The Accountability Trap

My little family is in a heavy season of life right now.  And so, I'm often pondering heavy thoughts.  Sometimes I feel bad that all I ever write about is heavy stuff, and not those cute anecdotes about the children's escapades or fun stories from our adventures out in the great wide world.  But, this is where we are, and these are the words coming out of my head, and there will be a season for lightheartedness again.

Recently, I've been musing about the Golden Rule from Matthew 7:12, "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."  It's been one of those seasons in life when every basic truth I've ever known suddenly comes alive, and suddenly I get it!  You know?  It's not like it was ever hard to understand; it always made sense in my head.  But now when my heart, soul, spirit, emotions, and every dimension or layer of my being understands what my mind always did, the truth comes to life and revives the soul! 

The Golden Rule is golden for good reason.  It's a good way to live our lives and to test our actions, and no one would contest it.  But, it kind of seems like we're inconsistent in our use of it.  What I mean is: when we are giving advice to others or confronting someone who's offended us, we are quick to claim the Golden Rule in our defense.  Yet when the tables are turned--when we have been offended, or when we notice a failure in another--suddenly the Golden Rule becomes mere brass dulled against the glimmering responsibility of Accountability.

Keeping each other accountable is good and right and beneficial.  Our human natures are cunning, and we are so good at lying to ourselves if the end result is pleasurable; Accountability keeps us honest with ourselves and with each other.

BUT.

It is my opinion that the Church (not intended to be all-inclusive) has gotten all bent out of shape on the subject of Accountability and is in need of a serious adjustment.  Instead of a beautiful exercise in trust, grace, and forgiveness, Accountability has become a Bible-mandated permission slip for treating those with whom we don't agree with judgement, hostility, legalism, and a controlling spirit. 

In many (dare I say most?) Christian circles, if someone is found to be guilty of an action that is either truly sinful or merely deemed sinful (by tradition or interpretation), what happens can be one, some or all of the following:
- The "non-offenders" expose the guilt of the offender, often publicly, and preach eloquently about how far the offender has missed the mark; shame is a choice weapon.
- The offender, if repentant, is subjected to "penance" activities as a means of reforming his/her behavior (heart??).
- The offender, if not repentant, is chastised more harshly with shame-preaching, and if he/she remains unrepentant is cut off from the community of believers (ie, excommunicated).
- Somehow...name-calling becomes okay, grace is no longer required, the lost sheep are pushed out of the fold rather than drawn in...all in the name of Love and Accountability.

Because if we don't save their lost souls, then who will?

Hmm...I can think of one Name.

I get that the intent may be one of love, but I also think our human natures are more naturally drawn to justice, and our cunning hearts convince us that justice (judgement) is love.  Such a theme could not be more un-Biblical. 

So, what's wrong with this Accountability picture?
- We're forgetting that we are all sinners, and that every single sin is defiance toward God and deserving of death, even if it is acceptable in our culture (yes, even in the church culture).
- We fail to realize that behavior does not always reflect what's in the heart.  Are we more concerned about people acting and looking right, or having hearts transformed by Christ?
- We become arrogant and put too much stock in ourselves and forget that it's not our job to save people!  God has given us one job: Love.  Love God and love people.  Period.  Part of loving is bearing with each other, forgiving whatever grievances we have with one another, long-suffering, not judging, doing unto others as we'd have them do unto us...

I've found it helpful for myself, when faced with a decision on how to respond to an erring neighbor, to ask myself questions about how I would want to be treated in a similar situation:
- When I fail, do I want others to publicly (or even privately) point out my failures and shame me?  Or do I want them to gently take me aside and say, "Hey, I see that you're struggling, I'm here for you"?
- When I fail, do I want others to preach Scripture at me like a verbal lashing?  Or do I want them to gently remind me of God's grace and forgiveness and His strength to help me through?
- When I fail, do I want to be cut off from the community until I acceptably change my ways?  Or do I want to be brought in, accepted, supported, and helped?
- When I fail, do I want to be treated with disrespect, to be judged and branded by what I do wrong, or treated as a person of value who struggles with sin (like every other person on the planet and in history) and be extended grace?
- When I fail, do I want to be lashed, or come alongside and helped?

I've noticed in my own experience, when I am wrong and stuck in sinful behavior, what really gets my attention and pierces my heart with repentance...is grace.  When people point out my flaws, preach Scripture at me, offer advice for how to fix myself and my problems, or in any way judge me and place themselves superior to me, the response in my heart is always the same: defensiveness, further hardening of heart, despising everything they say (even if I normally agree with it), developing pride and self-sufficiency, withdrawing into myself to not need or depend on anyone, and the list goes on. 

But when I am wrong and stuck in sinful behavior, and someone comes to me and extends grace, loves me, encourages me, gives me hope, reminds me of Jesus' unfailing love, gets down on my level and helps me up...the kindness heaps burning coals on my head and I fall to my knees in deep repentance, despising my sin instead of the person who pointed it out, with whole-hearted motivation to change. I mean, really, most of the time we're all acutely aware of our shortcomings.  What we need is not a finger pointing but a helping hand.

Any soldier will tell you, if a comrade falls in battle, he isn't shamed and left to die--he is helped and treated with honor!  Believers, we are in this together.  Our enemy is not each other. 

Quagmire (warning: it's heavy)

Facing giants is scary.

It makes you want to run away.  Especially when those giants are in the mirror. 

Lately, my giants are those seem-nice-on-the-outside-but-nasty-on-the-inside types, like Comparison, Entitlement, and Expectation.

It's hard not to compare.  It's easy to feel entitled.  It seems only natural to hold expectations about life and the people around us.  But those ingredients mix up an enticing cocktail named Despair. 

Comparing is always such a big temptation.  Comparing my personality and presence; comparing my possessions; comparing my place in life; comparing my spiritual progress; comparing my kids and husband and their behaviors and accomplishments...I'm not sure what the lure is, if I think comparing will make me more content, or if trying to be like everyone else will make me happier, or if I'll gain respect by outwardly having it all "more together" than everyone else, or if I'll learn some grand life lesson that will change me forever...?

None of that really happens.  We all know that.  What does happen when I compare me and mine to others is that I begin to question my value as a person (because I'm not like so-and-so), I begin to question the value of my husband and children (because they don't behave or accomplish like such-and-such), I bury myself with unrealistic demands to make my life appear (or legitimately BE) more perfectly put together, I attempt to control those around me to fit into my grand plan of a perfect life, and I bulldoze any who color outside the lines I've drawn. Because my lines are obviously the right lines; the lines anyone else might draw (in my self-absorbed bubble) are irritating scribbles that impede the proper flow of life. 

It's stifling.  Comparisons stifle the beautiful creativity and individuality of each person, and of our communities as a whole.  Differences among us are beautiful and necessary...how would the body function if all parts were the same?  How would we ever discover new great ideas if we all thought the same?  How, even, could we enjoy God's vastness if we all thought in the same dimension?

But I try and I try and I try and I try to be like those I hold as the standard, usually without even realizing that's what I'm doing or the futility of my endeavor, trying to create peace through the process of chaos...

It will never work. 

And failure after failure, discouragement leads to frustration, and frustration leads to hopelessness, and hopelessness leads to despair, and despair leads to anger and--perhaps more dangerous--a sense of self-entitlement.

I see a sea of people who own homes and have steady jobs and whose kids get to live in one place and keep their friends year after year, people who have stability, connections, friends, the recipe of things I consider to make up "real" life...and after the wishful longing wears thin, entitlement sets in: Wait.  Why are they better than me?  Why does everyone else get everything good in life while I struggle?  I deserve everything everyone else has!  I deserve to have everything I want!  I deserve to be happy!  It's the American way, after all--I have rights!

Do I? 

Here also Expectation rears its ugly head, because my rights to happiness include a long laundry list of expectations for life and for myself and for those people who surround me, mostly encompassing things to have and how to be.  It is a carefully crafted list, tediously created (of course not consciously!!) over a lifetime, and always amending, but is a harsh taskmaster and demands every last (impossible) requirement be met before handing over the precious reward of happiness.

And because I can't control my life situation and cannot claim that dangling carrot for myself, I do the only last thing I can do...Blame everyone around me for their part in my misery...and ultimately, blame God.  Why does God bless everyone else with good things except me?  Why doesn't God love me??

Then in the seeming injustice of it all, I let myself become angry, and the comparisons become judgmental.  The deception is that anger is always loud and eruptive.  Anger can come in quiet shades, also, in the forms of a critical spirit, an ungrateful heart, a selfish sense of entitlement, hostility toward others' needs, a tendency to invalidate anyone else's opinions, an inability to accept fault yet noticing everyone else's, always looking on the negative side of life...the shades are endless.

These chaotic feelings of want and devastation and anger often lead me to try to control people or things around me--anything I can.  Husband and children are easy targets, but it doesn't end there.  I attempt to control my household by keeping unrealistic standards of cleanliness and organization.  I might fall into shopping addiction by the lure of controlling what I am able to buy.  I might even fall into spirituality addiction, because I can control how "good" I am in measurable ways that no one can judge. 

These bottom-of-the-barrel times are hard, but they're also the times God's commands really make sense and feel less like stiff demands and more like cool water reviving a parched soul...

God says, "Do not covet."  Coveting is basically comparing yourself, and wanting what others have.

God says, "Forgive and forget."  Not, "Forgive, and then fix...everything that's wrong with them!"  I tend to get so emotionally complicated when there's been an offense, especially in my marriage.  I feel like I need to parse the issue, cut it apart and lay it open and assign responsibility to every last bit...I'm not saying it's not good to talk about things, but there does come a point when it does more harm than good.  So, just forgive.  Then forget about it.  Then love the offender like they deserve it!  Because they do, because God created them just as fearfully and wonderfully as he made me.  It's God's job to save people, after all, not mine.

God says, "Be joyful always...give thanks in everything."  You wanna know the surest way to punch these giants in the face?  Gratitude.  Comparison, Expectation, Entitlement don't stand a chance against a heart that's truly thankful for the priceless gifts God gives every day. 

And when you really think--past all those selfish longings--we are all, even the most-worst-off ones of us!--deeply, deeply blessed.  If we have life, we have unspeakable treasure--life is the most intimate and undeniable love beckoning of God to us!  And if we have shelter, food, clothing, health, family, friends...we are blessed. 

I am learning to lay everything else down and simply love as Christ loves us.  Unconditionally.  No strings attached.  Selflessly.  Forgiving so much for the same offenses that it seems OCD.  Without comparison, without expectation.  It's hard.  Good thing I don't have to do it by myself!

Goodbye House

The time has come; we are finally moving on from "The House of Bad Dreams" (as Jack so eloquently calls this place).  The kids don't seem at all sad, as they waved goodbye forever with a joyful "Hurray!"  Once again, we find ourselves moving forward into the Great Unknown.  And so, without further ado:

Goodbye house with the big red room.

Goodbye bats with your flights of doom.

Goodbye crooked floors with your bounces and squeaks.

Goodbye mice with your drawer-dropped treats.

Goodbye little ants, with your armies amassed.

Goodbye termites who'll have the last laugh.

Goodbye millipedes, crunching under our feet.

Goodbye mold--we will not see defeat!

Goodbye spiders and your webs that anoint.

Goodbye breezes through the walls and the joints.

Goodbye insulation that didn't exist.

Goodbye to the problems the landlords won't fix.

Goodbye ancient carpet with so many stories to tell.

Goodbye ugly paint that makes eyeballs swell.

Goodbye creepy butcher shop down below.

Goodbye garage door that was too low.

Goodbye cupboard drawers raining sawdust flakes down.

Goodbye ancient oven and stove top in brown.

Goodbye tiny bathroom with leaks all around.

Goodbye lost toys which will never be found.

Goodbye house, with all your bad dreams. 

Your walls hold our memories; in this you're redeemed.

The Best Gift of All

It was kind of a special day today.  More than kind of…it was a really special day today.  Beyond it being my birthday, beyond the kind wishes and loving words and cards and cakes and dinners (which were all amazing and very special)…In my heart the day was marbled with times of quiet contemplation, and moments of deep fulfillment, and feelings of humble sadness that are always resisted and labeled as BAD on days such as one’s birthday.  But it was beautiful, because it was real, and it was the work of God, and in it all there was genuine peace, and more than that—gratitude. 

Every birthday as far back as I can remember has been plagued by deep, dark, agonizing, relentless depression, covered over by a mask of smiles and expected happiness.  Expectations arising out of a yearning to be special wreaked havoc on my soul…they were never met, never could be met, and each devastation piled burden after burden on my heart and sent me hurling into the abyss of perceived worthlessness…Until at some point, there just was plopped on my heart’s doorstep The Annual Birthday Depression for no particular reason at all.  It just came like clockwork, year after year, for no reason at all.  And each year it brought with it The Menace of bigger and grander expectations.  As I have discovered, the bigger the expectation, the bigger the devastation. But all of this carries a host of baggage that cyber space doesn’t need to know…and the point is:

The Menace was gone this year.  There was nothing I did differently, no special prayers or penance or exercises in optimism.  Definitely no illusions of personal holiness. 

But that humble sadness…that breaking of my heart in a way that makes it whole again…that sorrow that visits in the form of calm and peace, not in selfish anger, and leaves the soul feeling renewed and refreshed…That repentance.  Nothing happened to make me feel sad; there was no blinding awareness of sin to confess (other than the usual which I am faced with daily!)…It did not come as a verb to be acted upon, but as a state of being, as a gift.  And it brought with it the realization that I am nothing, while God is Everything, and he can fill my nothing with his everything.

Birthdays used to mean to me a sacred 24-hour period in which I could expect—and be justified in expecting—the world to revolve around me, to demand whatever I wanted, to indulge in whatever pleased me, and in essence, bask in selfishness while others tried in vain to meet the bar of my expectations.  Of course, that’s not how I thought about it in my mind, but that is the reality of it.  Reality is ugly.  And I’m okay admitting it because I’m understanding more and more that my “goodness” as a person doesn’t emanate from my own goodness, but from Christ’s.  And admitting that I struggle doesn’t reveal shocking weakness or failure, but a basic human struggle with sin that affects us all, and which Christ came to rescue us from!  “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

And so my most precious gift today from my most Beloved—the Redeemer of my soul—was a gift of healing and freedom from selfish expectation.  It was beautiful to be truly thankful for the gifts I’ve already been given—the breath of life, grace and forgiveness, precious people in my life to love, and endless blessings in every direction.  It was amazingly freeing to enjoy every little thing that was said and done for me today without constantly measuring it up to some made-up bar, or comparing it to how others are treated better.  When expectations don’t exist, everything is special.

I’m not sure how it happened, and I’m not sure why.  Which is how I know that it was truly a gift: A gift of repentance and gratitude to gently lead my soul into peace.  There was nothing I did but accept grace.

Even the skies proclaimed the glory of God, and concluded this day in my most favorite way.

Fall-time Fun

We've been enjoying the beautiful fall weather!

Picnics and reading under the great Oak on a balmy late-September day...

Soaking in the enrapturing beauty of nature with hikes in the Adirondacks...

Getting one last dose of beach and boat...

Taking in the Fall Festivities...
 

And playing in the warm October rain...

How about you?

An Unexpected Heart Birthday

What started as another mundane, slightly-frustrating day in which circumstances out of our control have dissolved any effort to accomplish The Daily Schedule...

...and I get around to making a makeshift, less-than-healthy lunch much too late in the day...

...and I sit there feeling defeated, yet determined to make good use of the remaining day, while the children chatter over marshmallowy hot chocolate and greasy grilled cheese...

And as I wonder how I'm going to redeem this day--Suddenly, Divine Grace swoops in, through the mouth and heart of a 2-year-old, and I don't have to do anything, because God redeems it...

And along with it--most importantly--two tender little hearts.

It all started when, over lunch, Safita (2 years 9 months) brought up the subject of heaven.  This topic is one of her favorites and she talks about it all the time.  This precious girl already has a very deep and meaningful love for Jesus and desperately wants to go to heaven so Jesus can hold her, rock her, and best of all, tickle her!  She asks often when she can go to heaven, and speaks of death (much to my dismay!!!) in positive terms: "When I die, and you die, and Jack dies, and Daddy dies, and Soren dies, we can all go to heaven and see Jesus!!"  We have asked her casually many times if she wants Jesus to be her Savior, and she always is quick and excited to answer, "YESSS!!!!"  Being only 2, though, we never took it much further, because we didn't know if she really understood what it meant (although we did make efforts to explain it)...and conversations would turn too quickly to really pursue it.  

Jack (4 years 9 months), has left us a little confused over the last few months regarding what is going on in his spirit.  He eats up talk about Jesus and the Bible, and loves learning the Bible stories, and has a basic 4-year-old understanding of theology down pretty good, and will occasionally "preach" to the youngers.  However, whenever we happen to be talking about it and ask if he wants to ask Jesus into his heart, he always will say defensively, "He already is!" but can't elaborate on when or how.  Additionally, when we talk about heaven and what it means (always in a positive way), he will get extremely moody and fall into an emotional abyss that lasts the entire day--which, as he communicates, is sadness over having to lose all his toys when he goes to heaven and fear about what it will be like there.  I get it...sometimes eternity is a scary thought for me too.  We've kind of been at a loss for how to respond, so we just comfort him and speak truth to him, and pray that Jesus will comfort his heart with the truth of Who He Is.

And then today, miraculously, heaven came up and there were only positive thoughts!  In the course of talking, I told them how Jesus has promised to come back someday, and will appear in the clouds and blast a trumpet...Safita looked to the sky and called, "Jesus, where are you?  Come on!"  But I was careful to gently remind them that in order to go to heaven, we need to ask Jesus to be our Savior (there were no guilt trips or scare tactics).  So we talked about what that means--what is a Savior? why do we need one? how does it change our hearts and behavior? since it's a covenant, what does God promise and what do we promise? etc.  These types of conversations are always good, but often the kids get easily sidetracked on silly bunny-trails.  It's an important decision, so we never push it, but try to just talk to them about it as far as they are ready.  We just took it a step at a time, and to my surprise, they both stuck right with me and seemed eager to hear everything I told them, responding with wide eyes and eager head-nods.  

So I probed, "Do you want to ask Jesus into your heart to be your Savior?"  Both eagerly said yes.  The response itself was so sincere, and different than other times we have asked the question.  But I wanted to make sure, so I reminded them what it means, and they still said eagerly "Yes!"  I led them in a prayer, sitting on the steps of the red room, stained with greasy fingers and chocolate mouths...and they both said it with conviction and sincerity.

Then we rejoiced with hugs and kisses and--of course--tickles!  And praised God with the whole host of heaven that a new son and daughter of God have been born!

Welcome to the fold, little lambs.

7 Things I Hate About Homeschooling...and A Bunch I Love

We have actually completed a whole week's worth of school!  We made it a whole week.  It's been a bit of a crazy, uncertain, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants experience so far, but just like everything else new in life, we're starting to get a handle on what works and what doesn't.  How to work our lessons into the kids' spontaneous play.  How to work with interests instead of forcing tasks.  I'll state up front, it's probably a good deal my own fault that we're struggling as much as we are, and here's why:

1. I'm not organized.....Honestly, we didn't really plan to homeschool until a week before regular schools started; we put it off because we didn't know when we were moving or where we would be, and still thought we might try to enroll him somewhere when we settled (which we thought would be soon).  When I realized The Time was upon us, I did some frantic research and got myself nice and overwhelmed, and then sat on it for a while because I didn't know what to do with all the information, and wasn't even sure I could pull it off at all.  After the regular schools had been in session for a full week, I figured I had better get my act together, and it's been a bit of a "ready or not, here we come!" kind of week.  Emphasis on the "not."  I'm sure it will be a whole lot easier if I actually get prepared so that I know what we're doing and we can have some structure.     
2. I'm not prepared.....A natural byproduct of being unorganized, I don't have many of the resources I need ready to go.  Each morning can be a bit of a scramble with mad dashes to the printer, or with me trying to think on my feet.  I think I cover my harried, stressed feelings okay, but the main point is that my unpreparedness translates to boredom for the kids.  It could be way more fun, and even spontaneous, if I knew ahead of time which direction we were heading.  
3. I'm not sure what to expect.....I don't have an early education degree and haven't researched it, so I really don't know what is appropriate to expect from a kindergartener in terms of focus, which subjects to study, how much time to spend on each subject, and what he should be able to do with writing, reading, and math, etc.  Reading through several homeschool informational websites has been both helpful and confusing, because some say that for this age you should just read to them in an unstructured setting and have fun, and others say they should be able to read (on their own!) simple words and do basic addition/subtraction before entering kindergarten...and then everything in-between.  I do understand that trying to do too much will burn him out and suffocate his eagerness to learn.  I also fear being solely responsible if he fails to meet basic academic benchmarks on target.  It's extra challenging if I don't know what those benchmarks are. 
4. I was leaning too heavily on free printables.....The existence of free printables is GREAT, no question.  However, you can abuse the value of them if you're not organized (which we've established that I am not); they just become random busywork instead of valuable teaching aids.  Also, the ones I had found were for the kids to color as we learned, which is fun...I thought.  Apparently, the black-and-white pictures and plain lined paper was just striking the kids with Boredom Bug like nothing else!  We went out yesterday and found Jack a brightly colored workbook that includes fun activities in addition to the lined writing, and is organized with a purpose to the activities(!), and we can hardly pry him away from it.  He sneaks off with his book and pencil at every chance he gets, and he begs, "I just want to play school!"  So there's a win.   

Okay, so now that we've covered my downfalls as a teacher, following is my list of frustrations with homeschooling...our flawed system, at least...I'm confidant that there's an easier and better way to do things, but we're still figuring it out!  In the meantime:

1. It takes away my play time with the younger ones.....It kills me when--myself being in the middle of a lesson with Jack--I suggest to Safita that she work on a puzzle, and instantly her spirit perks, her step bounces, her eyes glimmer, and she rushes over energetically with that hopeful, excited twinkle in her eyes...and I realize, she took my suggestion as a much-craved invitation to play together.  And I can't say no to her--shouldn't say no to her!--but I'm in the middle of helping Jack with letters and also can't leave him to fend for himself.  What do you do???  How can you be fully invested in 2 (assuming the baby is asleep, otherwise 3) children at the same time?  I feel like I'm robbing precious time from the younger two, because when Jack was in preschool, I would spend the time he was away with Safita (baby wasn't in the picture yet); it was our special alone time, and she ate it up!  With homeschooling, not only is that special time for the young ones gone, but it's almost like they get more neglected because the older one is getting more attention.  How is this unfortunate situation balanced??!!
2. It forces the younger kids to grow up faster by being immersed in school too young.....I don't think this point is all bad.  There's a part of me that thinks it's amazing and wonderful that my 2-year-old can count to 11 by herself and already knows a lot of the letters, and is perfect with colors and shapes, etc...But, related to the point above, she shouldn't have to be either bound by a schedule or sent off to play by herself for the duration of our school-day.  And the baby...he deserves more than being a fixture on my hip; he deserves intentional interaction and tickles and giggles.  
3. Sometimes, I just want to be Mommy, and not Teacher.....I do love being so intimately involved in my child's education.  I love being so close to the learning process that I can see how he thinks, what excites him, what frustrates him, and watch the delight when he gets something right for the first time!  But there are lots of struggles throughout the learning process, and we all know that it's easier for a child to disrespect his mother than his teacher, and it's just downright confusing when they're one and the same!  For both of us.  I always try to be gracious, but struggle with knowing when to be firm (specifically with having him do things a certain way, like how he holds his pencil or the order in which he writes his letter-lines) without letting school become a time of discipline and negativity.  I also question what's the appropriate amount of praise to give him--as a mother, every new thing he learns is super exciting and I'm as excited as he is!  But I've read there is danger to over-praising a child...which I'm not sure I buy...perhaps in extreme cases: "Look how awesomely you dotted that 'i'!!!!!  That's the most amazing dot I've ever seen in my life!!!!...other than the last 10 you just did...which were equally awesome!!"  Sometimes, I just want to praise his efforts without thinking critically about his work, or address his behavior without fearing that I'll steal his zest for learning.  
4. I don't want my kids to miss out on valuable respectful relationships with other adults.....Seeing Jack develop a deep affection for his preschool teachers was heartwarming; and watching him act respectfully toward them without instruction from me was amazing.  It was refreshing for both of us to have other adults in a position of authority over him with whom he had to interact on a regular basis.  I don't know that I want to lose that.
5. I don't want my kids to miss out on valuable relationships with other kids.....Siblings are the best kind of friends, except when they're not--because it's just too easy act "real" (i.e., without restraint) with those to whom you're closest.  I'm not advocating superficial relations--not at all!  I'm advocating learning social graces that are easier learned with peers who aren't always in your face, pushing your buttons, and who don't know all your secrets.  The art of making friends, keeping friends, surviving in a social arena...it's hard to re-create outside of a school setting.  The social issues that might come up in school will be different than what would come up at home, and will provide invaluable opportunities to train our children in Godliness.  Also, I just want my kids to experience the joy of having good friends!  Just yesterday, while driving in the car, Safita (who is 2) lamented sadly, "I don't have any friends anymore."  Jack kindly tried to comfort her, "Yes, we do!" and listed off some of his friends from preschool with whom she had tagged along on play dates.  She knew better, and protested, "But I don't!"  My heart was absolutely breaking to pieces...It's true, and because we're always moving, there's almost nothing we can do.  But school could help, because kids are there.  
6. It's hard finding the balance between requiring too much or too little.....And once I figure it out with one, the next kid will be different.  This issue also ties in with my comments above about not being familiar with standard expectations for different age groups or even just state requirements--a little research here would go a long way!  This point is a testament to my under-preparedness more than anything.  Still, I simultaneously feel like I'm either pushing too hard or completely missing the mark...or both!  My chants of "It's only Kindergarten...It's only Kindergarten..." are especially helpful during these moments of insecurity.  
7. That nagging sense of utter failure if we can't or don't continue with homeschooling, or if we do it less than "well".....There seems to be an increasing mindset that homeschooling (and/or alternative schooling) is the better way--or at least an increasing number of people who do it.  I am definitely in favor of homeschooling, but I also think the best education for each child depends on many factors, including the schools available and the child's own temperament, wishes, and goals for the future.  There are some goals that simply cannot be achieved through homeschool.  And some that can only be achieved through homeschool.  It just seems that homeschooling--until you figure out how to not care--carries an extra burden of stress upon the parents' abilities to teach.  What if your kids aren't as smart as other kids?  How do you know if they have a learning disorder, or if you have a teaching disorder?  If that stress is fickle, there's still the deeper responsibility that you are in charge of enriching their young minds through a myriad of subjects, of which you have no capacity of being an expert.  As if it isn't enough to be responsible for their physical, nutritional, emotional, and spiritual well-being, you now also must stimulate and inspire them mentally!  It is daunting.  And it's only Kindergarten. 

I've made a pretty good case against homeschooling here, if I do say so myself!  But since that's not my intent, let me end by sharing all the things I love about teaching my kids at home:

1. The excitement of learning, discovering, and exploring with my kids.....Life is a process of learning, and I get as excited (or sometimes even more) as the kids do about the various things we get to learn about.  The added bonus is, their excitement is contagious!  Homeschooling is like an organized fashion of doing things we already wanted to be doing together (quality time!!)--and getting credit for it!  I'm pretty sure kids learn better when they're having fun and interacting with the subject.
2. I get to tailor their education to the things that interest them.....When we have a bat infestation in our house, we can study the benefits and habits of bats for our Science lesson.  When a thunderstorm scares the kids, we can learn about what makes them boom.  Best of all, when we learn in the History book about loom weights and flints used by people long ago, we can run to Daddy in the next room and ask him to show us a real one from his collection of ancient things (if anyone doesn't know, Daddy is an archaeologist).  
3. I get to be intimately involved in what my kids are learning.....That all-too-well-known motherly question, "What did you learn at school today?" I used to think was just conversation fluff.  But now that I'm a mother, I DO actually really care with invested interest what my child learned at school.  The answers aren't always direct or informative, though, and with homeschool--it doesn't matter!  I know exactly what my kids learned because I taught it to them!  The added bonus is that it's also easy to build on certain lessons when life situations arise:  Because I know what we learned, when a perfect life example arises, we can emphasize what we learned.  
4. I love seeing how their minds are working and processing info.....It helps me understand them better in general.
5. It's flexible and allows for life to happen.....I, personally, prefer to have a rigid set schedule for school time--to do it every day at the same time for the same length of time, like a task that we can cross off when we're done.  That type of schedule, however, was not preferred by my 2-year-old and 5-month-old.  So, the other day at the beginning of school time, when Safita looked up at me with her big, beautiful, twinkling brown eyes and asked excitedly, "Can we play store?"  I hesitated, then said, "Yes, let's do it."  And instead of learning on paper, we learned colors, sorting, reading, and counting while we played shopping at the grocery store.  (The kids were none-the-wiser that we were learning while we played!)  It's also nice that spontaneous trips or fun outings are not problematic, because we can either take school with us or just push it off a day. 
6. I'm sure there's a whole lot more, but I don't have the brain capacity to think anymore!  Leave your favorite things about homeschooling in the comments--I'd love to hear them!