“You may homeschool, but I couldn’t,” a mom a year tells me. Today was this year’s day.

“That’s what I said. If I hadn’t been called by God, I wouldn’t homeschool.”

The mother on the other side of this conversation stared skeptically.

I am reminded of Moses, when God called him with a burning bush. Moses argued; he didn’t speak well in public. God was persistent, and finally Moses relented.

How closely that rings to my experiences. I was called to homeschool eleven years ago, when my daughter was three. But I argued…

“I can’t homeschool because I can’t teach a child to read. I didn’t study education.

“You still want me to homeschool? I read these books and the authors must be patient, and I’m not. They don’t have strong-minded children. They control their tempers and never yell. Every time they get irritated, probably the whole family bursts into a hymn, sung a capella in four part harmony, with two doing it in sign language or dances on hilltops like the Von Trapps. We’re not like that.

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