The children are screaming and running through the house, yet the sun has barely had a chance to catch it's breath of morning air. The children are in their breakfast smeared PJ's and resisting every move I make to try and turn them into civil and obedient little citizens. Finally, I grab each one by the hand and lead them up the stairs. One by one they get dressed, brush their teeth, comb their hair, wash their oatmeal smeared faces, and even help to make their beds. I rush them downstairs, but out the door we don't go. Instead, we gather into our beautifully sun filled school room.
Ella's Desk & Workboxes |
My Desk & Eric's |
Children are no longer screaming, faces are eager to learn, and a rocking chair for the three of us to cuddle on awaits us.
Reading Chair |
The kids quickly fight for a spot on my lap, luckily the chair and my lap are big enough for my two little ones now 5 and 2. Despite the initial opposition, we are ready to begin our school day.
Life in our house is a little different, as our kids aren't shipped off at the end of summer to the "magic" school bus or the big brown building down the street wondering with uncertainty and a bit of nervousness what each day will hold for them. They have security in knowing that our school house is in a place of love, respect, and in a house that love's the Lord. "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it" Proverbs 22:6
So, we begin again. A new year, but an old story of the end of summer.