You Can't Fight City Hall?

I sat there staring at the meeting notice. Once more City Hall wanted to meet to discuss the curfew ordinance. Once more, if I really gave a flying fig, I was going to have to postpone date night to go keep an eye on the men who rule our city. Once more, I was going to have to do my homework so as to come prepared.

I admit that I was torn inside.

This patriotic citizen thing?

This takes time.

I had left the December meeting with my jaw on the floor at the stunningly bad thinking I had seen by the chief of police, the city attorney, and some of the councilmen.

I had left determined to respond cogently to that flawed thinking the next time this came up.

And then life happened, as it is wont to do.

Holidays, children back to college, church responsibilities, business concerns...

blah, blah, blah.

Oh, I was still hopping mad at what I had seen and heard.

Yet time is the best antidote for passion, and the apathy was starting to creep in.

Besides, this was City Hall.

And you can't fight it!

Nevertheless...something niggled in the back of my brain.

Doing the right thing is not determined by feelings; it is determined by principles...

The thing I had been most aggravated about back in December was that a councilman (and one on our side, too) had told my tireless-patriot friend, Nita, that we couldn't be 'angry.' Now I realize you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. But, doggone-it, I am angry. This is tyranny.

Oh, and there should be no tossing around terms like tyranny.

And it probably won't help to bring up the Constitution.

Or say anything negative about the police.

In fact, Pippin, it would be best if you just said nothing at all.

But I went. And I spoke. And I was nice. You can even ask Nita.

At the last meeting, the chief of police and the city attorney had praised the curfew ordinance as "pre-emptive criminal intervention."

So I mentioned that that was troubling, in light of the--dare I say it--C..C..Constitution.

At the last meeting, several councilmen had mentioned that they didn't want to deprive the police of tools to fight crime.

So I mentioned that they already have tools: laws against truancy and vandalism. And we have a tool for the law-abiding citizens. Oh gosh, I said it again: the Constitution. (I really wasn't trying to be belligerent; I just couldn't think of a synonym for Constitution.)

At the last meeting, the city attorney had said that, under the curfew ordinance, "if the person could provide information" as to why he was not truant, the officer would have to let him go.

So I mentioned my timid 13-year old who would go blank at the mere approach of an officer and probably not remember her name, let alone her address.

I had more to say...

I wanted to respond to the police chief's bizarre comfort in the curfew ordinance granting him power to approach "those with mental health issues."

I wanted to tell remind the Council that disdain and suspicion for the mentally ill is reserved for other political traditions than ours.

But...

A speaker may only talk for three minutes.

So the mayor politely asked me to wrap it up, which is really annoying--especially when the councilmen themselves, in Brett's words, "are allowed to bloviate endlessly" in response to the speakers.

Good things happened that night, just the same.

The man who spoke before I did wasn't a homeschooler.

I don't even know if he is a parent.

In fact, I have no idea where he came from.

He opened with something like, "I support the police in their effort to fight crime." (Oh no.)

"But I support the right of these parents a little more." (Oh yes!)

He reminded the Council of the mess that is the TSA. And he challenged them, "If the government isn't going to fight tyranny at the federal level, then we better start here." (Yes! Yes! Yes!)

So... those dreaded words did come up in the meeting, after all.

And I was glad.

Suddenly, this debate about the curfew ordinance catapulted into the arena of the intelligent!

I sat agog as two council members admitted to being political science majors back in college and voiced some concern about drifting from the C...C...Constitution.

I was amazed when a councilman--NOT me--brought up 'civil liberties.'

I stared wide-eyed as another one said, "I'm really for fewer laws, not more laws."

And I nearly jumped for joy when one council member, after revealing that he had lived in Soviet Russia for a time, said, "Our Constitution is only as good as the collective support behind it."

!!!

Could this really be happening in MY city council? Could I really be witnessing MY city council starting to squirm under the realization that they might have passed an ordinance that was patently un-American? Could it be that MY city council was getting the picture that we weren't there so much as homeschoolers--but as Americans?

Miraculously, we witnessed a pragmatic debate over a seemingly insignificant curfew ordinance turn into a discussion regarding the ideals of our nation, our liberty, and our Constitution. We had stopped talking like politicians and homeschoolers, us and them, and we started talking like Americans.

The vote is still two weeks away.

But we might just win this one, not because curfews are inconvenient laws

but because they are bad laws--and because the Constitution is good law.

Maybe you can fight City Hall.

Readin', Writin', and 'Rithmetic...Another Year Ahead

(with addendum in the comments section...)

Well, it's that time of year again. Summer wanes and autumn soon descends. Must be time to dust off the books and get ready for another glorious school year. I'm excited this year as I look at my plan for the kids.

Two are off to college. Z leaves Sunday, starting his junior year at LeTourneau University pursuing his B.S. in Air Traffic Control Management. A is delaying her sophomore year one semester to earn some money, but she'll be pursuing a B.A. in Biblical Studies at Criswell College.

Meanwhile, we'll have another graduation to plan for Prez, who's now a senior in high school, and E is doing her sophomore work. G is in seventh; J is in 5th; C is in 3rd; E is in 1st. And two more little people playing and getting underfoot and giggling and fighting...Life is good.

Some things stay the same...

Explode the Code

First Language Lessons

Rod and Staff grammar

Easy Grammar Ultimates

Singapore Math

Teaching Textbooks

Science: The Search

Apologia

KONOS

Guerber

Latin for Kids

Greek for Kids

Logic by Wilson and Nance

And some things change...

G was our first student to use Singapore, and when she finished, we were at a crossroads as to what to do next. So, we'll be using that old homeschool math favorite, Saxon. This is a change from Teaching Textbooks, but I think it may be a better match for a Singapore student.

And those who are paying attention will also note the absence of Tapestry of Grace. I love TOG. And while I'm militantly opposed to classical education in younger grades, it has been an excellent high school curriculum. Lots of dear friends disagree with me, and that's okay. But I'm all for discovery and fun and projects in the elementary years. Rigor is good; rigor is great...in its place and in its time.

So, speaking of rigor, I'm jumping ship from TOG this year to do a different kind of rigor. David Quine, founder of Cornerstone Curriculum, wrote World Views of the Western World a number of years ago to equip high-school students to see world view in everything from art to economics and trace the path of divergence from a Biblical worldview since ancient times. We use his Starting Points when each child hits eighth grade, and now we'll be doing WVWW for high-school. I am VERY excited about this change. I want to equip my students to go out into that big, bad world, taking dominion, and taking every thought captive.

Prez will be doing Year Two: The Grandeur of Christianity and The Age of Revolutions,

and E will be doing Year One: The Bible and Ancient Thought.

If I count from the year Z was in first grade, this is my fifteenth year of homeschooling. If I count from his birth, this is my 21st. Wow. God has carried us through many learning adventures. So, even though summer went faster than I wanted it to, I look forward to another school year.

And with a lot of prayer coverage, may this be a year that makes Him smile.

The Wonder and Worship of Teaching

When I was in 9th grade, I attended a tiny school run by my church.

So tiny, in fact, that I was the only 9th grader.

And I was bogged down in Algebra I.

Seriously bogged down.

The school availed itself of church members who had talent to share with the kids, and they started appealing to math lovers to come rescue Noel from her pit of despair. Not even the math-major-turned-math-teacher could sufficiently explain to me the magic I was missing.

Summer came...and still I trudged on with x's and y's.

And still it continued to mystify me.

So when I took my annual month of vacation with my grandparents, I arrived with math books in hand...and gazed longingly at the golf course out back. sigh.

That's when the miracle occurred...in the form of my Granddad. He sat down with me and my x's and y's and patiently explained the mysteries of algebra.

And suddenly--bing!--the light went on. Today, I love algebra.

Turns out, I didn't need that math major after all.

I needed Granddad.

But that didn't rescue me from geometry.

My family moved the year I started geometry. And I found myself in a regular private school similarly mystified by math, but this time involving theorems and postulates and givens and aaaahhhhhh!!!

This time, Granddad was 18 hours away.

And my geometry teacher was a bad communicator--no matter what letters he had after his name.

Here we go again...

I never did conquer geometry, though I at least managed to pass.

Fast forward 22 years.

I'd already had six years of homeschooling under my belt, but I was scared. This next year, like it or not, geometry was coming to my home.

So I did what any self-respecting homeschool mom would do (I thought). I learned geometry. I stayed a couple steps ahead of my son and...

voila!!!

I got it. Not only that. I loved it! Why hadn't someone told me how amazing geometry was? Why hadn't anyone ever explained to me how logical it was? how it always worked?

And I worshipped. I kid you not. I worshipped. I was in awe of my God who was the Mind Behind Math. I would stand at the white board and sing God's praises to my kids. Who can comprehend this inscrutable God? the only wise God? the King Eternal? Does this not amaze you, kids?

Well, I didn't exactly pass on the wonder. They still complained and still do complain about the proofs...and the Base Angle Theorem...and Oscar's Heap of Apples.

But one day they will find the wonder, too...

if they are homeschooling their own children.

That's what it looks like in a home where God gently leads those that are with young.

That's what it looks like when we sit at the feet of the Shepherd and trust him with our frailties and our fears and our ignorance. He equips us.

Homeschooling is the only approach to education that claims it disciples its students.

University model schools don't.

Parochial schools don't.

Government schools sure as heck don't.

The others don't make that claim because they can't make good on that claim.

And they know it, too.

Why can't they disciple our children?

Why? Because there is a theology behind every academic pursuit.

If we are to rightly pursue our academics, we must rightly pursue our Creator/Redeemer.

It makes a difference to a mom with math phobias when she knows that because there is a Mind behind math, math will always work.

Does your math teacher teach that?

It makes a difference when we explore science and we rightly repudiate evolution

and believe in a literal six-day Creation Week

and point to the order, much of it knowable, in every branch of science.

Does your science teacher teach that?

It makes a difference that we know the Lawgiver when we teach government.

It makes a difference that we know the Invisible Hand when we teach economics.

It makes a difference that we know Jesus, the Word made flesh, when we teach our children language arts and communications.

To teach a child any branch of knowledge is to teach theology.

Come.

Teach.

Worship.

Homeschool Heroes

Heroes.

We need heroes.

Our frail hearts need to know there is someone who has walked this path first.

We need the standard bearers who go before us and blaze the trail so that we have something to keep our eyes on when the road gets tough.

And the road always gets tough.

That's life.

Yes, it helps to have heroes.

I met Jessica Hulcy as a relatively green homeschooler.

For the first couple of years I would timidly approach her Konos booth and try to get a good look at the curriculum without letting Jessica get a good look at me. Frankly, the woman scared me. She was fanatical about discovery learning and insistent that everyone should do it.

But she didn't know me. She didn't know that I don't like messy things. I don't like projects. I don't like art. I don't like clutter. I really, really, really just wanted to hand my children nice clean workbooks and let them do nice clean schoolwork and put the workbooks away on my nice clean bookshelf when we were done.

No muss; no fuss.

And no learning, Jessica would say.

Crazy lady. Really.

But when child number three burst on the scene with his kinesthetic personality, I could see it would either be Konos...

or it would be war.

This child was not going to do workbooks well.

No, he was going to feel his schoolwork--literally.

Botheration.

So I met Jessica. I told her about myself.

And she told me, quite abruptly in fact, that I needed to change.

sigh.

I bought Konos and did it for six wondrous years.

We sewed medieval banners...

(to the living room floor).

We made Queen cakes...

(with chunks of lemon rind floating in them).

We acted out Montezuma and Cortez

and the solar system

and made a map of the United States the size of our driveway

and went in search of metamorphic rock and algae.

We had an explorers' dinner and a pilgrims' feast

and a mountain man campfire complete with tall tales of our own making.

We studied Africa region by region.

We memorized military ranks and held bootcamp for a week.

And they learned, learned, learned.

Workbooks? What the heck was I thinking???!!!

Thank you, Jessica, for showing me that discovery learning is the best learning of all

and that the best thing Mom can do...is just get out of the way. It's a lesson I have never forgotten.

A few years later, I met Dean and Karen Andreola.

Boisterous Dean. Proper Karen. Delightful people.

The Andreolas are responsible for reviving the work of English educator Charlotte Mason. And the crux of Charlotte Mason was that we need to get our learning from living books.

Again, put the workbooks away.

Bring out the real books. Do nature studies.

Discuss, discuss, discuss.

So we read good books. I am militant about twaddle-free bookshelves.

No Disney (well, okay, an occasional Disney until I can sneak it to the garbage); no Berenstain Bears; no babysitters clubs or goosebumps or Judy Blume.

And we narrate real books.

And we do copywork from real books.

And we draw backyard flora and fauna.

And we discuss, discuss, discuss.

My Charlotte Mason Companion is tattered and beloved.

Thank you, Dean and Karen, for bringing back the art of conversation. In so doing, you have increased the ability to keep discipleship in homeschooling.

When I picked up Harvey and Laurie Bluedorn from the airport for our summer conference, I was intimidated. These were classical people. Classical people are snobs.

I couldn't have been more mistaken. The Bluedorns are warm, wonderful people who are serious about home education and family but with a twinkle in their eyes. I wanted to adopt them!

Their Teaching the Trivium restored sanity to the classical craze. They kept the warmth of Charlotte Mason and her living books and added a dash of rigor and memorization. They taught me that I needed to focus on Biblical classics rather than pagan classics, especially at the younger stages. They taught me that, yes, it is possible to introduce the ancient languages to the children. And they taught me that, not only was it possible to teach logic, it was imperative for Christians.

Thank you, Harvey and Laurie, for showing the homeschooling world that a classical education does not have to be a pagan education. Most of all, thank you for showing me that moms and dads can tackle and teach the tough stuff.

David and Shirley Quine have come to Austin the past three summers. These are scary-smart people, and their focus is building a Biblical worldview in our children. But they are personable and humble and have all the time in the world for you.

I know; I spent two hours in their booth this summer.

I was intimidated. I felt inadequate to teach the material.

And they talked me down off my ledge.

David and Shirley's passion is to equip parents because parents are the best teachers. They don't shy away from heady stuff, and they don't pass it off to the 'experts' either. As far as discipleship of children go, parents ARE the experts.

Thank you, David and Shirley, for teaching me that I can wade into the worldview waters and that I can equip, that I can encourage, that I can walk alongside my children...because God gave my children to me. Thank you for showing me the difference between instruction and indoctrination. And thank you for being our cheerleaders!

Heroes.

Amazing people who blaze trails

Who confront the status quo

Who refuse to conform

Who accomplish genuinely good things for the genuine good of others.

Thank you, most of all, to the most amazing hero of all: my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ...

because there are still tough days in homeschooling when I am sure I have wasted my time or that the kids will never get it or that they will never get along. There are days when I daydream out the window and wonder what the non-homeschoolers are doing. There are days when I look down the road and realize the road is still very long.

It is on those days that I lean most heavily on my greatest hero.

Thank you, Jesus, for redeeming me from my depravity.

Thank you, Jesus, for being strong when I am weak.

Thank you, Jesus, for being the Author and Finisher of my faith.

Thank you, Jesus, for promising to bring what You started to completion.

Thank you, Jesus, for daily bearing my burdens.

Thank you, Jesus, for gently leading me with my young.

Look Ma! No Disciples (Part Four)

It all started innocently enough. I went out to the website to enroll my junior for one class that I thought would be an exceptional experience. And as I trolled around the site, the ground beneath my feet began to give way. I was standing on the edge of a slippery slope. A very slippery slope.

"Hey," I thought to myself. "I didn't know they offered this class! Or that class! Hey, I wouldn't have to teach that subject that doesn't move me or this subject which just plain old intimidates me..."

Suddenly, I was George Bailey, sitting in Potter's humiliating chair, smoking Potter's cigar, ready to make a deal with the devil. I was shaking Potter's hand. "Gee, thanks, Mr. Potter, I can't wai....

HEY! WHAT AM I DOING?"

Back to my senses...

"No, doggone it! You sit around here and you spin your little webs and you think the whole world revolves around you...In the whole vast configuration of things, I'd say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider!"

Perhaps it would be helpful to point out the fundamental differences between government schools and once a week academies.

Parents have no control over the curriculum.

Govt school: check

Once a week academies: check

Parents have no control over the staff.

Govt schools: check

Once a week academies: check

Parents have no control over the other students.

Govt schools: check

Once a week academies: check

Students are primarily socialized by peers.

Govt school: check

Once a week academies: check

Students learn nothing at home; merely carry out homework there.

Govt schools: check

Once a week academies: check

Oh.

There aren't (m)any differences.

Are you really going to make me say it?

Okay, I'll say it.

Once a week academies are just government schools for homeschoolers.

Sad state of affairs we find ourselves in, no?

But that one exceptional class I put my children in?

Here's how it went:

I sat in the back of the class to remain unobtrusive.

And I got an eyeful.

A student was wearing jeans so low, I could see her backside.

Where is your dad? I thought. And how in the world did you get past him out the front door?!

Sheep without a shepherd.

---

Texting.

They were texting during class.

The instructor went on teaching.

And the kids went right on texting.

Sheep without a shepherd.

---

"Babel. The Tower of Babel," he repeated.

The student asked what that was again.

"Surely you jest," replied the instructor. Did I detect a hint of sarcasm?

No, the student was serious. He had no idea what the Tower of Babel was.

Must not have been on the statement of faith.

Sheep without a shepherd.

Yup.

I'll say it again.

Once a week academies are just government schools for homeschoolers.

Please.

I appeal to you.

Bring your children home.

For real.

Look Ma! No Disciples (Part Three)

I was scanning the water vigilantly. Three of my kiddos were out there, and I wasn't about to take my eyes off of them. Yes, at least eight lifeguards lined the edges of the wave pool. But I'm not much of a lifeguard kind of gal. Never have been. So when the waves started, and a lifeguard blew his whistle, I was on my feet. I only had eyes for them.

To lifeguards, my kids are just a few in the crowd.

But to me, each one is a gift, a jewel with its own unique facets, that only I can see after countless hours of observation.

Trust my kids to a lifeguard?

Not a chance.

So I don't trust the kids to lifeguards...

or Sunday school staff...

or youth group leaders...

or teachers...

One day, we will give an account for our children to God...

Unlike lifeguards, who will never give an account.

Nor will Sunday school staff...

or youth group leaders...

or teachers.

I previously blogged that homeschooling is in trouble.

And I've gotten wonderful feedback.

And it has been forwarded to battle-weary co-ops in totally different regions where the homeschooling homeschoolers are finally gaining victory over the non-homeschooling homeschoolers!

And a new generation of homeschooled graduates is also taking up the cause!

That excites me. It excites me because I want to see us close the door on these Dark Ages of homeschooling and return to the Golden Age.

But there are more things to say.

Harder things to say.

Things that risk giving offense.

Things that still tug at my heart and weigh it down.

So, despite the opposition, Brett has urged me to continue the series.

Why do I care about your homeschool?

Because I care about discipleship.

No, there's no "thou shalt homeschool" in the Bible.

But Moses told us on that side of the Cross to disciple our children when we sit down, stand up, walk along the way.

And Jesus told us on this side of the Cross to make disciples of all men. Given the principle of moral proximity, I think our children are the first among all men. Judea comes before the uttermost ends of the earth.

No, there's no verse...

but, in my home, I don't know how to effectively accomplish those commands any other way.

Studies (Rainier Research and the Barna Group) say that Christians are failing at a rate of 80% to raise up the next generation of genuine believers.

That's why I care about homeschooling.

That's why I care about non-homeschooling homeschoolers watering down a genuinely good thing.

That's why I care about people who challenge us to "bring our children home" and then proceed to usurp and intimidate and manipulate.

We are parents.

We are the best Sunday school staff...

the best youth leaders...

the best teachers.

We are the ultimate lifeguards.

80%.

Fail.

Yeah, I'd think we'd all be more concerned with discipleship.

More to come...

Much more.

Look Ma! No Disciples! (Part Two)

And I took the book and read, and behold, the beastess arose out of Williamsburg and spake unto the people. And the people traded Bibles for Greek idolatry and Hindu history and lies about the first men. And the people went up unto the high places and sacrificed wisdom for the knowledge of the goddess of the well-trained mind. And yea verily the disciples were no more.

Homeschooling is in trouble.

I remember where I was.

I remember what I was wearing.

I had nestled my pregnant body in the shade trees of my backyard and read with eyes wide and mouth open.

Slam!

I snapped shut the book in disgust.

I.will.never. do this to my children!

I am not afraid of hard work, thick books, and deep thinking. Heaven knows I'm not. But I will not pursue the ego-feeding idolatry of knowledge in a book which refuses to make the glory of God preeminent in all things, most especially the education of my children.

Oh, that was just the publisher, you know...

Nonsense.

And I refuse.

Homeschooling is in trouble.

"There's probably a picture of you somewhere with a target on it."

His remark made me laugh out loud. "Yup. Probably."

A gentleman and I were talking of the bastard of homeschooling: the one-day-a-week academy (which, let's all be honest here, is really the "sign-my-kid-up-for-all-his-high-school-classes-and-phew!-I-won't-have-to-teach-a-thing" academy).

Let's just say my opinion is not a popular one.

But I maintain that if you keep saying you're bringing your children home, you really ought to do it.

In the Golden Age of homeschooling, parents taught their children at home.

I know.

Crazy-stupid idea.

But I'm just stubborn enough to stick to my guns on this one.

Just ask my husband.

Today, parents who think they're homeschooling (and, yes, they really, really do think they are homeschooling), have forfeit their position as discipler in the lives of their children to...

wait for it...

people with letters like:

BS, chemistry...

BS, mathematics...

MA, English lit...

Th.D...

...while I still submit the only letters that need be associated with the truly quality educator are:

D-A-D and M-O-M.

Homeschooling is in trouble.

We are putting away our books and plopping our children in front of computers and satellite classes.

Well, at least they're at home, you say.

Well, it might be helpful to point out that, while not all conversation implies discipleship, all discipleship implies conversation.

But the satellite has replaced conversation with the parent.

These are the Dark Ages of the homeschooling movement. There is no doubt about it.

Somewhere along the way, we decided it was more important to form a grammatically correct sentence than a Biblically correct idea.

Somewhere along the way, we decided it was more important to balance a stoichiometric equation than to worship the God of the periodic table.

Somewhere along the way, we decided it was more important to memorize the Greek gods than to meditate on the Word.

How utterly tragic.

If we can't form a Biblical thought, we should not waste our time writing a sentence--because we'll have nothing to say.

If we don't worship the Creator, then we simply create scientists who search for facts rather than Truth.

If we don't chew on the Word of God, but we input useless knowledge, we succeed only at raising children who have malnourished souls and bloated minds.

Dr. John Patrick, president of Augustine College in Ottawa, Ontario, says that the difference between good education and bad education is that bad education tells us we must understand to believe, but good education tells us we must believe to understand. That is the crux of the matter.

Truth must precede facts...

or the facts will be wrongly interpreted.

If we don't homeschool to the glory of God, we won't create disciples;

we will create Products of Academia.

If we don't homeschool to the glory of God,

then we shouldn't bother to homeschool at all.

Look Ma! No Disciples! (Part One)

The good people at Focus on the Family sent me this alert a few weeks ago:

"How DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) Could Impact You and Your Family."

Finally, I thought, someone is going to spell out for me why I should care about DOMA! I've been waiting for this for a long time. Yippee! And here was the elucidation offered by Tom Minnery, Senior Vice President of Government and Public Policy at FOF.

Ready?

"Already, an increasing number of public schools are promoting controversial and confusing sexual topics to kids. Homosexual activists groups like GLSEN (The Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network) sponsor events that discuss homosexuality in thousands of public schools and colleges across the nation. This can often create a pressure-cooker situation for Christian teens."

That's it. That's the bomb. That's the thing that should keep us tossing and turning in our beds.

Um...

Let's see. An education system run by the government is going to promote a government agenda? Gosh! I never thought it would come to this...not.

(For the record, I do think there are valid reasons that we should care about DOMA, but how it makes Christians feel in humanist settings is not one of them.)

Jesus warned us to render unto God what is God's and to Caesar what is Caesar's. RC Sproul, Jr, comments in his excellent homeschooling apologetic, When You Rise Up, that the corollary to that is this: Do NOT render unto Caesar what is God's.

Simple--but profound. Yet that is precisely what believers all over the country do every day. Statistics tell us that 80% of children from believing families reject the faith when they grow up. Eighty percent! If that doesn't get your attention, my fellow believer, I don't know what will.

Of course, my favorite of the flimsy arguments offered in defense of throwing our kids to the wolves is, "But if all the believers pull out of the public system, the public system will fall apart!"

Gasp!

Yes?

And?

Another argument is that the government school system is a war zone, and we must send in our Christian soldiers to fight. Not even God Himself did that. Don't believe me? Try Numbers chapter one and 2 Chronicles chapter 25. Men did NOT go off to war until they were twenty years old.

Meanwhile, we're sending our five, ten, fifteen year-olds directly into artillery fire. And, I daresay, this battle for their souls is far more lethal than any battle against the Canaanites. Allow me to connect the dots for you. You'll need one ruler and one pencil.

Draw Dot A. Label "Government Education"

Draw Dot B. Label "Reject the True Faith"

With the help of your ruler, draw line from Dot A to Dot B.

There.

Problem explained...

So, when Mr. Minnery soberly warns me that without DOMA, my kids will suffer pressure in government schools, I say, "Stuff and nonsense. Pressure in public schools was happening long before this issue ever came up. That's why my children aren't there."

They are at home--in a pressure free environment. And when it's time for them to meet that big, bad world, they will be old enough, strong enough, and properly trained with the weapons of that warfare.

Spiritual weapons

For a spiritual war.

But I'd be kidding you if I thought homeschooling wasn't failing, as well.

And I, one of its most stalwart advocates, now also find myself one of its most vocal critics.

More to come...

The Little Lambs and the Big, Bad Wolf

Once upon a time, there was a family by the name of Lamb. The Lambs were a happy family made up of Mr. and Mr. Lamb and all their little Lambs given to them by their loving Shepherd. When the Lambs were tiny, they would stay in the pasture with their parents and eat what they ate, walk where they walked, and sleep where they slept. As they got older, Mr. and Mrs. Lamb realized the Shepherd wanted them to teach the little Lambs how to love the Shepherd and take dominion over the Pasture. That would require skills like math, science, writing, and history. At first, Mr. and Mrs. Lamb did what the other families around them did. They sent them to the highly acclaimed Wolf Academy to be educated like all the others in their neighborhood. However, as the little Lambs spent more time at the Academy, they began to forget how to drink from quiet waters, how to lie down in green pastures, and how to fear the Shepherd. They didn't want to eat what their parents ate or walk where they walked or sleep where they slept. Instead, they became adept at things they learned at the Academy, like baring their teeth and attacking the other Lambs. Mr. and Mrs. Lamb were very alarmed, and one day, they decided to pull the little Lambs out of Wolf Academy.

But, oh, the uproar! The teachers at Wolf Academy were angry with Mr. and Mrs. Lamb. "There is more to life than knowing your shepherd," they snarled. "Why, we don't even know if he exists. We have never actually seen this so-called shepherd." This only served to make the Lamb family more determined than ever to teach their own children. It was very hard. They didn't always have the right books, and it took a great many hours of their own time reviewing what they had learned when they were little Lambs themselves. But they were motivated by their love for their Lambs and their desire to please the Shepherd. And the Shepherd said, "Fear not. I will gently lead those that are with young." So, in spite of the very hard work, they applied themselves diligently and loved the Shepherd and understood the Pasture. Other Lamb families began to notice this, and they, too, educated their little ones themselves. And those little ones, too, grew up to be intelligent, articulate Lambs who walked with the Shepherd and took care of the Pasture.

But then something dreadful happened. As the years went by--about twenty to be exact--the big Lambs forgot why they were doing all this work. They envied the ease and leisure of the parents who sent their little Lambs to Wolf Academy. They complained of the long hours it took to teach their children expertly about the Shepherd and the Pasture. But they were still intelligent enough to know that the Wolf Academy would take the 'lambiness' out of their children. Oh, what to do, what to do? They grew discontented and lazy. And their complaining and laziness dulled their once sharp minds....

Then one day a new Lamb came into the pasture. He was a very intelligent Lamb. Why, he was so smart that he had actually taught at Wolf Academy. He had even taught at Wolf University! His name was Mr. Ram, and not only was he very smart, he was very shrewd--and quite the businessman. One day, he called a meeting of all the Lamb parents in the Pasture.

"As you know, I have spent lots of time outside the pasture honing my amazing math skills and then teaching them to other little ones. I can see that you parents really do not know how to teach math to your little Lambs. In fact, you are very poor at it. If you keep trying to do this yourselves, your little Lambs are not going to be good at all at taking care of the Pasture when they grow up. Then what will the Shepherd say? He will be very disappointed in you, of course."

The parent lambs were very sad. They knew how much time it took to teach their children. And math, as everyone knows, is nearly impossible to teach without just the right college degree. While they could not justify sending the little Lambs to Wolf Academy, they considered that no harm would come to the little Lambs by only spending one hour every week taking pre-algebra with Mr. Ram. So they acquiesced. But still, there were some who regarded Mr. Ram with caution. He had bad breath, and they thought they caught an occasional glimpse of fangs.

And another year went by. And still the Shepherd reminded the flock, "I will gently lead those who are with young."

Then, one day, Mr. Ram called another meeting. "Your kids have been with me for a year now, and you now know for yourself just how amazing I am. You also now know just how preposterous was your own intention of long ago to teach your children math. But there is another problem. Your children also need science. You know you don't have the credentials to teach your own children science. It would be foolish for you to think you could, just as it was foolish for you to think you could teach them math. And you do not want to disappoint the Shepherd. Therefore, I will help you please the Shepherd. I will teach science to your little Lambs." So the little Lambs left their parents each week now for two hours, one for math and one for science. And how the mother Lambs rejoiced in two hours of free time, and how the father Lambs rejoiced in not having to talk anymore about math and science! But some Lambs still smelled the bad breath and saw glimpses of fangs.

And another year went by. And still the Shepherd reminded the flock, "I will gently lead those that are with young."

The next year, Mr. Ram called another meeting. "My dear parents, now you know how amazing I am at teaching your lambs math and science. But the Shepherd does not want your lambs to only know math and science. He wants them to know how to write. If you let me have just one more hour with your children every week, I will teach them how to write. After all, you don't really think, do you , that you are qualified to teach them to write? What would the Shepherd say?" And so the Lambs spent three hours every week being tutored by Mr. Ram. And the parents now had three uninterrupted hours of peace. But some of the Lambs remained stubbornly suspicious of Mr. Ram and continued to keep their little Lambs close. His wool seemed to tilt oddly to one side.

And another year went by. And still the Shepherd reminded the flock, "I will gently lead those that are with young."

The following year, Mr.Ram again assembled the parents and again reminded them of his amazing skills and vast knowledge. "Poor silly, stupid Lambs," he gently scoffed, looking through his spectacles and over his long snout at them. "After all these years, do you still insist on trying to teach your Lambs? The most important things your Lambs need to know in order to take proper dominion of the Pasture is how to think and how to view the world. If you cannot teach your little ones math or science or writing, do you still kid yourselves that you can teach them the most important thing? How to think? Why, you're not even certified!!!" The Lambs shook their heads in shame. Of course, Mr. Ram was right. What were they thinking? And they turned their little ones over to him for history and worldview and literature and anything else that required deep, difficult thought. The parents sighed happily and contentedly. Now they could do the things that really pleased the Shepherd, like work and ministry and Bible studies. And their little Lambs would grow up to be amazingly brilliant just like Mr. Ram. How pleased the Shepherd must be with them now! But still, some of the lambs clung to their little ones and appealed to the Shepherd for assistance as they rolled up their sleeves and trudged on teaching math, science, writing, history, literature, and worldview themselves.

And the years went by. And the Shepherd reminded the flock, "I will gently lead those that are with young." But only a few of the families were listening anymore. It was easier to listen to what Mr. Ram said about the Shepherd than to what the Shepherd said Himself.

And before anyone realized it, the little Lambs were full-grown adults! And all of them were ready to go off to University so they could come back and take serious dominion over the Pasture. And the little Lambs taught by their parents were intelligent and articulate and wise. They encountered fangs, bad breath, and lopsided wool at University, but it was repulsive to them, and they wisely kept their distance. Most importantly, they loved their parents, and they loved the Pasture, and they loved the Shepherd. They were strong and good. They took wise dominion over the Pasture and pleased the Shepherd. They enjoyed eating what their parents ate and walking where their parents walked and sleeping where their parents slept. The Shepherd was very pleased. He blessed them with little Lambs of their own and whispered to them, "I will gently lead those that are with young."

The Lambs who were taught by Mr. Ram went off to University and met a pack of wolves. But they were not at all alarmed by the sharp teeth or the bad breath. And sadly, the Lambs put themselves in the path of the wolves. And the wolves, being wolves, devoured the Lambs. Many of them died of their wounds. Some, beaten and bloodied, limped home to the Pasture. But they did not seek help from their parents. Hadn't Mr. Ram repeatedly reminded them how unqualified their parents were? Besides, now they were unaccustomed to what their parents ate and where they walked and where they slept. They did recall some occasional mention of a shepherd. But that was only minimal. And what could he do, anyway? And so, the bruised lambs left the Pasture and the protection of the Shepherd for good. The saddest thing of all was that their parents never did figure out why they lost their precious little ones to the wolves.

And the Shepherd cried.