through this thing. We meet more brothers and sisters that we would never have met. We join a church with new strengths. We are reminded of forms of fellowship that weren't implemented in our old church. We hear the testimony of church missionaries and we see the congregation treated as a family even during the church service, interrupting announcements or whatever other part of the service if warranted to acknowledge one or another member--which I imagine is so much easier to do in a small church. The pastor is able to track what we're doing more, and so we feel not only more under his watchful eye but in his care.
So there is good and bad in such a thing. We left the last church with the claim ringing in our ears that there is no church for miles that teaches the Bible like they should--and we thought we were going to have to compromise to attend a church until we could move far away and find a better one. But God is faithful, and we only had to visit a few before one felt right. Even in the meantime, those we visited were very healing, comforting and refreshing; it was not a negative time in the least.
I realize God's ideal would be that we could all attend one church and get along, agreeing on all the vital things, seeking always to stay faithful to His truth, and loving one another as we should. Still, I am thankful to see that God has this variety of churches in America and not all of them are necessarily going off into apostasy. There are many which accommodate different needs among His people. We are individuals whom God has designed with a unique plan for each, in different stages of spiritual growth. I think God had us as a family go to each of the churches we attended for a reason that had to do with where we were spiritually at the time, and partially to increase our awareness and discernment. This path wouldn't have worked for everyone, but it has worked for us, painful though it was at times.
Looking back, I wouldn't have had it any other way. We wouldn't have wanted to stay at the first one; it wouldn't have taught us anything. I don't think we could have started at the last one; it would have been beyond our patience. Every church has its flaws, and those flaws can work to do various things in a person, to embitter them or to make them better. Every church has its strengths, too (at least those that teach the Bible to their best ability, and especially those that share the gospel with unbelievers and disciple believers). I hope to think every church we saw in the midst of this latest change is faithfully doing its best to involve the Holy Spirit in serving its congregation.
Be sure to keep your church and its leaders in prayer. They have their strengths and weaknesses, and Satan knows just what those are. Keep your eyes open. Handle problems scripturally, no matter how difficult it is; address problems to the leaders who can implement change, rather than leaving in a cloak of mystery, and maybe you will be influential. Don't stay under bad teaching if you have the option to find a better place; remember the following:
Psalm 1
How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
This is a sobering psalm; I think I always thought of it as lovely and reassuring to the believer, but there's the flip side. It's a warning to be discerning, and to stay faithful to God rather than man. It never felt good to leave any congregation, but God has nevertheless called us to do so a few times, and has always clearly honored obedience in such things.
He never calls us to leave and refuse to join a church again, as we've seen some do:
Hebrews 10:23-25: "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near."
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Changes--Passing our daughter along to the Master's care
For the last few weeks (and longer, at a less-frenzied pace), we have been preparing in our family for the upcoming sending-Katie-off-to-college. I think that I have been so busy with that and preoccupied with other things that I haven't really had the opportunity (perhaps I haven't allowed it too strongly) to really ponder the long-term ramifications of doing so. I have been able to consider it happily enough. I don't think I've been as teary-eyed about it as I would have expected, or as other mothers I know are. But I'm not sure whether it's because I'm in denial or because I have been working toward this goal in an inward way for such a long time. I know these mothers trust the same God and Savior that I do, so that's not the difference.
I see Katie receiving all sorts of wonderfully worded sentiments from friends, some even younger than she is (such as her friend Haley). Not being an extremely sentimental sort (well, at least, I'm inconsistently sentimental), I am envious that they were able to express themselves so beautifully and profoundly to her, while I don't do so much of that sort. Why so inadequate in these ways, I don't know. What kind of mother am I, I wonder.
I know I will miss her. Our family will hardly be the same. Katie and I discuss things between us in such a way that we don't with anyone else. That will be the worst part for me. She also accommodates my forgetfulness and stupidity about daily details so that things don't get overlooked, and I know my stupidity will show much more once she's gone. Sigh. She also influences our family for good, in how we eat and exercise (always wanting more success in that arena!).
Yet I am delighting in sending her along, because from the time she was little I have been pouring the ability to learn into her being, and she has learned to love learning. That is better than the pouring in of facts, and I haven't yet succeeded with Tim in this endeavor. Katie was a willing and curious learner all along, and easily directed. It will be exciting to see that more fully developed and utilized in the college environment.
I'm going to miss the comraderie we have between us. We have spent much time together, and know so many little things about each other that others don't; often we come up with the same thought at the same time, the same silly answer to a remark, the same concern over one absent at the same time. It's not just a little scary to think that with homeschooling, perhaps I have influenced her in such a way that she has become a younger version of me. May God be gracious to her in this regard, and may she develop more of her own way, more of her own interests and friends. I am eager considering this to see where He takes her and how much more of her beauty and interest will shine through in a way that had not yet been developed--sort of like a rough stone gone through a tumbler.
I'm also aware that we will still be able to communicate--daily if needed--by way of e-mail, telephone, internet webcam--and that in an emergency I could fly down or she could fly home. Not being one to worry much, and knowing that she goes to a protected environment, I don't lose sleep over it. God is great, and because of His great love for her and capacity to protect her better than I can, there's no hesitation. I know that she faces no greater danger at college than at home.
Still, when we drop her off, I'm bringing kleenex. We have six new boxes of it ready at home.
I see Katie receiving all sorts of wonderfully worded sentiments from friends, some even younger than she is (such as her friend Haley). Not being an extremely sentimental sort (well, at least, I'm inconsistently sentimental), I am envious that they were able to express themselves so beautifully and profoundly to her, while I don't do so much of that sort. Why so inadequate in these ways, I don't know. What kind of mother am I, I wonder.
I know I will miss her. Our family will hardly be the same. Katie and I discuss things between us in such a way that we don't with anyone else. That will be the worst part for me. She also accommodates my forgetfulness and stupidity about daily details so that things don't get overlooked, and I know my stupidity will show much more once she's gone. Sigh. She also influences our family for good, in how we eat and exercise (always wanting more success in that arena!).
Yet I am delighting in sending her along, because from the time she was little I have been pouring the ability to learn into her being, and she has learned to love learning. That is better than the pouring in of facts, and I haven't yet succeeded with Tim in this endeavor. Katie was a willing and curious learner all along, and easily directed. It will be exciting to see that more fully developed and utilized in the college environment.
I'm going to miss the comraderie we have between us. We have spent much time together, and know so many little things about each other that others don't; often we come up with the same thought at the same time, the same silly answer to a remark, the same concern over one absent at the same time. It's not just a little scary to think that with homeschooling, perhaps I have influenced her in such a way that she has become a younger version of me. May God be gracious to her in this regard, and may she develop more of her own way, more of her own interests and friends. I am eager considering this to see where He takes her and how much more of her beauty and interest will shine through in a way that had not yet been developed--sort of like a rough stone gone through a tumbler.
I'm also aware that we will still be able to communicate--daily if needed--by way of e-mail, telephone, internet webcam--and that in an emergency I could fly down or she could fly home. Not being one to worry much, and knowing that she goes to a protected environment, I don't lose sleep over it. God is great, and because of His great love for her and capacity to protect her better than I can, there's no hesitation. I know that she faces no greater danger at college than at home.
Still, when we drop her off, I'm bringing kleenex. We have six new boxes of it ready at home.
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