Teaching from Rest: A Homeschooler's Guide to Unshakable Peace

by Sarah Mackenzie

The real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in and out of the wind. —C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Faithfulness is showing up every day to do the work He has called us to. Whether or not things turn out in the end as I’m hoping they will (for my children to have a strong faith, humble and compassionate hearts, a love for learning, and an academic skill set that helps them seek out knowledge and truth every day and everywhere) is not actually within my span of control. It’s not my assigned task. He isn’t asking me to succeed on the world’s terms. He’s asking me to faithfully do the work.

Curriculum isn’t something we buy. It’s something we teach. Something we embody. Something we love. It is the form and content of our children’s learning experiences.

However, how we interact with our children while using the material matters far more than whether or not we get through it. Instead of focusing on what we need to cover in any given year, it may be helpful to think about what we might uncover and master. After all, if our eyes are so fixed on the finish line that we miss the experience entirely, what have we really gained for our labors?

It is wise to evaluate our pace in light of our child—the trouble arises when we value the timeline over the child God gave us to teach.

Pacing doesn’t matter if you are sacrificing mastery and love for truth, goodness, and beauty. Change the way you assess your success. The quality of study matters far more than the mere quantity of learning.

Live your life, relish ideas, wrestle. Remember, think, and converse. That is a curriculum you cannot buy, but your child’s heart and mind will feast on it for years to come.

You know this. I know this. But we’ve got to start living it. We are spinning our wheels because we’re frantically trying to “get through” published curriculum as if turning the last page in the book by the beginning of summer vacation will somehow mean that our children learned something. The truth is, they do learn something from that. But it’s not at all the message we want them to internalize.

Plant a garden, keep house, learn to knit, cook, listen to audio books, visit new places, take factory tours, go to parks, sing, watch a play, go to museums, make music, take walks, care for pets, build things, watch films, listen to the stories of grandparents and elderly neighbors, go to church, celebrate the seasons, decorate the house for the holidays, create family traditions, play with art, visit the library and learn how to use it, go to the farmer’s market, pick berries, read poetry and commit some to memory. Remember that children will learn well what they see in us, what they will inevitably imitate.

Cultivating intellectual growth, nurturing our creativity, diving into good books, learning new skills, working refreshment into a busy routine—that is how we fill our pitchers brimful of water.