The year was 1993.  We had two boys in 4th and 6th grade and a two year old boy.  My husband had gone to a conference. I had planned to go along until our young one got sick. He came home fired up.  Oh joy.  “We’re going to make some changes in our family, hon,” he announced.  “We need to talk.”  Uh-huh.  I’m writing honestly, but I’m ashamed of my attitude and behavior.  I put off the talk as long as possible.  Finally the moment came after the kids were in bed. 

He sat at one end of the table and I at the other.  With passion and concern, he outlined the problems he saw with delegating the government to teach our children.  I listened, refrained from rolling my eyes, and prayed for this awkward conversation to be over.  This was my life he was messing with.  It was all good and well for him to say, “Let’s homeschool” when all the sacrifice was on my end. When he didn’t get much response from me he concluded the first session with these words, “Will you at least pray about it?”  Overjoyed at a way to extricate myself from this discussion, I glibly said “Sure.”

1993 turned into 1994 and gently the Lord convicted me that I had not prayed  about this issue.  “You’re right Lord, I did say I would pray.”  I thought, it can’t hurt to pray.  Hah!  Double hah!  Before I knew what was happening my heart was changing.  My sons came home with stories that chilled me.  What do you mean your friend isn’t allowed to have a New Testament in his desk?  Was he standing on his chair and preaching?  No, just reading it during free time?  I was a room mother for both boys every year they were in school.  But I was soon disabused of the notion that I knew what was going on in their classrooms.

The conference that Curt went to connected us with a new church.  We had been looking for a church with Reformed theology.  And mirabile! there was one in our valley.  We began attending and discovered that 90% of the families homeschooled their kids.  And they were lovely families with engaging, polite, and delightful children. (Oh, these families have become my family and my heart aches with love for them as I write and remember.)  We bonded with them; we were never once criticized for having our kids in public school. Their winsome ways won our hearts. My thoughts flipped from what all my kids would be missing if they homeschooled to what opportunities my children would miss if they were in public school.

Soon I was asking for books, magazines, anything to educate myself.  My husband started to smile as I chirped away, talking constantly about the options, the decisions, the changes.  We were committed.  We let the kids finish that year in school and made our plans for the fall.