I watched him open his book and point to some writing. I saw his expression as he looked at it, and I listened as he talked about his day.
We had the boys enrolled in a hybrid school. They went to school two days a week and were homeschooled the other days. We had been excited about this school model since the twins had been toddlers. We were delighted when we had other close friends apply with us, and we were elated as all our kids got accepted their kindergarten year. We met new friends that first year and loved every family we met. We loved the teachers. The whole school community was amazing.
So it hurt when I saw this door closing. It’s always hard when God shuts doors to good things. It came fast. We didn’t even make it through the first quarter of the second year before we realized our polar opposite twins needed the flexibility of complete homeschool. Everett was doing work beneath his ability while Emmett was being dragged through the material too quickly.
Everett’s knowledge base is like his dad’s. Many times as they talk about Greek mythology vs. Roman mythology or about how our founding fathers differed in their belief systems and philosophy of life. I just stand there gaping, “How do you even know that?” While Emmett is always working. Always building something. Teaching something to others. You can have a conversation with him and feel like you’re talking with another adult. Both boys are intelligent but have very different talents and abilities.
As a former teacher, I know the classroom side of the struggle. Classroom teachers have to keep median pace. Many times it all levels out in the end, but I could see that this school model and pace just wasn’t working for us.
And on an October day last fall as we sat on the mudroom steps, Emmett pointed to a note from his teacher. He was mortified that he couldn’t keep up in class and that she had jotted a note about reworking some sentences.
I deliberated. I want my kids to be challenged and develop character. I don’t want to swoop in every time discomfort comes and rob them of life lessons. I had been trying to allow him to grow and mature in this struggle. I toyed with the thought of continuing tough love and pushing him through this grade.
But something stopped me. He had drawn sad faces beside her note. This wasn’t the first time he had drawn sad faces on his work. He told me that he hadn’t eaten snack that day. This wasn’t the first time he had skipped snack. He was internalizing his struggle and feeling defeated. And that’s when I knew we had to make a change.
I felt peace that God was closing this door, so I didn’t fight it. There was relief for I knew it had to happen but also sadness over us deviating from the path we had started.
And oh how I prayed. This had been our plan. It had worked out perfectly, and we had so many friends. And oh how very much I dislike change. It’s hard to understand sometimes when God shuts doors to good things.
But God. BUT GOD! I love that phrase. He was working in the midst of it all, and He had a plan. He knew.
Since our change in school situation, I have realized Emmett’s struggle was much deeper and needed more than just me telling him he’s an amazing kid and pushing him through school. He needed a foundation of truth.
And so, Emmett and I talked about how his worth doesn’t come from what he thinks about himself or what others think about him. We talked about how his worth isn’t determined by how smart he is or his ability to keep pace with others. We discussed how he doesn’t have to earn worth. God thought the world needed an Emmett, and he has inherent worth that comes from his Creator. God delights in him and has a purpose for his life.
As we slowed down, we were able to have these conversations. And I saw Emmett begin opening back up. He said, “Mom, you know when I told you I didn’t eat snack because I didn’t have time? Well, I did have time. I just wasn’t eating because I was so upset.”
As we both have sat unrushed at the kitchen table with school books between us, we have done heart work. Sure, we are working on math and English, but we are also working on attitudes and character. It isn’t always peaceful. We don’t always get it right. But there is peace that God has led us here.
Miracles… I know this story in the series seems to come out of nowhere. Except, exactly one and a half weeks after pulling the twins from school, we got the phone call about Mila. We thought we were at least 9 months away from the possibility of receiving a file. We hadn’t even completed all the international paperwork. But God. He knew.
The flexibility of complete homeschool during this adoption season has been absolutely necessary. The school we had pulled the boys from has a running joke about Wednesdays. It’s the day that so much work gets piled on because it’s due the next day. The school even made green t-shirts one year that said “I survived Wednesdays.”
And you know what day we first learned about Mila? Wednesday. You know the day we had our weekly video call with Mila? Every Wednesday. Guess what day our pre-encuentro meeting was planned for? Wednesday. But God. He knew.
Looking back… we only spent a little over a year at that school, but that short time was a part of God’s plan too. Our community of friends from that school have rallied around us. Some are incredible resources for Mila’s diagnosis and have given materials and support. Another is the Colombian friend who I shared about in a previous post. And our close friends who we knew before school ever started have leaned in close in support. Their little girls have secured or packed up some of their own toys to give as gifts to Mila. All on their own. Mila’s room is decorated in their toys and these little girls already look forward to being friends with Mila. But God. He knew.
My next post in this series is my favorite! I share how God miraculously confirmed that Mila is the child He had called us to adopt.
Photo: Sweet gifts given to Mila from our friends’ daughters
stillsmallfaith.com 