Faith & Family
For Ourselves
Seated in a small exam room last Thursday, I discussed with a dermatologist the itchy rash that’s commandeered one of my ankles in recent years. Having zero dermatological experience or expertise, I had little choice but to trust the petite woman standing in front of me suggesting that perhaps my rash was some sort of fungus and that the prescribed medication should clear it up in about fourteen days. (By the way, it does appear to be working—fingers crossed!)
Similarly, I tend to take our veterinarian at his word (like when we brought Charlotte in this summer after discovering a cyst the size of a ping pong ball on her stomach), and you’ll never hear me arguing with law enforcement over miscellaneous rules of the road. About a month ago we called a repairman out to the house to diagnose an issue with our HVAC system, because, last I checked, neither my husband nor I are certified to do that. (Endlessly squabbling over what the temperature in the house should be is as close to that subject as I prefer to get.)
There are countless scenarios in which a person really has no choice but to trust the authority and insight of others, am I right? But how often do we sincerely investigate those other, crucial matter, like what we believe or the best practices for rearing our own kids?
I started homeschooling my boys when they were little, and—I’m not exaggerating here—I’ve questioned this whole time (since about 2015) if I’m doing the “right” thing. (Goodness that’s a long time to feel anxious. Also, bear in mind that I bring up this topic merely for the sake of my point, not necessarily to try and convince you of anything concerning education, because THAT’S my point: sometimes we must decide things for ourselves.)
Growing up, I was enrolled in public school. For roughly seven hours each day I’d settle into a desk (usually late because mornings are the worst) and (kind of) listen as teachers presented lessons in buildings inundated with lockers, hallways, and books. My parents attended public schools as well, and their parents probably did, too—it’s what’s done, right? Who are we to object to a concept established in the 17th century!
But I guess I did. I wasn’t opposed to my kids receiving an education—an excellent one, actually—but it would happen at home, amid family and everyday comforts. I wanted to know what my kids were being taught and who was influencing their hearts. More recently, we’ve found additional opportunities (and friends!) through the local homeschool cooperative. (Did you know there are probably hundreds of children in our own community being educated at home? It’s not a new idea, and these days there are innumerable resources available.)
However, because I’ve made a habit of people-pleasing my way through life (and, let’s be honest, I’m still that insecure little girl), no matter how strongly I feel, doubt still worms its way in: That person doesn’t approve of homeschooling, and I’d rather not upset them. Am I doing the right thing?
That mama posts the cutest pictures of her kids at all their school events. Are my kids missing out? Am I doing the right thing?
Why haven’t we started our school day yet—it’s eight o’clock! Everyone knows school begins at eight and ends promptly at three! We are so failing at life right now—surely this is not the right thing. (By the way, did you know U.S. schools primarily adopted this timetable simply to accommodate bus routes and parents’ work schedules? It has less to do with academics and more to do with logistics.)
But my mind was only opened to a lot of this after analyzing things for myself and determining that the well-worn path before me wasn’t the only option. People are not machines, designed to robotically execute life, and what may be someone else’s path just might not be ours.
That person over there waiting ever so patiently in the school drop-off line—gosh, she’s doing right by her kids. Meanwhile— over here conducting a spelling test in my comfy pants while simultaneously folding laundry—I am, too.
A resident of McDonough County, Erin Eddy lives in Macomb with her husband, Mike, their five boys, and two zealous Australian Shepherds. She aspires to uplift readers, penning stories of encouragement and everyday life. Her work has been featured on the influential website Her View From Home, as well as the book series Chicken Soup for the Soul. Contact [email protected].
