Archive for the ‘It’s A “God” Thing’ Category

Sunrise in the pacific northwest: Mount Saint Helens in the distance

Well, today’s the day. Today, we pull out of our cozy home here in Washington and hit the road. On tap for today: 10 hours of driving.

Yesterday was rough. Jay and I flew in from speaking at CAPE in Albuquerque on Sunday. I unpacked our suitcases, ran some laundry, and packed them up again.

When preparing to leave home for two months, you’ve got to have your thinking cap on.

Only yesterday, my poor little thinking cap seemed to have been misplaced. I felt overwhelmed. The kind of overwhelmed that keeps you from cleaning your house because you don’t know where to start. I struggled to think clearly. Even my lists were overwhelming!

And then there is the fear that plagues my heart and mind.

What if we are robbed again? What if we break down?  What if someone gets sick or injured? What if …

Here’s the thing: God already knows what’s going on. It does not do me any good to worry. And the most frustrating thing for me is that I know it! 

Busy mom, we serve an awesome God. He gets it.

Today as I sat down to read my Bible, I looked at the calendar and noticed it was April 23. I don’t normally do this but I sensed that God would have me read Psalm 23 — and in the quietness of the dawn,God met me.

Psalm 23

Isn’t God good!? He knows exactly what we need each day. Are you spending time with Him each day, busy mom? He wants to meet with you.  As I read today, God gently reminded me that He’s right.here. He’s always been here. He always will be.

He guides us along RIGHT paths–for His name’s sake. 

He leads us beside quiet waters.

He restores our souls.

Mom, whatever you’re facing today, you can trust Him. Whatever you walk through, He’s walking beside you. He’s got it covered.

He’s good like that.

It was 1993.

We were expecting our second baby.  Our first daughter had mastered toddling and was rapidly moving into terrorizing. Ahh, the “terrible twos” were upon us.

But she was beautiful, this tottering two-year old. I could get lost in her big brown eyes.  Just watching her playing in that small, sunlit corner of our living room made me smile. I had never known a love like the love that I felt for this little girl.

As my second pregnancy progressed, I wondered how it could ever be possible to love another baby as much as I loved Savannah. I could not fathom there could be room in my heart for more love.

But I was wrong. Turns out, the human heart is capable of so.much.love.

Sierra was born in December. Her eyes danced, too. Her smile was perfect. I’ll never forget the relief that washed over me when I held her in my arms for the first time.  I wept like a baby. You see, I had been carrying her for the past five months under a cloud of worry.  Jay and I had been told that it was more than 60% likely that she had Down Syndrome. It looked as if she had a small hole in her heart. Her measurements were “off.”  We were sent to a genetic counselor.

Our options were laid out clearly: Abortion or “Take a Chance.”  Amniocentesis was not something we were interested in. Abortion was absolutely out of the question. The thought of taking her life horrified and hurt us.  We had seen her! Seen her heart beating. Seen her beautiful silhouette via ultrasound. Seen her little feet and seen her fully formed body.

Surely, the “experts” saw it too, this beautiful, tiny human being.

After our second visit and a level two ultrasound, our “genetic counselor” offered his best advice. We ignored it.

We took “a chance”.

“Thumbs up, mom!”

And then, we wrestled with the fear the followed the faith.  Oh the fear.  Every kick she made inside me said, “I’m here!” Every hiccup, every movement reminded me that she was growing. She was coming into our lives.

Sometimes, you just have to trust that God knows what He is doing.

On the day that Sierra was born, the room was full of doctors. One for neonatal intensive care. One for her heart. One to assess her for Down Syndrome.

And one to observe how it all played out.

I labored silently, determined to save as much energy as I could for my baby’s arrival. Jay put his head next to mine. I love that man.

Quietly, our daughter made her entrance into the world. For a moment, I am sure Jay and I stopped breathing. The heart specialist called for his nurse. And then ..my doctor looked up at me and his look said it all: she was healthy. No way to be sure in an instant–but we were instantly sure.

The worry and fear from the past five months came flooding to the surface of my mama’s heart. I wept as our little seven pound miracle breathed in and out on my chest.

Sometimes, the “experts” are just wrong.

Sometimes, we have no choice but to go with what we KNOW to be true, based on what God has told us about Himself. Even if Sierra would have been born with Down Syndrome or heart problems, what we knew to be true was this: God created her. He loved her. He gave her to us. And He would give us what we needed to care for her.

Choosing life for our daughter was one of the “we know it to be true” kinds of things.

Fast-forward several years.

A new parenting program was being touted at our church. We had three kids by then.  And I won’t lie to you,  we needed a little help.

Expert help, you could say.

We enrolled in the parenting class along with about ten other couples.

Advice abounded. A parenting formula: Mix a little-of-this with a-little-of-that and VOILA.  You’ve got a kid who will respect you and respect others, obey on command, help without complaint and obey immediately without question or hesitation.

That’s what the “experts” said.

Sign me up for that!  Who wouldn’t want that?

We were all so young. We wanted to do the best thing for our kids.  Besides, the promise of the program resonated: if you just do ____ then your kids will turn out great.

The downside to formulaic parenting is so immense that I can’t cover it in a blog post but let me say this:

Formula and faith do not mix.

I’ll never forget the pressure that we felt as a result of that class.  My husband was a worship pastor at the time. I felt like I was mothering in a giant fishbowl. People were watching. And my imperfect kids had to deal with imperfect, flawed, fearful me.

Bummer.

Formulas don’t work. There are no cookie-cutter methods for parenting. Our children are not all cut from one mold.

Sometimes, the experts are wrong.

There are principles but there are no guarantees.

There are promises but there is no way to avoid the tough realities of day-to-day mothering: It’s just hard sometimes.  Parenting requires a listening, discerning spirit.  I can require obedience but without the heart to obey, obedience is just another action.

For a while we were caught up in the legalism of following a formula. And it was burdensome.

During that time, I learned that parents can be particularly hard on other parents. Especially when we think we’re right and someone else is wrong.

Sometimes, I think I’m the expert.
And then, something happens that reminds me I’m not.
Thank God for grace.

Fast-forward again.

Two of our children are grown. (Where did the time go?  I thought I had more time…)  And I realize more with each passing day that I must depend on the Lord to help me guide each child. I also realize that God has been gracious. Our children are each so different, each with their own set of unique needs. Each situation requires me to respond differently.

True confession: I wanted an “expert” to tell me FOR SURE that our daughter was marrying the right man.  (She did, by the way.) But in the end, God said, “Trust Me.  Trust Me in your daughter.”

Turns out our daughter was learning to hear God during those precious years we had her at home.

Not from an expert. But from our example. Sometimes a bad example. But an example, nevertheless.

I get to be a steward of these precious ones while they are in our home. Now that I’ve seen how bad advice can skew a family, and I’ve lived long enough to see how fast the growing years go by, my perspective is changed.  I’m learning to become even more intentional with the time God has given me to till and plant and nourish the lives that He has entrusted to Jay and me. As you’ve heard me say before, I’m learning to become an intentional arborist.

There are wonderful books out there on parenting. But be careful when you pick up a book that is rule-based or promises a specific result.

Every day, ask the Lord to help you as you nurture your children.  I’ve been asking God for many things over the years–and these come to mind first:

1. Humility. If anyone ever tells you that there are “Three Steps to a New Kid” or whatever … run. It’s a formula. And it’s prideful to boot. None of us has it all together. 
2. A heart to understand God’s heart. Not hard-and-fast rules. As I get older and walk with Jesus more, I realize this means I need to be reading His Word as often as I can … so that I can know His heart and not be driven by fear or by the rules of men.
3. Gentleness. Gentleness is a much overlooked fruit of the Spirit. It’s evidence that God is at work. Gentleness is present when we discipline our children because the Spirit is there too.
4. Discernment in discipline. Sometimes, love must be tough. Sometimes, we make decisions for our children that will allow them to feel the consequences of their actions. Discernment tells us when to use tough love and when to let the circumstance teach the child while we love them through it.  There are no easy answers.
5. A heart to understand my children. We can’t get to the hearts of our children by sequestering them from the world with a rule book and a list of consequences for bad behavior. Children need love and nurture along with correction. One without the other produces hard hearts.

Our options are clearly laid out for us. We can choose a path that promises a particular result, or we can “take a chance” on trusting that the promises and correction found in God’s Word will apply to each of our children exactly when they need it to.

The only real “expert” advice we can count on is found in the Bible.  We don’t need to have all the answers.  We just need to know the One who does.

“What if, sometimes, there are mists and fogs so thick that I cannot see the path? ‘Tis enough that You hold my hand, and guide me in the darkness; for walking with You in the gloom–is far sweeter and safer than walking alone in the sunlight!

Dear Lord, give me grace to trust You wholly, whatever may befall; yielding myself up to Your leading, and leaning hard on You when “dangers are in the path.” Your way for me has been marked out from all eternity, and it leads directly to Yourself and home!”

~Susannah Spurgeon

I looked in the mirror the other day and laughed along with God.

No joke.

I laughed.

Why? Because I have seven kids, that’s why.  And I think it makes God smile.

Why? Because it’s me, that’s why. 

Me.

The woman who has to buy silk plants because I have a startling ability to kill both plants and small animals. (I boiled my fish to death in their aquarium when I was 14.  True story.)

In my defense, the thermostat broke while I was at school. But still. I think I have PTSD from that episode.

God knew all about my anti-nurturing qualities and still, He saw fit to entrust me with seven precious lives.

Seven.

S E V E N beautiful pairs of baby feet.  Made just for me and my husband by the God of the universe.

I think God is smiling at me right this minute, thinking about my dead fish and my silk plants—and those seven precious people who call me … MOM.

You see, God knows me. I’ve learned He knows me better than I know myself.

He knows my name.

I like to picture Him saying it … I listen for it.

And I hear Him—in the stillness that comes with the morning light. I hear Him.  ”Heidi.”

Just.Like.That.  Gentle. Patient.

Like a father should be.

Like any good father, He knew I was terrified of motherhood. Terrified that I was destined to repeat a generational sin in my family. Terrified that I was not equipped to take care of a baby.  Terrified that I would mess it up. And even more terrified to admit it.

My Father knew my fears as a young mother-to-be.

And He still knows them. {He’s good like that.}

Sometimes, Father lets me wrestle with a question. Sometimes, He sends an answer.

Rarely early. Never late.

I think He knows when I need an answer and when I can wait a while longer.

In September of 1991, I had a question that couldn’t wait. I needed an answer.

Life hung in the balance.

New life.

He knows my name. He knows my name.

I was a woman who was about to give birth.  My fear of failing bubbled to the surface. My spirit struggled under the weight of  an uncertain future.

Could I do this?  Really?
Would I be an angry mother?
Could I overcome my fear?

Just a few days before our precious first-born entered this world, I broke down. Tears rolled down my face and dropped quietly onto my burgeoning belly. It was time to face my fear.

He knows my name.

As I sat in the living room of a dear woman of God, I confided in her. I unpacked my fears. I told my story.

And God sent me His answer through this precious friend.

Rarely early. Never late.

“I can’t do it!” I wailed. “I don’t know how! I don’t know how not to be angry.”

It was all I had ever known, really. Anger.

He knows my name.

“Heidi, ” Nola said, “Why are you crying? God has made you new.  You are a new creation! You are redeemed! Called by name. Loved. Set apart. You are not bound by your past. You.Are.New.”

He knows my name.

In that moment, I was set free. Free to be the woman God made me to be. Free to be the mother I wanted to be.

That was nearly twenty-two years ago.

Do I still battle with my fears? Yes.

Do I struggle? Fall? Fail?

Yes.

But here’s the thing: I’m learning what it means to be truly free.

Free to be imperfect. Free to ask for help.

Free to mess things up.  To ask for grace —grace to be the woman God sees when He looks at me.

He knows my name.

He knows your name too, precious mom. He knows your fears—He’s seen your failures.

And He loves you.

You can trust Him with your fears and your failures. Lean hard into His arms. He can hold you up.

He knows your name. Can you hear Him saying it?

Look up. Listen.

He knows your name.

If you’ve been hanging around my blog for a while, then you know that I am a follower of Jesus. I am here to bear witness to the healing power and awesome forgiveness of Jesus. I am also a woman who has been set free—and I don’t care who knows it. I was lost—and now I’m found… blind, and now I see!  I’m a new creation in Christ! It makes me want to shout and sing!

Some of you may have read a post I wrote some time ago, called “Broken.” I take such comfort in knowing that God thinks my “broken” is actually beautiful. It means I don’t have to have it all together. And it means that I can learn to love broken people like me.  Amy Grant once said, “Hard times come—and they’ll come til’ we’re done.”  Wise words.

Being in Christ doesn’t mean I don’t have bad days though. Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble!” Bummer. I don’t get a “pass” on suffering. But. Because I trust the Lord, and because I’ve experienced His faithfulness, I see a greater purpose in suffering. I’m learning to trust Him more every day, even when I don’t understand— I trust. ♥ This morning, I was reading in Psalms and one little verse popped out at me:

“God is present in the company of the righteous.” (Ps. 14)

I love that. God is present. He’s here! He listens. And He loves us.

In another Psalm (Ps 46), we read that God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

Again—EVER present. God doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t get tired of us. He longs for an intimate relationship with us, because HE created us. He cares about the smallest detail—right down to our homeschooling and our marriages.

If you’ve experienced the healing power and forgiveness of Jesus, then you’ve got something to celebrate, no matter what life throws at you.  Even those two-year-old tempter tantrums become an exercise in grace, when we remember that God is present. It means that you can see your children through the eyes of grace.

Because once we’ve been forgiven—we forgive.

You’ve got a reason to to lace up your running shoes and run the race that’s been set before you today with endurance. Why? Because God’s running with you. He’s the best running partner ever. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. That means that before we take on someone else’s expectation today, we need to ask the Lord what His expectation is. Are you listening, busy mom?

God is.

Many of you know me as “The Busy Homeschool Mom.”A few of you have heard me speak, heard me on the radio or read one of my books. Most people know that my husband and I have seven children ages 2-21, and that we’ve been married for about twenty-four years. And you probably know that I like to laugh.

What you may NOT know about me is that I used to be 100% against homeschooling. Yep.  You read it right. I was the mom that all the homeschool moms I knew ran from.  I just didn’t get homeschoolers.  After all, WHY would anyone want to stay home all day with their kids when they could have the luxury of dropping them off at school and giving the job of educating them to someone else?  (in my best Grinch voice, “Why, why , why, WHY?”)

I just didn’t get it.

The UNIFORM, circa 1993

Besides.  I didn’t have the uniform.  The dreaded “denim jumper” which was being worn by almost every homeschool mom I knew at the time made me wonder if homeschoolers were part of a cult rather than a movement.  A girl needs to consider these things!  I mean, I like jumpers but I really like my jeans.  What was the point of the uniform? I figured it must have something to do with identifying other homeschoolers. No one at the small private school where we had enrolled our first child was really sure.

Truthfully, I felt judged by all those jumper-wearing homeschool moms who, I was told, were making their own jumpers and growing their own wheat while I was buying Wonder Bread on sale and following (dare I say it?) a fashion trend or two now and again.

I felt guilty every time I ran into a homeschool mom at church. I did my best to avoid the topic of education. After all, we had sent our first child to *gasp* PRESCHOOL, and I knew for a fact that this wasn’t going over well in the homeschool mom’s coffee club.

I did have a few friends who were homeschooling. So I did what any good friend would do: I tried my best to help these poor, tired moms “see the light.”  I invited them to plays and open house night at my daughter’s school. I was sure to talk about how great it was to drop Savannah off at school and spend “quality time” with her little sister.  I even went so far as to take their children to “bring a friend to school day” at the school.  Looking back, I’m a *teensy bit* embarrassed by my behavior. These homeschool moms, bless them, were patient with me.  Never once did one of them tell me to take a hike; and heaven knows, I had it coming.

Of course, I had my own doubts about having our daughter in school. I noticed that because of my husband’s job, he was missing our daughter during most of her waking hours. When he had a few free hours, she was in school. When he came home, she was in bed.  I also noticed that the attitudes of the siblings toward each other were hindered during the school week; I felt as if I was having to “overcorrect” because of the attitudes and actions that Savannah came home with after school.  There were conversations Savannah had with older students on the playground that I would have PAID to have wait another ten years, too.

In the mid 90′s, we ended up in the small town of Wilsonville, Oregon. We enrolled her in a small public school in the little town of Canby. I loved her 2nd grade teacher. The schoolbus came right to our door every morning at 7:30. I thought I had it pretty good.

Meanwhile, Sierra, who was eager to join her big sister, wanted to go to Kindergarten. Trouble was, she missed the age cutoff by a week.  A week!  I decided to console Sierra by telling her I would teach her some things at home. This seemed to do the trick so I set about trying to find workbooks and other materials in order to give her something like “school” to do at home.

I avoided using the word homeschool.  I avoided it like the plague.

But even though I was avoiding it, God was working. God has a way of bringing us around to His way of thinking.

I soon discovered that there was a homeschool supply store about 45 minutes from our house. I decided to “casually” go and check it out. When I arrived, I was overwhelmed by the amount of materials and wonderful books available to homeschooling families.  I asked the store owner what he would suggest for a “non-homeschooler” like me.  He graciously pointed out a few of the curriculum choices. He asked what I wanted to accomplish with Sierra.  I said I just wanted to help her get ready for “real” school.  Then I ducked. But he didn’t flinch. I suspected he had spoken to my kind before.

I left the store with a copy of “Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons” and a math workbook.  I must admit, I was secretly excited to try my hand at teaching Sierra to read.  I had no clue where to start the process, so having a book that gave step by step instructions was just what I needed.

It took about a week of teaching Sierra at home for me to begin to see that I had been totally wrong about homeschooling. All these years I thought homeschooling was about chains, but I was finding freedom instead!  Freedom in the way we did school, freedom in when we did school!  Even the school bus taking our daughter to and from school could not compete with the amount of time I was saving by schooling at home.

My relationships with my children began to be filled with a new sense of purpose as well; I loved seeing Sierra’s eyes light up when she understood a concept for the first time. Knowing that I was able to teach her made it even better. Before too long, we had vowel charts up in the kitchen and posters of the Presidents adorned the walls of the nook where we sat to read. I had to admit:  I was an accidental homeschooler. And I didn’t care who knew it.

I could go on and on about how the Lord softened my heart and drew Jay and me closer together in the process of deciding to pull Savannah out of public school. But that’s another post.  I could tell you about the richness that our family has experienced through homeschooling that we never even thought was possible—but that too, is another post.

I could also tell you that homeschooling is stinkin’ hard.  But boy, is it worth it.  And nothing in this life that’s worth doing, I have discovered, is ever easy.

Homeschooling is not for everyone. But I believe that there are more moms out there like me than not. Maybe you’re watching a homeschool mom right now, wondering what craziness came over her that she would choose to stay home with her children when someone else would take them off her hands for the day.  Well, I’m here to tell you, you’re right. It’s crazy. it’s at least seventeen different kinds of crazy.  Crazy good. Crazy hard. Crazy crazy. Crazy adventure. Crazy amazing.

Turns out homeschooling is not about denim jumpers.  There are no uniforms.  It is as hard as I thought it might be … maybe even more, some days.

And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Broken. It’s the word I use the most when people ask me who I am.

Broken.

I’m a mess, really.  Memories linger, but with little time to process them. Laundry abounds. Dinner calls. I’m often short-tempered. I’m often frustrated by things that carry no eternal significance.

I often forget how truly blessed I am. 

The Liar is tricky. He whispers “What do you have to offer? Look how broken you are.”  And yes I am. I must confess. I often have more questions than answers.

I wonder. Will my children be broken like I am broken? In my heart I know they will.  Because, really, we’re all broken. That’s why we need a Savior. We do the best we can, in our brokenness. I have found myself crying out to God as I carry the weight of the “what ifs” in life … and I must daily learn (again) to yield to God what I cannot control.

I make the mistake of scanning Facebook. More things that remind me. We.Are.Broken.  I try not to feel overwhelmed. There is much to do. Much that my heart aches for in this broken world.

In my brokenness, I’m learning to see something beautiful. I’m learning that being broken is its own kind of beautiful. Being broken means that I don’t have to struggle with the pain of perfectionism (although I still sometimes do.)

Being broken provides a freedom all it’s own—because there can be no glass houses for broken people. No need to compare brokenness. After all, we are all broken the same. Different kinds of broken—but still broken.

Being broken means I am in need of constant repair—and so I find myself at the feet of the One who heals—again.

There is strength there.

My husband touches my hand. He tells me (again) me how cherished I am.

He reminds me that our children will learn from our brokenness. I love this strong, gentle man. He is a gift. Part of my healing. He tempers me.

I need that.     … You too?

Broken people carry a beauty all their own. And broken people who know they have been redeemed—bought with a price—are radiant with a light that transcends the pain of this life.

Very little in this life compares to the beauty the comes from brokenness.  The beauty that comes from ashes —is available to me. And you.

As the news plays in the background, and the weight of this life threatens to overwhelm, I claim the gift of brokenness. I claim it to find healing, and peace. I claim it for the one thing I cannot find without being broken. I claim it for grace. I claim it today, again.

Grace.

Grace in my brokenness — healing.

Praise the Lord.

Organic/non-organic, 

dresses/pants, 

unschooling/school-at-home, 

dating/courting, married/single, 

big family/small family … on and on it goes. 

Let’s not be divided over things that do not have eternal significance. 

…the greatest of these is LOVE. ♥

~Heidi St. John

Tow truck takes our old RV away

God has a wonderful way of shepherding His kids.

I have come to believe that He loves to put His unique fingerprint on certain times in our lives just so that we remember it’s really all about Him.

For those of you who are new to our ministry and family blog, I’ll do a quick recap: In 2009, we took the RV that you see here on a road trip across the United States.  Our purpose was to encourage homeschool co-ops and to speak to parents and pastors about homeschooling.

We traveled from WA to VA and home again, and we saw God show Himself faithful in every circumstance we found ourselves in. From protection during a robbery in New Orleans to a miraculous connection in Williamsburg, Virginia, God made His presence known to us.

That little RV went through a lot too. When we were 30 miles away from home, the transmission on the RV gave out. *poof*.

Kaput.

Fini.

Done.

That was the last time we drove it.  Friends drove up and helped us unpack it at a rest area near Longview, WA. Since that August afternoon, our little RV has been sitting in a parking lot waiting for it’s next adventure.

On Tuesday, we felt the Lord was telling us it was time to list the RV for sale, and so we put it up on Craigslist. Itsold within 10 minutes. Thursday,  just hours before we left on our new road trip, the towtruck came and towed it out of our driveway. It was as if we were ushering out the old and the Lord was saying “Ready, set, GO” for this new adventure.

If you follow our journey, you’ve heard the “One Hundred Dollar Bill” story.

You’ll never guess how the new owner felt led to pay for the RV.

33 One Hundred Dollar Bills.

Here we go again.

8 yr old Summer’s RV picture

Good Evening from Nampa, Idaho – and welcome to the launch of The Busy Homeschool Mom’s Blog!  I have been looking forward to this for some time and I’m excited to get writing!

I am on Facebook posting updates as most of you know, but during the summer months, when we’re traveling and speaking the most, this blog will serve to update everyone about what God is doing as we travel from coast to coast encouraging homeschoolers and planting new homeschool ministries in churches!  It’s also gonna be a place where we share a window into our life on the road as well- what it’s like to live in an RV with 9 people the good, the bad and the downright ugly!  I hope you’ll laugh along with us, too.

People often ask us how we “do” this traveling thing.  Pretty much -  it’s the Lord.  We teach workshops everywhere we go (you can find a list of them here) which is a great way for us to connect with homeschooling families and it helps us have a very good idea of what homeschooling moms and dads are facing in different parts of the US.

It’s not always easy, either. For those of you who followed our last trip in 2009, you know that God was with us every step of the way, even in the dark places (like New Orleans – where we were robbed in broad daylight.)  We covet and need your prayers as the spiritual warfare around this ministry is as intense and exhausting as any ministry we’ve ever been privileged to be part of.  We love ministering to the homeschool community and feel grateful to be doing something we are so passionate about.

God Delights in Blessing His Children

Jay and Ken putting the finishing touches on the entryway

I gotta start by saying that God has provided in AMAZING ways already to help make this trip possible. We found an RV at an incredible price on Craigslist – got ourselves a 35K RV for 15K and a donation came in that paid for it!  The RV needed some updating and repair – so we’ve spent the last two monnths working on it with our friend, Ken. Ken and Jay have transformed this RV.  I can’t wait to post pictures of before/after.  They ripped out carpet and replaced almost all the flooring, built a dinette (yes, built) that converts to a bed, found new (to us) furniture, fixed all the little things most of us take for granted and basically made this older RV look like new again. We’re so thankful for everyone who has been helping in the past two months!

Did I mention that I love being married to a handyman?  Jay is the handiest man I know. 

We also have some really wonderful sponsors who believe in what First Class Homeschool Ministries is doing to encourage homeschooling families.  Please do us a huge favor and check them out – let them know that First Class sent you their way.    They are:  Apologia, HSLDA, Institute for Excellence in Writing, Multnomah University and The Old Schoolhouse Magazine. FCHM is a support-driven ministry, meaning, we raise financial support like other missionaries.  Many wonderful parents who have also supported this trip financially so that we can travel and speak about the value and blessing of Christian homeschooling from coast to coast.

Thank you!!

I will write more about what we’re doing “exactly” at these homeschool workshops in the next post or two.  Keep looking, as I’ll  detail the awesome giveaways from our sponsors and tell you how you can request a workshop stop!  Or, you can just go to FCHM.org and look on the left side of the page for the tab that says “2011 Roadtrip”.  There is a ton of info there.

Yesterday… (well actually, Thursday-Tuesday May 30th)

Saylor, Savannah, Marcy and Sierra just before we left Washington. We think Marcy earned her badge!

We were literally working until after midnight every night putting the finishing touches on the RV.  My friend Marcy helped for two long days as we packed, organized.  She also did a great job of keeping me from feeling too overwhelmed … little details are NOT my thing.  I’m a vision girl!  I dream big! I love wide swaths of visionary dreaming!!!  But!  Packing for 9 people for essentially three months is a very very detailed process.  It’s not really my thing.  I can do it – but it’s not where I’m flourishing if you know what I mean.  So having Marcy there to keep me moving and check things off the list was a huge help.

I do have some super great tips for organizing that I’ll share as we go along.  Many of them are from the last trip – some things worked and other things flopped so this time, we had the advantage of perspective and experience on our side! 

Currently…

We drove from our home to Pendelton, Oregon last night and to Nampa, Idaho today.  We spent our first night in the RV in a Walmart parking lot in Pendelton.  Let me just say. Wow. I love staying in Walmart parking lots, really.  But, wow.  There was an arrest happening as we pulled in – just another quiet night at Walmart .

We arrived in Boise this afternoon, got to share taco soup with my Best Friend from Kindergarten, *happy me*  and now, we’re settling in at a hotel and praying for a good night’s sleep. Steve and Jane have flown into Boise from Kansas City to do a Real Life Marriage: Homeschool Edition retreat for homeschooling families in the Nampa/Boise/Bend area.  It starts tomorrow (Thursday).  We’ll be sure to post pictures – because right after that, we are keynote speakers at CHOIS, the Idaho State homeschool convention.

It’s a busy weekend and we’re excited to see what God will do. Please remember us in your prayers – we speak all day Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

FAQ’S

What are the kids doing while you’re speaking?

What I see first thing in the morning

Great question!  The little ones are going to hang to with my very best friend from childhood, Annette and her four daughters.  They are excited about that. The big kids will be helping us at the convention in the booth.  The baby (Saylor) hangs with the big kids and her mommy.  She is so popular, she hardly gets a moment to herself!

What is your schedule (briefly)?

It’s on our website but here’s the jist:

• June 1-4 Idaho (Real Life Marriage Retreat & CHOIS Convention)
• June 8 – Colorado Springs, in the studio at Family Talk with Dr. James Dobson
• June 9-17 – workshops along the road to Kansas City, MO
• June 17-19 CHECC convention in Denver, CO
• June 21 – Traveling back home to the NW to speak at the OCEAN conference in Portland, OR
• July 8 – Speaking at First Baptist in Eugene, OR
• July 9 – September 6 Speaking from CA to VA. More details to come

We can be reached via facebook (first class homeschool ministries, The Busy Homeschool Mom and all our family pages) and this blog while we’re on the road ~ We’d love to hear from you.

Blessings from Boise!

Heidi