Once upon a time there was a little boy who lived in a place not too far from here.
The little boy’s brain saw the world differently than most of others, which sometimes made him sad, but for the most part it was a very good thing. The little boy had a very big brain and was able to do a lot of things other people could not because of the big brain his Maker had gifted him with.
The world was uncomfortable with how the little boy’s brain worked, because it didn’t work quite like what others would call “normal”, so they raised a banner over him and wrote “Autistic” on it, and called him by that. But his family, who loved him dearly, they just called him by his name, because he was exactly who he was supposed to be, and they knew that God had knit him together perfectly, and for a mighty purpose. His family knew he was to be a great knight, a warrior, and that no banner the world placed over him would ever overshadow the banner of God was flying over him even before he was born. The little boy was a beautiful and perfect gift given to his family.
Over the years the boy’s parents thought and prayed long and hard about what the right decisions were to raise their knight. The little boy had faith in God like they had not seen in a child before, and he bore beautiful witness to his Maker in the school that was teaching him the basics of knighthood- reading, writing, and arithmetic. He tried very hard in school, and often did well. There were fair maidens there who guided him and equipped him to be ready to do battle when he faced the world, and even one year a lady in the lake gave him a sword, she taught him to read.
It came to pass that the little boy’s time at the school was over. He was ready to move to a new adventure. These are the chronicles you will find here…


Caleb and I have given much deliberation and many prayers to the thought of home school for quite some time. It really started to hit home (no pun intended) when I did an interview for a lady who was writing a paper on children with “special needs”. One of the questions asked why I wasn’t homeschooling my “special needs” child. That question struck me. I had not considered it but for a second when Josh was diagnosed, because we felt like school was imperative for socialization. From there my wheels started turning. Never in my life, never EVER had I considered myself a teacher, not in the “Three R’s” sort of sense (reading, writing, arithmetic). The thought of dealing with kids all day long while I was growing up made me nauseous and I started to tremble if I thought about it. My house is normally a tragic mess. I am not at all organized. I’m definitely the “free spirit” of my household. I like to tell people “I keep my head in the clouds while my husband holds my feet on the ground”, so I always have felt I was more of the starving artist type than level-minded teacher.
But God……But God, But God, But God………Oh how He loves to take all of my plans in that hand that holds the whole world in and say “Little girl, you think you have a good thing going, but watch what I can do with this little that you give me….You just need to give it to me.” Our family has been through some gut-wrenching things over the past few years, things that broke us, things that crushed us in almost every sense of the word, emotionally, physically, etc. But through those terrible experiences, just has He did with Job, He has restored us with better, better than we could have imagined.
So here’s something I’m taking away from this recent experience:

Had we not been through those nasty, stomach churning events that in some cases forcefully severed me from what I thought was God’s best for me the past two years I would not have been open to trusting God with giving up public school. Public school was not bad thing. I myself had an overall exceptional public school experience. However, my husband and I both feel it’s not God’s best plan for our son(s) at this point in life. Those experiences we went through over the past few years made it easier to trust God and take the leap of faith across the unknown into the arms of our Maker, so that He could make room for something bigger in my son’s life, so that Josh could get God’s best.
The decision was easy and confirmation after confirmation poured in after we took the leap. But walking out the beast of a call to homeschool has been difficult. Did you know that picking out homeschool curriculum can give one heart palpitations? Seriously, they should have that in fine print at homeschool conventions. I don’t know why all the bloggers who write on homeschool are not putting a disclaimer in their posts: “Warning, walking through the door of any homeschool convention can potentially cause a mild heart attack. Not for those with pre-existing conditions.” This goes especially for people like me who see something shiny and are on to the next subject.
I’m still not a mom naturally geared for homeschool. I don’t know if I will ever be. What if I mess him up? What if he turns into some weird kid who grows his hair out over his face so he won’t have to make eye contact with people? What if he is with me so much that he won’t be able to function without me? What if I am such a helicopter parent that I ruin any chance of him getting married and I lose my opportunity for grandchildren….and he has to stay in my house…..FOREVER?? But, what if, just what if, the Lord allows me the privilege of establishing a firm foundation in the areas of his struggles? What if through the grace of God I can give him starting point so stout that he stands tall, as tall as he possibly can. What if I get to see him fly and then soar in the things he loves? What an honor to be given this opportunity.
So today, my son’s last day of public school at least for the foreseeable future, I found myself in the school office withdrawing him, almost in tears at the secretary’s sweet words. There are so many people in that place who love my son. Today I went through the car pool line for the last time and watched his teachers past and present give big hugs to my baby as they said goodbye, people who have spent as much time with him over the school year as I have. I cried as I drove off people. I cried a lot. With my precious knightly cargo in tow I drove off into the sun set to a new, exciting, scary-as-all-get-out, but God ordained adventure, knowing that though his time has been good in public school I’m willing to surrender it for his best time yet.