Last weekend I attended NC’s Home Education Conference with my children. Yes. You read correctly. I’ve attended homeschool conferences the past four years – with friends, not children — and every year I see mothers toting their littles around with them and think, “Wow. Those women have dis-attachment disorder. They can’t de-attach from their children even to attend a homeschool conference!”
I hadn’t planned on attending a conference this year. For the past two years, they’ve evoked not much within but Solomon’s words – “There’s nothing new under the sun.” The keynote messages were old news, the personally applicable workshops dwindling. Look, if after nearly nine years of homeschooling I don’t know how to “fit my size 16 day into a size 10,” or “Navigate the curriculum jungle,” then maybe I ought not be homeschooling anymore. (Disclaimer: I think those are great workshops. Just not for me in this season of schooling)
But, somewhere in the middle of last month, during a particular hair-pulling moment, I heard a whisper, “Go. Stop being a skeptic. Embrace this season.” Maybe an injection of homeschool enthusiasm was what I needed. Some fresh vision casting. Some reminding of “why”, so I can persevere through the “what’s”. I texted my friend to ask her plans. She texted me back: “I am going. Taking the kids.”
Egats! Did I just read that right?
Next bubble: “There is a 2 day kids conference.”
Oh. Well, then. Maybe. Actually? This could be fun.
My mind turned over the idea. The more I examined all the angles, the more fun it appeared. Then slowly, a new turn revealed the greatest reason of all to go: I felt an internal yearning to be alone with all my children, rather than the usual external pulling that has for the past three years cast shadow over most every outing. “I have to….,” “I need to….”, “I should….” had been replaced with, “I want to….”
Throughout the weekend, as I recognized spontaneous affection pouring forth, I thanked God for every second of it. I didn’t ask Him to keep it coming. I didn’t ask Him if this was it: would the flow of complete attachment continue from here on after? I claim it in the name of Jesus, Amen!
No. I didn’t do any of that. I simply stood still, drenching myself in every moment of unleashed, deep-pulsing compassionate tenderness.
These moments are the only time I have with them, in these ages, at these stages. The remaining threads of adoption bonding still fly free in the air. But the strands are shortening; being woven into our family’s tapestry. And when it is complete, I would like to look back and see that I was a pliable needle in the Master Weaver’s hands.
How difficult is it for you to live fully present? Is there something in your life making it more difficult to perceive and accept God’s tender moment by moment mercies?