the beauty of the sieve

There is beauty in a sieve, a separator, something that filters the unnecessary from the vital. In dealing with children a sieve saves a mama. Exactly how are we supposed to fit everything in that the world says is required for raising children. Maybe that's the enemy's strategy--'convince them there is so much that must be included in this child rearing that they'll agree that it takes a village to raise a child', then Mama and Daddy lose part of their authority status to others who God did not intend to be primary voices of instruction.

Lately, I have found peace in the sifting. In our schooling this year, I have let go of my determination to finish text books and instead chosen to enlighten these sweet skulls with Unit Studies, marinating in one topic for a few weeks, reading everything we can get our hands on about it. For the younger ones...the Middle Ages, complete with knights, kings, queens, and castles. Starting soon for the older two...the history of our Florida county along with a genealogy of their Papa's family to be wrapped up and presented to him at Christmas. We still do math and there are other courses ongoing for the older two, but textbooks do not reign, they serve us only as we need them. As we read out loud, play lots of games, make lap books, and discuss what we've covered, I realize this is what they need most. This has stimulated their minds. This will stick, whereas so much of the textbook work once given priority simply looked good in the portfolio, but wasn't retained.

Today I saw fruits of sifting out pulp and adhering to the necessary. Nine year old, while reading the biography of Martin Luther started his own list of spelling words for next week. Peasant, squire, medieval, several more...all words from his reading. Words he will remember because they meant something to him...because he's read about them and understands their meaning. Any list of spelling words I can give him would never mean so much and probably would not stay with him long. A year and a half ago, he struggled with reading, now after sifting out the pulp that once wasted valuable time for true learning, he is developing a love for learning. A love for learning is my goal for them because that well never runs dry.

The sifting started later in my homeschooling than I wish, but I'm thankful the One who is not limited by His creations of time, space, or matter can take my late start and produce a harvest that will astound. He is their teacher and mine too.