Sometimes the answer is just that obvious.
I love “aha” moments—the intersection of time when something murky becomes clear. It happens in an instant. One minute I’m grappling with nuances and details, struggling with the disconnect and the next, it all comes together.
When I make a sudden change, an observer could say that I made a snap decision. I would say that I can see how they might think that. But no one else is in my brain. No one else (but God) has heard my prayers. No one else is living my life. When something makes sense, it makes sense. Why wait?
I’ve tested this theory more than a few times in my life, the first time twenty-five years ago when I said “I do.” My husband and I were married on the one-year anniversary of our first date. We didn’t have a long, protracted dating and engagement period. Common wisdom said, Wait, Give it time, Make sure.
The second time was when we decided to start a family. Within three months, I was pregnant. Common wisdom said, Wait, Establish your career, Buy a house first.
We have started businesses and purchased homes with what those prone to judgment might consider little forethought. We’ve made mistakes, sure. But we’ve also watched friends who agonize over decisions make mistakes, too. There is no sure thing.
Sometimes God tells us to wait and we have done that, too.
But when opportunity presents itself, when change presents itself in completed form, when a spontaneous possibility drops into my head, I have learned to listen and act.
God is not a god of confusion. If I’ve been praying about something and He gives me an answer, he expects me to believe him. In the common analogy of the stranded man on the rooftop, God didn’t send a lifeboat and expect the guy to question the deliverance. We chuckle at the story because he does and misses God’s obvious hand. Yet, we do the same thing. We are spooked by stories of foolishness and impulsive behavior. So we confuse ourselves by creating laundry lists of all the things that can be wrong with a decision. And we miss the boat.
The truth is that there will be pros and cons in every decision. It matters not how many hours I’ve devoted to premeditation. The best-laid plans can go terribly wrong. Sometimes we just have to jump and trust in the God we say we trust.
This is beginning to sound so sinister. It’s really not. But I wanted my heart known as I announce that SJ is returning to traditional school on Monday.
It doesn’t really matter what you think, but I live my life transparently and I really dislike being misunderstood, or labeled, and especially judged. What matters is that I am confident with my decision and I am. He is ready. He is excited. And I believe he will be successful.
Until this week, I hadn’t even considered the option until I awoke fully one night with the possibility firmly planted. It resonated. It felt right. I said, “Aha.”
Homeschooling was always stop-gap measure for us. I’ve never been morally married to the philosophy but I have the utmost appreciation for the opportunity to intervene in my son’s education. It will not have been wasted.
Through the process, SJ has learned skills that will move him through his remaining required education. I have been disciplined to devote my mornings to real work and will transfer that time to my writing. I have a book to finish and a gift to share. I am thankful that God has used the homeschooling process, as well as some other pruning, to send me back to Ninevah.
So, while this may appear to be a snap decision, please withhold your opinion and let me point you to a God who is clear in his communication. I would prefer your prayers toward a productive year for my entire family.
It’s been a pleasure to chronicle my journey and travel alongside some amazing (and brilliant) moms. I have the utmost respect for those who homeschool year after year. It is not for the faint of heart.
If you have enjoyed this blog, stay tuned. I just might start A Writing Regel: One Woman’s Journey into Professional Writing.
For now,
Carrie
