I don’t have a school room, I have a tiny little dining room.
One day soon, I am going to miss this.
What you might see:
If you look closely, you’ll see a high chair with Cheerios on it. The only way I can keep a baby happy while trying to help with lessons. Just past the high chair is blue marker on the wall. Evidence of Silas’ learning to write. There are carpet stains from endless, daily accidents. Clutter all over my China hutch because it holds everything except dishes. And my sweet little table set that was gifted to Jimmy and I in our first home—rarely ever is it cleared and ready for people to gather around; let alone, eat at. Definitely not Instagram worthy or magazine inspired.
What I see:
A huge blessing that I’ve have three babies to stay home with, raise, and now teach. I see contentment and making-do with what we’ve been given. I see chaos and overwhelm that I am struggling with and learning to overcome. I see a room with history, and family legacy, and evidence of life and good fruit.
It isn’t perfect, but I see a life God has called me to that is more than I’ve ever dreamed or imagined.
He is so good.
