Clearly my life is rather consumed by my new identity as "homeschooler." Even my little blog is filled with it - my last several posts have been all things homeschooling. I didn't intend to turn this into a homeschooling blog, but that is what is going on in my life at the moment, so there it is.
Have I mentioned I'm surprised at this turn of events in my life? Oh I have? Yes, I suppose I have said that a time or two. Imagine how often I've said it in real life.
Now that we have actually begun our adventure (two days in and going well so far - not that you can tell much from two days I suppose), my emotions have calmed and I am settling into our new routine. We all are. What I am contemplating now is this lingering sense of, "How did this happen?"
I don't mean to say that I suddenly regret my rather hasty decision to pull my first-grader from public school and homeschool. But I do feel like this hit me out of nowhere (well, not nowhere) and I'm still spinning a little from the shock of it.
It's like this - I was standing at the base of a hill. There's a tunnel that goes right under the hill. It's deep and dark and most people go around. Going around isn't a bad idea. In a lot of ways it is easier and it can work out fine. I always assumed when I got to the hill in my travels, I'd go around and stay out of that strange, dark tunnel. I didn't mind that some people went through the tunnel, I just didn't think it was the right way for me.
Then the tunnel started getting closer and I could see it more clearly. It was still dark. It was still somewhat strange. But it started to look oddly appealing. What's in there? How far does it reach? Some people sprinted toward it, seeming to have always known they would go through. Others got there from a more roundabout route, but were happy to go through nonetheless. Something inside me started to not only be intrigued by the tunnel, but to yearn for it. I fought the feeling for a while, put aside my curiosity and trudged forward on my pre-planned route. But the tunnel seemed to call my name.
Finally, I realized the idea of going through the tunnel wasn't going to go away. It wasn't a flight of fancy or an emotional reaction to some unknown fear. And not only that, there was something deep inside me that seemed to be steering me toward the tunnel. No matter what I did, I couldn't get past it. I couldn't get it out of my head. Deep inside, I felt that I was supposed to go that way.
So I did. I abruptly changed course, altered my plans (ha! plans!) and headed toward the tunnel. I did so hesitantly at first, telling all around me that I was just curious, just checking it out. At the last minute, I dove in, sprinting toward the mouth of the tunnel and plunging myself into its darkness. If I'm going to do it, I may as well do it now.
The tunnel is definitely dark, but I think that once my eyes adjust, I will see fine. It's just that, I'm surprised to be here. This wasn't in my plans. And therein lies the crux of my emotional confusion this week. I didn't plan to be here.
God is guiding me through the tunnel. Making this choice has been a huge act in almost blind obedience to what I feel is the will of God for me right now. I prayed and prayed and prayed and kept getting the same answer. Go through the tunnel. So here I am, muddling my way through, holding out my hand to feel the presence of God guiding me along, all the time saying, "OK Lord, I'm here. I didn't plan this. But I'm here."
Plans. Yeah. What's that saying? How do you make God laugh... tell him your plans.