Wondering about Worth? (Virtually)

Posted on April 30, 2020 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,
Being quarantined is HARD for someone who loves people!
Being quarantined is HARD for someone who hates to be in the same house with people!
It’s SUPER HARD when those people reside in the same body!

Being quarantined is difficult for someone who doesn’t like a governing body telling them what to do. Being quarantined is frustrating for someone who can’t stand to have their hands tied when they need to be out working, supporting their family. Of course, I haven’t named the sadness of not being able to meet my first grandchild (currently in NICU) or the confusion of nursing home residents who have no visitors or the unique seniors who are robbed of what might have been the best months of their school career. There are many unlisted singles for whom this is a miserable time of “alone” and “fear.” I can’t even imagine how difficult it is for the doctors, nurses, emergency crews and essentials that are on the front lines, risking their lives and their families’ to save others, when quarantining probably sounds pretty good to them!

Yep, it’s a tough time for many.

Yet, being the “non-essential” that I am, (😉), I have found blessings in the separation. For example,

– Without evening activities taking us from each other, we have had home-cooked family dinners every night.

– The grandparents whose safety is the purpose of our quarantine are a blessing to have in our house! This means my kids have learned toilet-flapper changing, trolling-motor fixing, masks-sewing, puzzle-assembling, and more from Grammy and Papa. They even made a step-stool from discarded wood scraps! This down-time with grandparents will be remembered forever by my young teens.

– Without our normal busyness, we have been able to escape to outdoor fun of fishing, campfires, tennis or just opening a long-awaited book outside while we soak in vitamin D! Oh… and naps.

But Life is Not About Alone Time

One of my favorite outcomes so far has been a music video project a couple weeks ago in which the kids and I got involved with church. The “virtual choir” came complete with a “virtual orchestra.” The people with whom I would normally rehearse at church every Wednesday and worship every Sunday got “together,” each in our own homes (or a couple using the church’s instruments), and recorded ourselves for the project.

The participants were frontline doctors, nurses, police and other “essentials,” as well as retired folks, elderly quarantined alone, young teens miserable without their friends, college students on forced furlough and the rest – all individually participating in this project in their free time.

As if learning the song to record alone wasn’t challenging enough for us amateur musicians, we actually had to get the entire house quiet for recording – even the dog! The struggle is real! AND they had to be silent long enough for several run-throughs of bloopers! (See my daughter’s blooper reel below; she was so gracious to allow me to share. We still laugh!) Eventually, we felt like our singing (or playing in my case) was “as good as it’s gonna get” and we submitted the recording to our music director team, who put all of the voices – instrumental and vocal – together for a song. Voila! “The Virtual Choir”.

Surprises of the project

– I was surprised at how AWFUL I sound on my oboe alone on the recordings. The oboe is complete duck-quacking without massive control on my part – which only takes a portion of the duck away. (Have you heard Peter and the Wolf? The oboe is the duck.) So when we add issues with the mic, surroundings and computer, it did NOT seem pretty!

– I was surprised at how AWFUL I look on video. Playing the oboe is a kind of rigorous cardio exercise/abdominal workout, with limited oxygen depletions and simultaneous straining of overworked tendons. Sometimes my face looks like I’m painfully trying to blow a frozen banana through a milkshake straw, more than joyfully worshipping the Lord with “Disney eyes”! One of my favorite oboe solos is here if you want to watch – and see what strain in the face looks like, since I was too embarrassed to post my own. (haha!)

– I was really surprised by how many others had the same worthless feeling when alone! I was amazed at the musicians’ group-chat of people who said, “I quit!” “I am never singing again!” “The church will never let me back in once they hear this recording!”

But what really surprised me about this project? How AMAZING the final product of all of us together truly is. (attached below) The worship-full song brought tears to my eyes (and the tears were not because of how many times I had heard that same song that week!).

One of our church musicians, singer Jim Wetterau, summarized it well when he said:

“During this time of pandemic and required separation (euphemistically called “social distancing”) our lives as part of a group, both in church and in choir have been rather dramatically upended.
In that time, many found it interesting to see virtual … sessions of singers that were created to cheer us up. One of the most widespread perhaps was the group of Nashville musicians who created a [virtual] chorus of “It is Well with My Soul”.
Thus [our directors], Jon and Aaron presented the idea of our choir doing a [virtual] creation of “Is He Worthy?” And last week we got down to creating our individual parts and submitting them to create the Colonial Virtual Choir. It was complete with background track with click tones for timing and a very good set of instructions.
Then the fun began. I don’t know about you, but the first time I sang through the tenor part with my Nikon filming my contribution, it seemed somewhat unusual—and then when I watched it, it seemed worse. Aaron had advised us it would likely require more than one take, so I did it again.

At that same time, Terri Brady sent in part of her daughter Christine, fitfully breaking into giggles as she tried to sing “We do!”. Now perhaps I felt more like crying than giggling, but I appreciated exactly how Christine felt. I finally finished my take on the tenor part and uploaded it, thinking, that when someone watched it they would surely feel like deleting it and never seeing or using it again.
Then last Wednesday, Aaron played a small part of the vocal from the chorus and I thought, “Wow that sounds great.”
And I realized, we are more than the sum of our parts and we are meant to be stronger together. While an individual effort can seem weak or unworthy, when we band together as believers.. and a church, or a choir, the Holy Spirit is with us and strengthens us and makes us able to do the things that God wants us to do. WE NEED EACH OTHER! The mistake we sometimes make is to think we have to be like soloists. But it is often soloists who do not make good choir members because their voices do not blend. So rejoice in the unity and fellowship we have as a choir, even though temporarily a virtual one, and enjoy and appreciate the gift God has given us to raise our voices together in imperfect but joyous harmony.
Soli Deo Gloria”

When we feel unworthy, worthless and like never trying again in life, what might God be orchestrating with all of our “good, bad and ugly”? We can’t see THAT in our sole recording studio! I have heard the question from young and old alike. In their fit of despair, their feeling of making awful sounds in front of a “camera” – the lens of life – they say, “What good am I?” “What could I possibly have to offer?” or in the words of the elderly, “Why am I left here to be a burden to all of you anyway?” Yet in each one I see God’s creating His message in an overall symphony He calls life.

As a public speaker and as a church musician, I have often prayed before going on stage – not that I would have a perfect performance – but that God would change whatever reaches the ears of the listener for His perfect purposes (no matter the imperfect way it left me).

The song chosen for our first virtual project was ideal. It was not:

“Are we Perfect?”

nor “Am I worthy?”

But “Is He Worthy?”

“Do you feel the world is broken? …
Do you feel the shadows deepen? …
But do you know that all the dark won’t stop the light from getting through? …”

The Orchestrator (this is my favorite paragraph)

This makes me think of my favorite lesson from this “virtual togetherness”: God is not quarantined. As the song says, “All the dark won’t stop the [Light] from getting through.” He can reach where He wants to reach in spite of laws, sicknesses and distance. He is not wringing his hands wondering what He could possibly do with this mess. His work can even go within the self-made walls of insecure people and pull out all of the yuck. He can work past our human limits of every little, stinking, ugly, very bad, flawed, mistaken, defective, imperfect part to show that yes! – He is able to build using even our scraps and make a masterpiece out of it all. Is He worthy of all blessing and honor and glory? He is! Now, our job is learning to enJOY and give thanks in every day – the good, the bad and the ugly – and trust He can use it in His beautiful overture. He is worthy of our all.

Andrew Peterson’s “Is He Worthy” by Colonial’s “Virtual Choir and Orchestra”

Is He Worthy? – Colonial Virtual Choir & Orchestra from Colonial Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Blessings,

Terri

1 Corinthians 12:14-18 For the body is not one member, but many. If the foot says, “Because I am not a hand, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “Because I am not an eye, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired.

P.S. A second project was completed! “Behold Our God” by Colonial’s Virtual Choir and Orchestra:

Behold Our God Virtual Choir (Final) from Peter Scheibner on Vimeo.

The Heartbeat of Fishing with Dad

Posted on April 14, 2020 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,

My dad called that fall and said, “If I were to go to a fly-in fishing lodge up in northernmost Canada, would you consider going with me?”

I replied, “In a heartbeat!”

At 82, he knew it might be a once-in-a-lifetime, and I was so grateful for the opportunity. Like listening to a teen practicing music, he was saying, “I love you,” the way a dad does, and I hoped I could scream it back to him.

At 79, he had lost his youngest (my little brother) and the following year, his wife (my mom) and one year after that – to the day – his own mother passed away at the age of 100. My grieving dad and I would probably do well with some time under the northern blue sky, while the worries of the world vanished in a small boat’s wake.

“You’re the only person I know who actually likes fishing,” he said. “Most people only like catching.” Haha! We both related to boats full of kids waiting for us to do the work. For him, I had been one of those impatient kids.

Every year of my childhood, my family took a two-week fishing vacation (Six of us and a dog in a camper that comfortably slept four Munchkins). Whether in the boat or on land I always loved to have my line in the water.

My dream of a northern lodge trip with Dad was probably birthed by my younger brother Mike. Once, he had shared with me his written goals, which included taking Dad on Dad’s wanted fly-in fishing trip. I was always trying to horn my way in on that idea, haha, and I didn’t realize Mike had never mentioned it to my father. Mike’s passing was a surprise to us all, but then his missed dream of the trip was a surprise to my dad. I think this Canada fishing trip might be deeper than the lakes on which we rested.

Adventure of Getting to “North”

I flew from North Carolina four hours and two time-zones to Denver, where my dad lived. The following day, we flew (through directionally incorrect Seattle) 7 hours to Saskatoon, SK, Canada. There, we rented a little Suburu SUV, (“Four-wheel-drive is necessary,” we had been told.) and after a night in a hotel drove straight north 3.5 hours (half-way to the North Pole, I am sure) to a very random boat dock with a plane attached. Cell signals long gone, GPS had been replaced by hand-written notes of a phone conversation between my dad and the destination nine months prior.

As I drove, the rain poured and mud thickened. I worried I could not stop – or mud would prevent our re-start. Barely seeing any cars during those hours, I knew if we did get stuck, we would be there a long time, missing our floatplane’s departure. At times a truck would come in the opposing lane and send shivers down my spine at its closeness. Once, a tanker which was literally in a sideways slide, forced me to move over – trying to control my own slide. My pounding heart caused my Fitbit to congratulate me on a good workout! Dad was calm. He always was.

Like many good journeys: the worse the drive, the more worthy the destination.

Nature lined both sides of the mud road. The further north we went, the more lakes, the less houses. Less people.

Finally, we arrived. We assumed we were at the right dock with a white floatplane and awaited the pilot who would take us to the much-anticipated destination: Lawrence Bay Lodge. When we exited the car in the mud-filled parking area, the elements hit. A cool mist engulfed my breathing, but my mouth was not properly filtering out gnats… or were they mosquitos? I went into the floatplane’s “business office,” a dilapidated trailer- similar to the one of my childhood – but with duct tape holding its indoor stairs in place and buckets catching the incoming rain. This was the first bathroom we had seen since Saskatoon. As I ventured in, I realized that this bachelors’ (plural) pad had not heard of Clorox. I wondered if this would be the condition of our week: bachelors, duct tape, mosquitos, and lack of Clorox. I tried to toughen up. UGH.

The pilot arrived at the dock; my heart was having second thoughts. As the storm picked up, the pilot wondered if it was safe to fly. (Note: if a floatplane pilot is wondering if it is safe to fly, it is NOT.) I was fine with taking the small rowboat with the Mercury attached, but the pilot told us that it would be an hour-long very wet, very bumpy [and mosquito-y] ride. We waited in cars to see what weather would do. I missed my weather app – and my house.

The storm lifted slightly and they rushed us along with other arrivals into the floatplane trying to get up and back down before the wind picked up again. This was my fourth takeoff and landing in 48 hours, and by far the roughest. However, we stayed low under the clouds – and in our short, fifteen minute flight saw miles and miles of lake beneath us. Weather has never stopped me from looking forward to fishing.

The plane landed more smoothly than its flight, and the Lawrence Bay Lodge welcomed us with its gorgeous, enormous log-cabin lodge with a lake view. One of the smaller cabins to its right became ours for the week. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw running water… and smelled Clorox. 🙂

Fishing Like No Other

The weather was cold for June, but not for Canada. Before leaving North Carolina, I had checked my weather app for LaRonge, SK (as far north as the app recognized civilization) which predicted several days of unseasonable 40’s (F) and intermittent rain, followed by sun reaching into the upper 70’s by the end of the week. I debated on packing a poncho versus raincoat and ended up bringing both – in their tiny little packages, a size to which they would never return. This extra raingear was a blessing of the week, as my father had only packed using the 9-month-old hand-written paper weather forecast from the phone conversation which said, “Usually 70’s by June in Canada.” (We laughed at the error, because we decided my mom would have brought seven coats and fourteen sweatshirts in case anyone else in the camp needed one. Haha!). Dad and I bought matching sweatshirts at the Lodge, a perfect layer under the raincoats. (Dad actually melted one of the raincoats standing too close to our cabin heater after fishing one evening! It was cold!)

But we hadn’t come for a fashion show, nor for the good weather. We had come to fish. In particular, my dad had always wanted to catch one of those monster forty-inch northern pikes. The following morning at 6:30, our daily wake-up-call took root: a knock at the door presented us with coffee and hot chocolate, already poured into individual cups, delivered by one of the lodge owners. After a hot breakfast in the dining room, we met our personal captain in a little rowboat with a Mercury at the dock by 8:00. A pure Cree Indian, Vince followed the path of both his father and grandfather as a fishing guide. The recent loss of that grandfather patriarch often brought his name to conversation during our long days on the water. We asked Vince how he could possibly tell the difference between the thousands of islands he navigated, and he said, “It’s in my blood,” with a wry smile, of course. He knew the type and size of fish by the way it hit the line – long before we saw it. He liked to play a game that he would tell me what time it was – when he didn’t have any timekeeping device in his presence. He was always within 15 minutes of my dad’s watch. Every day was a different location, and every day was a LOT of fish. My father regretted that we didn’t keep a count!

“Fish on!” I excitedly said within minutes of dropping our rattle traps into the water behind the trolling boat that first morning. Lake trout were incredible fighters compared to the Carolina bass to which I was accustomed. At around 11:30am, Vince said, “Let’s keep the next one for lunch.” We did.

Pulling up to a dock-less island, Vince found a somewhat flat spot and began to build a fire where one had never been. “I’ll give you a dollar for every bone you find,” he said with a smile while he filleted the fish, using the oar as his cutting board. (No Clorox needed. No dollars either.) He opened an old coffee can, revealing a bag of flour, a small vial of oil, a can of beans and some chopped potatoes. He then set a pan on top of the fire, put in some oil, added the potatoes and floured fish and put the can of beans in the coals alongside to warm. Within minutes, we had a perfect lakeside picnic. Vince often filled his drinking cup with water from the lake, but brought us bottled, knowing our stomachs weren’t as prepared for lakewater as his.

The afternoon was much the same… fish on! When we arrived back at the dock, Dad and I were ready for a nap before dinner and early bed! The next day, we moved from trout to pike. Vince cut the bait and told Dad the best place and hook action to use. When the first forty-inch-er took Dad’s line, he leaned back so far to set the hook, I thought we would lose him in the water! Dad reeled with might and the fish made its way to the boat to pose for its obligatory picture. If my dad had a bucket list, the forty-inch pike was on it. He had caught three by week’s end.

Nature and Stories

Like a good guide, Vince told entertaining stories. He talked about his grandfather and told tales of each of the islands (whose identity was a blur to us). (I have often wondered if fishing guides and taxi-drivers just make up stories on a daily basis and watch their audience’s reaction as they spin their yarn.) Once we found a plaque on an island, giving it a name. I wondered out loud how someone could claim one of these islands as their own to name. It certainly felt like “no man’s land” to me. Regardless, at the end of our trip, I sent a plaque to Vince, so he could place it on an island of choice, “naming it” after his grandfather.

Along with our fishing and shore lunches, we encountered nature’s animals. We promptly renamed seagulls as “freeloaders.” Each day, when we would pull up to a random island for fire-building and lunch-cooking, there would be no gull in sight. But by the time Vince’s knife had finished its first swath, there would be twenty-five seagulls ready to freeload on scraps that he discarded into the water.

One day at lunch, we picked a sandy area with fewer trees and brush to dig. Vince exclaimed something, and we came looking to see a fresh bear print right where we were gathering wood! (I wondered what my Fitbit thought about this workout.) At that point, I would have preferred a different location altogether, but Vince – in pure Indian style – assured us that the bear was gone, “probably a kilometer away.” When we were departing our lunch site, he pointed up to the side of the hill above where we were, and there was the bear, still ascending.

My favorite animal encounter was probably when an eagle (of which we saw many!), practically crossed over the front of our boat in pure flight. Vince caught my attention, giving me just enough time to snap a picture. Isaiah 40:31 came to mind. “Yet those who wait for the LORD will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.”

There were other nature differences between northern Canada and where I live. For example, the sun never sets! Well it set, but it did so after I was in bed and starting to gild the sky by 3:30am, complete with the escort of birdsong. (Birds must need less sleep in Canada!)

3:59am sun rising

Similar to the event during our harrowing drive, at several points during our week, I noticed my Fitbit congratulating me on a workout! Ha! Workout? I had sat in a boat with a fishing rod in hand! Maybe it was picking up that my heart rate would accelerate at the fun of catching the fish?! After all, the data shows it to be active only during the hours of our boating! I don’t think my heart chose favorites – whether the fish was on my line or his. We both enjoyed it either way. I suppose my heart rate graph was just a visible proof of the gift of fun I was having. I hoped my dad’s graph would look the same.

My dad and I spent many silent hours together. No internet, no phones, some books. In the comfort of a good relationship, we often just sat in silence. I enjoyed watching his joy of fishing. Each evening we had a magnificent dinner at the lodge (This was no bachelor pad!) and heard the fish tales of the day from others in the camp. We then retired to a game of Scrabble before an early bed. Every day. For seven days– before our long trip back home. It was amazing.

I know many daughters would prefer a fancy place, something to dress up for, people to meet, award-winning meals and jewelry. But I got such joy out of the simplicity of life and the love language of most kids from their dads: T.I.M.E. The lull of the engine motor. The look of the wake vanishing into the glistening water. The peace of silence… with Dad.

Dad and I weren’t betting people, but we did have fun wagering a dollar:

For the first fish: me
For the last fish: Dad
For the biggest fish: Dad
For the smallest fish: me
For the greatest variety: Dad (trout, walleye, pike and a white fish, which put scales all over the boat!)
Dad won a dollar.

Scenery, wildlife, sport and restoration for our souls: it was truly a wonderful vacation I will never forget. If my brothers, kids or husband ever ask if I want to go back, my response would be the same, “In a heartbeat!” I think when I do, I will bring along a plaque to put on an island somewhere to name it in memory of Dad.

Blessings,

Terri

The Fish:

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The Scenery:

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Related Posts:

Other Letters in Memory of Dad:

Unattended Vehicles

Posted on November 4, 2013 by Terri

Para español, haga clic aquí (coming soon)

Dear Lindsey,

As we neared the fair grounds, the houses on the side streets had lawns decorated with parked cars. Big signs that said, “$10 parking” adorned their mailboxes at the road.

“Mom! Can we buy a house here? What a business asset the front yard would be!” Christine (age ten) said. I can’t remember how I responded, but she concluded, “But I would only charge $9.”

Such an entrepreneurial-kid! (Thanks to Robert Kiyosaki’s books.)

The NC State Fair has become a family tradition that began two years ago: It was then that our newly arrived 10-week-old puppy was too new to be left at home, so she rode along. Her presence only increased the excitement in the car (which didn’t need more excitement!) on our debut to the event. The State Fair, advertised to us for its deep-fried Oreos and Twinkies, (as if they needed hot oil to add to that “nutrition”!) with rides (which didn’t pass the two engineer-parents’ safety factor), stilt-walkers, Blue Grass bands, and the like, was sure to be a fun family day. Our children floated in excitement, while we tried to contain them in the Ford Expedition for the thirty-minute ride to the state capital’s fair grounds. My husband Chris opted for the N.C. State University football stadium parking lot with shuttles, instead of someone’s front lawn.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of cars were neatly arranged in diagonal rows. A yellow-vested worker guided us to the next relatively empty section, where Chris took the liberty of choosing a spot further away from all of the opening car doors. Our truck’s doors opened like an explosion, opposite of the slow speed by which our children (and dog) unloaded. Chris came to my side of the car, barking out the normal arrival parental questions: “What’s taking so long to get out?!” “Why would you take your shoes off for such a short ride?” “Did you even bring shoes?”

Chris was bent over helping the youngest (age six at the time) tie his shoes, when suddenly the tone and urgency in his voice changed.

“HEEEYYY!” he yelled at a Toyota Corolla that slowly went by, barely missing Chris’s foot!

That’s when he and I noticed there was no driver in the car!

Some people, who were assumedly already riding the shuttle to the fair, had walked away, leaving their car in neutral. The car was left on its own, silently drifting through a parking lot of families, heading for sure disaster. It was going slowly enough that Chris grabbed the door of the driver’s side, only to discover it was locked. Emergency mode was striking my heart as I tossed the puppy back into the truck and told the kids to sit tight. I ran alongside the passenger door of the runaway, realizing it too was locked. Our comfortable jog was becoming more of a sprint as the car, going slightly downhill, gained speed. Realizing there was no way to stop the car, (My heart is racing at the memory, just typing this.) Chris began focusing on trying to save the people in its path. “UNATTENDED CAR!” he yelled from his jog. Somehow I felt the need to translate the words for the average fair go-er, and I began yelling from my side, “HEEEYYYY! GET OUT OF THE WAY! THIS CAR HAS NO DRIVER! THIS CAR CAN’T STOP! GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

(Yes. My poor husband has taken much heat in our humor-filled family for his best-selling-author-ish choice of words, “unattended car!” since we were in a parking lot…full of “unattended cars.” But, I digress…)

A family, standing outside of their Jeep Cherokee (probably asking their kids where their shoes were), jumped out of the way before the silent killer passed. Fortunately, there were not many people in the path of the car, since it entered the parking section that had been filled hours earlier. We ran beside the car, yelling and working up a sweat, as it coasted to its final destination – crashing into a Honda Accord whose owners would be in for a not-so-fair ending to their day at the fair.

Unattended Lives

Driving away and laughing that day, thankful to have avoided what could have been a serious situation, I wondered how many times my life has been like the unattended Toyota Corolla. I have strolled through days (or years!) in neutral, allowing the grade of incline of my surroundings to determine my speed and destination.

The time at a job I just kept doing, afraid to change anything…
The times I was in a crowd of ladies, and I just kept listening, avoiding disagreement…
The times I allowed smoke from a conflict to be seen in the distance, without checking on the source of the fire…
The time I was done with college and said, “Yay! Now I never have to read another book!”

When we look around, “unattended lives” abound:

People who worship their dog or TV, rather than learning how to get along with others. (Even the bumper stickers quip, “The more I know people, the more I like my dog.”)
Families who have never made an effort to keep a budget call out “unfair!” at anyone who has money.
Millions who stopped their learning once the government stopped requiring it (when they turned 16) and still get to vote.
Married people who think that because they wear a ring, they deserve loyalty from their spouse, so they no longer strive to please the one they married.

It makes me sad to see their vehicles plodding along, doomed to crash. Unfortunately, innocent bystanders will have to deal with the ramifications of the crashes due to those “unattended lives.”

Attending to Life

How do we get life out of neutral?

Learning a little Latin and Greek with my homeschoolers has brought word meanings to mind: some for real, and some I just totally make up. (smile!) However, I did learn somewhere in there that “a” is put at the beginning of words to mean “opposite of.” So therefore, “attending to” would mean the opposite of “tending to.” In other words, the only way to make our lives go in the opposite direction of their fleshly tendencies (sin, laziness, etc.) is to attend to them.

An “attended life” is one in which someone…well…has the car in gear!

Someone who:

Determines a direction in which to aim, and then runs toward it. (Run the race set before us, to obtain the prize in Christ Jesus! Heb 12:1 )
Reads the right books, listens to audios and associates with people who are directionally correct. (And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near. – Heb 10:25)
Understands that education is a lifetime adventure. As Orrin Woodward says, “Education is a lifetime assignment. It expires when we do.” https://twitter.com/Orrin_Woodward

Don’t get me wrong; life has many crashes, that are “accidents,” too. I would be wrong to say all bad outcomes are because we let go of the wheel. We cannot control negative outcomes, only our efforts toward positive ones. As my father always taught me, “Do your best; angels can do no more.” Too often, I have looked at the smoke rising from a crashed day in my life and thought, “I could have avoided that.”

Press On

I suppose in order to drive, we must press on the pedal. 🙂

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own.” – Phil 3:12

“An unattended car may be dangerous, but an unattended life can be tragic.” – Chris Brady. https://twitter.com/RascalTweets

To paraphrase Ann Graham Lotz, “It’s painful to watch a Christian who has a saved soul, but is living a wasted, [unattended] life.”

Press on [the pedal], my dear friend!

Terri Brady

Tending to Forgive (Unattended Vehicles: Part 2)
Orange Signs of Protection
Climb the Ladder
Fire! Fire! Pants on Fire!

Throwing Myself Under the (School) Bus

Posted on May 15, 2013 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,

Some of the most entertaining responses I have received when I said I homeschooled were:

“And you still have your hair?! That is amazing!” (Thanks, Melinda!)
“If I homeschooled, all that my kids would know how to do is shop at Target!” (Thanks for not homeschooling, my friend 🙂 .)
“I could never spend that much time with my kids; [and even worse,] they would never want to spend that much time with me!” (Thanks, lady at the park.)

Many feel compelled to tell me why they don’t homeschool – which really isn’t necessary – I know it is not for everyone. I am not a homeschool Nazi who thinks there is only one way to do well for your children. I have no vendetta against public school; I love all of my friends who send their kids to school; and I pretty much adore most of the teachers I have met.

More and more often, I hear, “How do you do that?” or “I wish I had done that.” And my favorite response: “Can you tell me why you would do that?” (Thank you, drug store employee!)

Children Who…

Chris explained to me one day, “I don’t look at our children as clay that we should mold, but as seeds God entrusted to us, and we should provide the best garden for their growth.”

The educational methods we have chosen are purposeful to allow our four children to grow to be adults who would:

Glorify the Lord
Reach their fullest potential
Are Hardworking (Prov 13:4)
Have a good attitude, showing the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5:22)
Are leaders in their homes, their churches, communities, and country

In summary, the principles we would like to instill would raise happy, healthy, productive Christian Americans.

The Princess Bride Story (sort of)

Have you heard this story about a princess? She was of marrying age, so her father began his search for the right man to whom he would promise his daughter’s hand in marriage. Man after man lined up, trying to impress the king to win his favor and take his daughter’s hand. A chariot race was arranged on the dirt path at the edge of the mountain and the husband wannabes prepared their horses and carriages for the show. One man stepped forward to gain the king’s attention and said, “I would like your daughter to ride with me; I will get her within one foot of the cliff’s edge and bring her safely to the end of the race.”

The next man could not be outdone, so he had a different promise: “Sir, I would love to win your favor so much that I will get your daughter within one INCH of the cliff’s edge and bring her safely to the race’s end.”

The third man walked slowly toward the king. He meekly began, “Sir, your daughter is of such value; I would not risk getting her anywhere near the edge of the cliff. I will deliver her safely, in the right time, as far from the cliff’s edge as I can.”

The king cancelled the race and promised the daughter’s hand to the third suitor who promised her safety.

Why Homeschool?

I suppose I feel as if a King has entrusted four children to me, and I want to deliver them

back to Him as safely as I am able. That is not to say that someone who does not homeschool is sending children over the edge of some cliff! Hear me out: I have met MANY public school educated people who are far from the edge of any cliffs themselves (including my perfect husband and perfect me! LOL).

…

“I can say that we have tried all kinds of schooling for our four kids: public school, private school and homeschool, and none of them works!” – Stephen Davey, tongue in cheek

Principal’s Principles

“Methods are many.

Principles are few.

Methods always change.

Principles never do.”

Homeschooling is not a principle in the Brady house; it is a method. This may be obvious since we currently have two in school and two schooling at home. This school year of 50-50 has shed light on both sides of the schooling methods, and spurred me to write you.

I have heard that data shows that the factor that is most influential over a child’s education is the parents’ active involvement in the education – whichever method is chosen.

“The philosophy of the schoolroom in one generation will be the philosophy of the government in the next,” Abraham Lincoln said. If that statement is true, then we parents had better know, and heartily agree with the philosophy of whatever schoolroom in which our children spend their weeks. (An article and a two minute video below tell a little bit about “Common Core,” a new classroom curriculum which has already started in 45 states. There is a core philosophy being mandated by the government, so I guess in those states, Lincoln’s quote could be restated: “The philosophy of the government in THIS generation will be the philosophy of the schoolroom, too.” But I digress…)

Normally, I would put a list of “recommended reading” at the end of a Letter, but the recommended reading here is practically more important than this Letter! So I want to include it here. Whether you homeschool, public school or private school, these books should be required reading for any parent:

The Reasons We Homeschool:

In her book, Debra Bell recommends writing down WHY you homeschool. (And I would recommend writing down WHAT YOU WANT AT THE OTHER END OF SCHOOL whichever method of schooling you choose – to keep yourself accountable to your principles.) This list has kept me “in” many times when the “bad wolf” was whispering contrary thoughts in my head; but it has also guided many decisions of ours, “Should we hire a teacher?” “Should we participate in a homeschool group?” “Should I offer to teach other like-minded families in a group or start our own school?” to name a few. We just look at how those decisions affect (or don’t affect) this list of benefits and then decide.

This list will be different for all families. Just because some of these are available to homeschoolers does NOT mean that these benefits are not available to public school or private school.

Brady Family: goals and benefits of homeschooling

Biblical values being taught and “caught” – consistent without wavering based on denominations, legalism, or tolerance. This includes consistent discipline – not 6 hours of one way, and then a totally different magnitude at home.
Closely knit family relationships. No age-group segregation to foster segregation within a family. Friends of all ages.
Flexible schedule for travel, neighbors in need, and visitors.
Speed of learning catered to individual and/or individual subject. Teach at a 1st grade level in reading, but 3rd grade in math, for example.
Style of learning catered to the individual Spoon-feeding methods and memorization versus self-teaching and reading classics; audio learning versus visual versus kinesthetic learning methods, etc.
Avoid negative comparison or labeling by people who don’t necessarily have my kids’ best interest in mind or don’t love them the way I do.
Avoid unnecessary negative influence of peers, teachers, or bullies.
Subjects of MY choice, based on my priorities: Bible, Employment, Self-employment, Business ownership and Investment quadrants of Cashflow (by Kiyosaki), outdoor play, music lessons, languages, people skills, etc.
1. Once they have learned to read, they should be able to read to learn in any subject so they can take that skill to be life-long learners.
Emphasize learning and mastery, not grades, standardized tests or brownie points.
1. Focus on learning to think, not learning what to think (DeMille)

10. Be influenced by other admirable homeschoolers.

11. Learn through experience. Learn history through traveling with Chris, etc. I will know what they have learned, so when we travel (even to grocery store!), I will be able to point out what applies to them at their level.

FAQ’s of Homeschooling:

Is it legal?
1. YES! Unless the government says our children are not our own…which unfortunately seems to be too common of a trend in what I see. Go to the Homeschool Legal Defense Association website to see legal requirements for your state: www.hslda.org
What about socialization?
1. Yep. Schools are better at teaching socialism. Haha! J
2. I asked this question about socialization originally of a homeschool mother and she said, “Do you want your 5-yr-old to learn social skills from another 5-yr-old? Or an adult?” Good point.
3. When I began, I coerced 3 or 4 good friends to do it with me. (OK – they say I dragged them into it – but over a decade later, and they have helped guide me as much or more than any opposite force.) There was no “trend” of friends to follow, but homeschoolers had laid a path that we found with ease. We got our kids together once/week for gym, music and art. The group grew to be 40+ families of 100+ kids by the time I left Michigan two years ago. Now here in Raleigh, NC, there are thousands in the homeschool groups, and several from which to choose. Socialization is with the right people during socialization time; learning takes place one on one in a quiet (well, relatively quiet) home.
Am I able do it?
1. Did you teach your child to use the bathroom? Tie his shoes? Make his bed? You have been homeschooling all along.
2. If you don’t know where to begin, there are many resources available for telling you word-for-word what to do and say daily.
3. In my experience, 5 and 6-yr-olds practically teach themselves when we offer them the right educational options of reading and play.
What about special needs? ADHD?
1. Special needs do not disqualify the ability to homeschool. Part of the confidence I had when I began homeschooling was due to working one-on-one with an autistic child, to whom his mother and I (among others) taught lessons each day, recording progress in a notebook. Thanks to God and the behavioral therapy, the non-speaking three-yr-old became an active kindergartener in public school just two years later, with no diagnosis of autism present. (Read “Let Me Hear Your Voice” by Katherine Maurice for additional information.)
2. ADHD children might fair well when treated individually, at their own pace and designed environment.
What does it cost?
1. A part of me wants to answer this one, “everything!” since every part of me becomes part of homeschooling. But in dollar terms, the cost varies based on the method chosen, which means it varies A LOT! Robinsoncurriculum.com offers a K-12 classics curriculum for under $400 for 13 years’ worth (less on eBay). Amblesideonline.org offers completely free downloads and reading lists by grade-level that provide most of the needs for FREE. A local homeschool group offers classes for most high school courses for about $500 each subject/year. Classical conversations costs about $1500/year for middle school. EBay changes all the numbers. As you can see, the cost varies greatly.
How much time does it take every day?
1. Oliver DeMille, in Thomas Jefferson Education, suggests spending five hours/day doing something academic. Some kids will drive themselves more from there. Younger kids, less.
2. In the early years (K-3^rd grade), I rarely spend more than 2 hours working with the student. Often 20min reading lesson and a little math and they are off on their own- reading, exploring the outdoors, etc. Last I checked, Kindergarten is still optional in many states, as well as the Brady home. The “incidental learning” through influence of reading aloud and playing games made Kindergarten “requirements” satisfied by age three or four for all four of our children – so I was never too worried about officially “starting school.”
3. It is impossible to measure length of time in homeschooling. Maybe we work 8am-11am specifically teaching, but then I see Christine (9) off in the woods in the backyard, carrying a journal and the Nature Handbook with her. And I see JR (7) trying to get his remote control car to balance, holding the magazine that he hand-made for a friend down the street. Then we snuggle with popcorn and books (See the letter: “Raising Readers”) or get out the map at night, to see where Pagoo went on his journey during bedtime reading. How much time did it take to “do school”?
What curriculum do you use?
1. I highly recommend anyone trying to choose a curriculum to read the DeMille and Bell books (above), before choosing. I don’t use the same curriculum for all of my children (see “reason why Bradys homeschool” #5 above). Look for a future Letter to Lindsey regarding getting started.
2. When I first began homeschooling, I simply brought school home; I even boasted, “I use the same curriculum as some schools.” However, experience has told me that I was not satisfying #4, 5, 8 or 10 of my reasons by just selecting a box curriculum (like A Beka or Bob Jones) and staying with it. So I branched. I got rid of the “chalkboard mentality paradigm” I had from growing up in school. Now, we do Bible, math and grammar/penmanship together and then focus on reading classics. Incidentally, if anyone asks, I highly recommend to anyone starting homeschool – especially with a child who has been in school – that they begin with a box curriculum like A Beka or Bob Jones, because it gets the daily routine right before you start picking and choosing creatively.)
Is there an age when you shouldn’t homeschool anymore?
1. My first “age” goal to reach for each child was 10-yrs-old. The goal was that after age 10, we could reevaluate whether homeschool was right for us. Dr. James Dobson says that if a child is given one standard consistently until the age of 8-10 years old, he is much less likely to veer from it. This goes along with the fact that most discipline for obedience within a home is heavily required until around age 6-10. If, however, the foundation has many “blows to its base” when a 1^st grade teacher teaches evolution, for example, or promotes divorce, or doesn’t punish for a child’s lie, the child is more likely to not only question his beliefs, but his parents’ as well. So it was my first goal to get to age 10. Of course, we loved it and went beyond.
2. My friend, Donna Ascol, who has graduated 4 homeschoolers with high school and associates degrees at the same time, and still homeschools two more says, “If I could only homeschool two years of their whole lives, it would be 6^th and 7^th grade.” I agree that those two years can be painfully unforgettable and unrealistic on the social skills of peers; I have not been put inside of a locker since 7^th grade. LOL.
3. We put our eldest in school at 9^th grade, but I do NOT say that high school is the age where all should go to school…if they go to school at all! It was right for him, but it may not be right for all. My second son will be coming back home for 8^th grade next year: his request; our choice.
4. It goes back to praying through the pros and cons of your personal situation for each child. Reevaluating every year takes the pressure off. No for now doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind next year. Chris and I have often come to lean in a direction, just because it has less chance of regret. I will never regret the extra time I have spent with my kids, never.
What obstacles are there to overcome? (The way to overcome any obstacle is to make sure the dream is bigger than the obstacle. Stay focused on your “reasons for homeschooling” any time one of these obstacles arises in your mind. Believe me, those school buses never look so appealing to me as every February; I get my list of “why” back out and read it!)
1. Family and Friends: With any good decision comes resistance. Well-meaning family and friends can weigh a homeschooler down. I had to understand that even though it was TRULY not in my heart, my homeschooling implied that their schooling choice was not as good as my own. Not true, but I am guessing they felt it regardless. Time allowed us all to encourage each other in our choices, knowing God has a plan for each.
2. Parenting: The fluency of homeschooling is limited by our own discipline within the home. Many have told me they want to homeschool, but their kids won’t listen to them. Sad. Excuse. If we can’t train them to listen to us, the parents, to what authority will they listen? Look at statistics of peer pressure and you get the answer. It is ok to make demands of your children – even in schooling. I am ashamed that I used to think that was “someone else’s job.”
3. Toddlers: I don’t like calling children “obstacles,” but toddlers bring a challenge to homeschooling – not an impossibility – a challenge. You can do it anyway! Yes, it is easier now that I don’t have to try to dance with Cheerios in my hair to distract the 1-yr-old while, cleaning up the Play-Doh of the 3-yr-old, all while teaching the 6-yr-old addition, and the 9-yr-old science, but it was worth it. Much has been written about homeschooling with toddlers in the room, so I won’t bore with details, but I encourage you to look into it. (Help for the Harried Homeschooler is a good place to start.) It makes me oh so sad when I hear of a mom that gives up homeschooling her 6-yr-old because she is afraid her 3 and 1-yr-olds were too much of a distraction! (See answer to #6 above for how much time it takes. See Obstacles #9d (perfectionism) below and overcome it. Then re-read your reasons to homeschool before you consider putting a six-year-old in school due to younger siblings.)
4. Perfectionism: My desire for perfectionism was such an obstacle, that it was the most common whisper/shout in my ear, trying to persuade me to put my kids in school. Sometimes the house fell apart. (THAT is funny that I just used past-tense, since it STILL falls apart!) The school day almost NEVER looks perfect. (“Almost” is optional in that sentence.) I too often imagined that some teacher, any teacher would do a better job than I was doing. SHE would be more organized. HE would get all of the checkmarks in the box for the day. But raising a child is not about collecting checkmarks! Raising the next generation of leaders will not always look organized! Now that I have some years of experience in homeschooling, I can confidently tell you that years of imperfect homeschooling are leading to mature children who are progressing in the direction of happy, healthy, productive Christian Americans.

Who should NOT homeschool?

If the only reason you want to take your kids out of school is so they don’t wake you up in the morning, please don’t.
If you are only half-interested in it, please don’t.
If you are only mad at a teacher, please don’t. Rectify things with the teacher, and then make a decision through prayer.
If you call your husband a “*&^#&*$^@bleep who won’t clean the toilets!” your kids could use a better influence. (HAHA – Remember from my last letter, “It Began as a Walk in the Park”?)
If you don’t feel called to homeschool, nothing is wrong with you. There are other options and God may be using your life and your children’s in those situations for His glory! Press on!

In love,

Terri Brady

Two minute video on Common Core: http://youtu.be/9gyZDtzgta8

Article on two moms who who got involved and made a difference for their state when they noticed something had changed because their school started using Common Core: Two Moms Versus Common Core

It Began as a Walk in the Park (the beginning story of my homeschool)
Homeschooling Missing Ingredients (Mistakes I’ve Made)
Act Like the Mom!

Good Things Come to Those Who Climb

Posted on June 25, 2012 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,

Ciao! We are enjoying our vacation in Tuscany, Italy! Continue reading →

A Soldier’s Perspective

Posted on March 30, 2012 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,

I got one of those emails today that made me stop and think. A soldier was asking it to be passed on, so I thought I would forward it to you. Please continue to keep soldiers in prayer, as they are paying a great price. I saw in the news today how one heroically laid down his life for a young girl. Many will not make the news story, but they and their families are so valued in my eyes, as is anyone who serves others above him/herself. I am so grateful for not only the soldiers, but their wives/husbands/families who sacrifice the “average life” to obtain more for us all.

Thank you!

And when you read to the end, you can probably add, “A soldier finds it hard to listen to someone be exasperated over her dog’s behavior.” I love how the Lord gently gives us perspective.

WHEN A SOLDIER COMES HOME
This email is being circulated around the world – please keep it going

When a soldier comes home, he finds it hard…

…to listen to his son whine about being bored.

…to keep a straight face when people complain about potholes.

…to be tolerant of people who complain about the hassle of getting ready for work.

…to be understanding when a co-worker complains about a bad night’s sleep.

…to be silent when people pray to God for a new car.

…to control his panic when his wife tells him he needs to drive slower.

…to be compassionate when a businessman expresses a fear of flying.

…to keep from laughing when anxious parents say they’re afraid to send their kids off to summer camp.

…to keep from ridiculing someone who complains about hot weather.

…to control his frustration when a colleague gripes about his coffee being cold.

…to remain calm when his daughter complains about having to walk the dog.

…to be civil to people who complain about their jobs.

…to just walk away when someone says they only get two weeks of vacation a year.

…to be forgiving when someone says how hard it is to have a new baby in the house.

The only thing harder than being a Soldier…

Is loving one. I was asked to pass this on, so I did.