In honor of my oldest son turning 9 in a few weeks, take a walk down memory lane with me with a journal entry from 2016

I’ve always wanted to be a wife and mom. You would never have heard me admit that until about a year ago, when I met my husband, and he just brought it out of me. A few months later, my husband made me a wife, and a few weeks after that, First Response informed me I would be a mom. Just like that, in under a year, my entire life changed, and I was ecstatic!

I like to joke that I found out I was pregnant as soon as I got pregnant. I just knew, and I thought that it was so cool, that me and this baby already have this bond, from their first moment of existence. My first positive test was a day before my 4th week, so I’ve been in this from the start.

Unfortunately, my first few weeks of pregnancy were not the happy, glowy, dopamine-filled days I was promised. All-day sickness wrapped it’s arms and legs around me and would not let go. I couldn’t eat, drink any liquids, or sleep, and at the same time, I couldn’t not sleep and every time I lifted my head off the pillow, I felt like I was spinning into oblivion. I wasn’t necessarily hugging the toilet every waking moment, but it felt like I was constantly on the verge All. The. Time.

The first few weeks are made even harder by the fact that I couldn’t get my first hospital visit scheduled until the eighth or ninth week. My hospital was great, and I was able to call and speak to a nurse for some tips on how to deal with the morning sickness, but it pretty much felt like for 4 weeks, I was in limbo, with no idea what was going on with my body. Was there really a baby in there, or has my body just been overtaken by some alien disease that no one has the cure to?

In those moments of hopelessness, I came to find out, I was unprepared for the realities of expecting. “Have a baby,” they said. “You’ll be glowing,” they said. “Your body will know what to do,” they said. I really wanted to punch “them” in the face, ha!

Finally we got to week eight, and I finally got the healthcare I so desperately was in need of. My husband and I try to eat clean and lead healthy lives, and like a lot of people, I wanted a natural drug-free pregnancy, but I had to come to a point that a lot of moms get to, where it’s not about your preferences anymore, it’s about the health of your child and ultimately yourself. Losing weight the way I was and not being able to keep anything down for days, wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

The medicine was great, but nothing compared to the moment the ultrasound wand was placed on my belly and we saw our baby on his back with his arms and legs waving at us and his little heart just beating away without a care in the world. That moment changed my life forever.

Suddenly it wasn’t about the nights spent sleeping in the bathtub because I couldn’t make it back to bed, or about the meals I couldn’t eat, or about being poked for IV’s and blood draws.

Seeing my child in there, part me, part the love of my life, that moment changed everything. That moment was my “glow”. I saw his face and now I’m a believer.

I’m well acquainted with regret. Eating takeout 5/7 days this week and gaining 2 pounds this month? Regret.

I’m close friends with remorse: “Lord, I’m giving my heart away to distraction. I promised You I wouldn’t, but I did. And I am so sorry.”

Repentance? I’m not so sure.

Because remorse, regret, and repentance are not the same thing.

Regret feels bad, but it doesn’t change direction.
“I hate how this made me feel.”
“I wish I hadn’t gone that far.”
“I don’t like the consequences.”

Remorse can be sincere and emotional and still keep you stuck.
“This isn’t who I want to be.”
“I’m disappointed in myself.”
“I feel terrible over my choices.”

For a long time, I thought repentance was dramatic.

To me, it looked like Matthew 5:30. Cutting off your arm or gouging out your eye if it causes you to sin. But after I read that chapter again, I realized that isn’t repentance.

Remorse, regret, and shame convince us that what we need is more willpower.

“I overate today. I’ll restrict tomorrow to make up for it.”
“I messed up again. I’ll be stricter next time.”

But what we actually need is more truth.

Repentance isn’t proven by how extreme your punishments are. Friends, if punishment worked, it would have worked by now.

If Matthew 5:30 tells us anything, it’s this: Stop protecting the thing that’s killing your intimacy with God.

God isn’t asking you to cut off your arm. He’s asking you to stop hiding your heart. He is nearer than your guilt suggests.

Repentance is not:

• vowing harder

• proving you’re serious this time

• minimizing your sin

• striving for the perfect redemption story arc

Repentance is turning back to God as you are. Without hiding, numbing, bargaining.
or trying to dictate the outcome. Repentance is surrender. It isn’t dramatic. It literally just means to turn.

1. Turning your face back toward God when you’re tired of looking at everything else.

2. Agreeing with God’s Word and then taking the next faithful step, not fixing your entire life overnight.

God isn’t waiting for you to prove you’re serious this time. He’s waiting for you to stop running from Him.

If you’re like me, you’re used to running, to numbing, to scrolling, to busyness…but healing often begins with retraining your nervous system to trust God again.

Psalm 51: Repentance without performance

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love…”

David doesn’t begin with promises or vows or “I’ll never do this again.” He begins by reminding himself of God’s unchanging character. Repentance always starts there.

Not:
“I’ve messed up again.”

But:
“God, You are merciful.”

If repentance starts with willpower or self-condemnation, it’ll collapse. If it starts with God’s love, it’ll hold you.

Some of us were trained to chase feeling instead of faithfulness. So when God feels distant, your body panics. And it reaches for noise. Something to feel. Food, sex, alcohol, social media, Netflix.

When we stop seeing God in our daily lives, especially if you were taught to believe that His presence is equated with favor, growth, signs and wonders. Seasons of dryness, stillness, emptiness, quiet, can feel debilitating. It feels easier to hide. It becomes easier and easier to leave the Bible on the shelf and live like He’s distant.

But it’s slowly draining us, and we’ll wake up one day with an internal emptiness that matches everything we feel on the outside. We have to fight that lie.

“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father…’

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him. He ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him.

‘Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.”
(Luke 15:17–18, 20, 23–24)

Your prayers might be starting to feel hollow because they sound like: “God I’m sorry, please forgive me, I’ll do better.”

When what God is actually inviting is: “God, I don’t want You, and that scares me. I want Your hand more than Your heart right now, and I’m ashamed about that. I don’t know how to sit with You when You feel silent. Help me seek You and Your heart again.”

Repentance doesn’t leave you out in the cold. It doesn’t leave you bloodied or bruised. The prodigal son comes home to a party. David asks God to restore his joy.

God’s nearness, promised in His word, is what breaks the cycle of sin. Not a feeling, not emotional intensity. His nearness. Us drawing closer to Him, and Him always ready to receive us.

“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)
“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:8)

Nothing draws people out of hiding like the truth that God is already near.

He isn’t waiting for you to conquer before drawing near. He’s waiting for you to stop hiding, and to stop trying to conquer it alone.

If this feels like a place you’d like to return to, you’re welcome here.

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Well, I just told my kids Santa isn’t real.

The Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and Wishing Fountains were also caught in the crossfire.

My son said, “YOU’RE TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY?!!!!”

Then he laughed. We laughed. It’s fine. He’s fine. We’re all fine.

Genuinely, it felt like this invisible weight lifted, and the rest of our night went really well.

These past couple of weeks have been a big upheaval in the charismatic church world. A series of exposés have come out regarding some leaders in that space, specifically around clergy abuse, spiritual manipulation, and cover-up culture. It’s been over a decade since I was part of those circles, but it was still a lot of information to receive and process. I won’t get into all of that here, only to say, it made me think… how do I fix this so it doesn’t leak onto my kids?

Fix what?

Well… building their foundation on a house of cards.

I realized that when my kids look back on their lives, they will see me as their first source of truth. I’m their mom, and I’m their teacher: both in the parenting sense and in the I pick all their curriculum sense. If I’m their primary source of truth, I can’t afford to be untrustworthy.

And listen, this is me, not you. This is something I’m navigating, not prescribing.

Santa was never really a thing in our house until this past year. The kids never directly asked, and we never brought it up. But this year, being part of a regular community with kids from all different backgrounds, Santa entered the conversation. And part of me loved it. Their hearts were young enough to live in a make-believe fantasy, and after adulting for so long, I loved it. Same thing with the Tooth Fairy. That’s the only one we really engaged with, mostly to make the fearsome task of tooth extraction a little more bearable. They loved the anticipation of writing a letter and waking up to a dollar under their pillow.

When the Mike Winger podcast dropped last week and I received new information about the church/school I was formerly affiliated with, I found myself feeling like the rug was pulled out from under me. Things I believed in good faith turned out to be false because a group of leaders decided it was better to withhold the truth. They believed transparency would derail “the movement.”

Honestly, it made me mad.

It felt like I wasn’t allowed a mind of my own, to think or process honestly. And out of the myriad of things I need to think about, the first next step for me stemmed from the thought, I don’t want to do that to my kids.

I don’t want to hem and haw when they ask me if Santa is real.
“Well, um, honey, I don’t know… what do you think?”
Or, “Hmm, maybe next Christmas we can set a trap.”

It started to feel dishonest. All I could think about was: What happens when they find out? Will they wonder if I lied about other things too? Am I helping them understand the difference between make-believe and faith? Will they trust me with the big questions, or, like what happened to me, assume I’ll lie to them “for their own good”?

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So we made chocolate chip cookies, cuddled up under a blanket, and I began:

Kids, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I recently found out that when I was in school, someone told me something was good when it was actually bad. They lied, and when I found out, it made me really sad. It also made me realize that I don’t want to lie to you. I want you to know that I’m going to do my best to answer you honestly, so you know you can come to me with anything and trust me.

There are a couple of questions you’ve been asking me recently… Santa.

So, a long, long time ago, there was a good man named Nicholas. He wanted to do something special for kids who were having a hard time at Christmas, so he bought them warm clothes. Kids got excited and started telling stories about St. Nick. After he died, people wanted to continue that tradition, and over time, as the story was told and retold, it became the story of Santa Claus.

He was a real person, not magic. Mom and Dad put the gifts under the tree. Magic doesn’t exist the way you think it does. But God did something even better: He gave you a mom and dad who will always do their best to make things special and beautiful for you. That’s even better than magic. That’s love.

We celebrate Christmas and Easter to remember God’s love. And that love is what helps Mom and Dad create special memories for you.

They asked a lot of questions. We talked about the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the wishing well at the library, and throwing coins into fountains. We talked about the difference between a wish and a prayer. We talked about how these things are fun and memorable, but they don’t have special power. My daughter was disappointed about the fountain wishes, and we talked about how God answers prayer. Sometimes yes, sometimes no, sometimes wait, because it’s His will, and He always does what’s right in His time. We gave them examples of that from our own lives, and how easy it would have been to give up when it looked like God was saying no, but how happy we are that we waited.

My kids weren’t upset. They were surprised, especially about the Tooth Fairy. There were a lot of, “What?! Come On!” and “Now I know why the tooth fairy didn’t come on my 5th tooth, because you were too tired!” We laughed at different memories, dad getting caught on tooth fairy duties, mom, flashlight in hand fishing a tooth out from under the bed at 1 in the morning.

But overall, it was good. We assured them that this didn’t mean special or fun things were over. If anything, it’s better now because everyone gets to be in on the fun. It was honest.

Even though I’m sure there will be lots of followup needed and all this came at the tail end of a spiritually taxing week, it felt right.

Sharing all this to say: our kids are people too. Little versions of us. And maybe we can trust them with a little measured truth.

Hopefully, one day, they’ll remember they can trust us too.

If this feels like a place you’d like to return to, you’re warmly invited to join the community.

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We share a universal experience as moms. Your kids could be yelling in the next room, and you barely flinch. All of a sudden it gets quiet…a little too quiet, and before you know it, you’re on your feet investigating.

Another universal experience we might share, is realizing that you might have been using the grind as your guardrail through life. You find yourself in an extended season where stress feels like purpose, busy-ness feel like momentum and exhaustion is proof you’re doing something meaningful.

Then all of a sudden, when things are quiet, peaceful even, your mind tries to manufacture urgency just to feel safe again.

Let’s all take one collective deep breath.

I for one, am so guilty of this. I think this is what Jesus meant when he said, “don’t worry about tomorrow, each day has enough trouble of its own.” We come to the end of our day, and find quiet, and our revving minds start to pull chaos from tomorrow. Instead of reminding ourselves to breathe. To embrace the quiet in gratitude. To stop long enough to settle into rest at the end of the day, so we’re equipped for what tomorrow brings.

If this is you, let me remind you like the big sister we all need:

1. You didn’t stumble into this season.

You built it. You said no where you needed to, stewarded what God gave you, showed up for your kids, made scary pivots, and walked through actual warfare. You’re in a sown life era, reaping from seeds you planted in faith.

2. Readiness isn’t only built in discomfort.

Sometimes, God prepares us in peace. You don’t need to panic your way into purpose. This might be the season where He strengthens your roots in hidden, unseen ways. Remember Elijah? God fed him by a brook and let him rest before the next assignment. What if this pause is the preparation?

3. Don’t confuse boredom with lack of calling.

If your schedule’s empty, it doesn’t mean you are. It means there's room again to listen. To create. To worship. To dream. To be present. (Not productive. Present.) And that’s a kind of strength you’ll need if God does call you into something new soon.

So instead of crawling out of your skin, what if you peeled back the pressure and got curious? Ask:

“God, what would You have me notice in this moment I was too busy to see before?”

Because, friend… maybe it’s not time to go back to “hustle mode.”
Maybe it’s time to learn how to receive.

Especially for those of us who have never learned it before.

For those of us that have felt like they’ve had to fight, and claw to get to the top of the mountain.

For those of us that have lived terrified of being joyful because you know what it’s like to be broken when the source of your joy is gone.

For those of us all too familiar with constantly running from the dogs of poverty nipping at your heels. (Poverty not just being money, whatever it is that has been your life’s insecurity.)

Maybe God is saying, “My darling, stop running. Rest. Trust. I’m here.”

I love you. You’re not broken. You’re just… free. And freedom takes practice. 💛

If this space feels life-giving to you, we’d love to welcome you into the community.

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Last December, was the beginning of an end of sorts for me. I had to restructure my life after realizing that stress and burn out was catching up to me, and my health.

2025 turned out vastly different than the year before. I lost 20lbs, I became a girl that loves fitness, I started making better food choices, I stopped drinking soda(!)

On the other hand, I failed in certain areas of life, and definitely did not hit my financial/business/relational/Substack goals. Surprisingly, I’m not mad at that.

2025 felt like a deep inhale, and a held breath. The steady calm that I needed before jumping into this next phase of life. I’m entering 2026 with clarity, and hope that I’ve laid the groundwork, and built the systems and the scaffolding to hold the life I want together.

This is also the first year in recent memory that I laid out my goals and vision board before December 31. Is this what adulting feels like? It’s amazing!

That said, I thought it’d be fun for this last article of the year, to share what I’m calling this the constitution of my life, based on the “In’s and Out’s” trend and I hope you can draw some inspiration from it.

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2026 In’s / 2026 Operating Philosophy

How I Live

• I choose rhythms over reactions.

• I move my body daily to stay strong for the long road, not to chase a number.

• I begin my mornings anchored, not plugged in.

• I allow my days to be full without being frantic.

• I protect my nervous system like it matters, because it does.

How I Work

• My work must fit inside my life, not dominate it.

• I build slowly, with integrity, and for longevity.

• I value meaningful income over impressive income.

• I say no to urgency that isn’t mine.

• I measure success by sustainability, not output.

How I Mother

• I parent for formation, not performance.

• I prioritize presence, outdoor time, and real conversations.

• I trust that consistency beats intensity.

• I allow my children to grow at human speed.

How I Love

• I pursue peace in my home without pretending.

• I value shared rituals over constant fixing.

• I choose steadiness over emotional drama.

• I speak honestly without abandoning myself.

How I Practice Faith

• I keep my faith private enough to be real.

• I build devotion into my mornings and evenings.

• I trust God in the ordinary.

• I believe quiet obedience bears lasting fruit.

My North Star

I am building a life that can hold me, not impress others.

2026 Outs / What No Longer Belongs

1. Urgency That Isn’t Assigned to Me

• Other people’s timelines

• Internet pressure cycles (case in point, why is everyone rushing to take down their Christmas trees? I’m waiting till I’m good and ready :) )

• Artificial “now or never” thinking

• Hustle masquerading as faithfulness

If it requires panic, it’s not mine.

2. Performative Discipline

• Overtraining to feel worthy

• Restrictive eating as punishment

• Proving toughness instead of building strength

• Punishment disguised as consistency

My body is a partner, not a project.

3. Over-Explaining My Choices

• I don’t need permission to live slower

• I don’t need to justify my parenting rhythms

• I don’t need to defend wanting peace

• I don’t need consensus to choose alignment

Clarity removes the need for explanations.

4. Carrying the Emotional Weight of the Whole System
I am not responsible for:

• managing everyone’s comfort

• compensating for others’ inattention

• holding everyone’s emotional tone

Shared life means shared responsibility.

5. Building for Applause Instead of Endurance

• Creating content that drains me

• Projects that don’t feed the core vision

• Saying yes because it looks strategic

• Visibility that costs me my peace

I am building for decades and longevity, not dopamine.

I guess if I’m locking in to anything, I want to lock in to a life where I’m not “doing less”, I’m doing what lasts.

Did any of these resonate with you? What are your goals and intentions for 2026?

This Week’s Reflection

We were never meant to do this life alone.
Even from the beginning, God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
And yet, friendship can be one of the most tender places to trust again after hurt.

There’s that ache that comes when you realize someone you loved has drifted away.
When connection fades. When misunderstanding lingers. When your heart still reaches for people who are no longer reaching back.

But even in the ache, God is near.
He is the friend who never leaves, the companion who never withdraws.
He is the God who calls you chosen, not discarded.
He is the one still weaving connection, even when you can’t see it yet.

Divine friendship begins with Him.
And from that place of belonging, He brings others who reflect His heart. Friends who lift your arms when you’re weary, who speak life when your words run out, who pray with you until heaven moves.

It’s okay if that feels far away right now.
It’s okay if your circle is smaller.
God is still writing your story of friendship.

“As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”
— Proverbs 27:17

“After the fire came a gentle whisper.”
— 1 Kings 19:12

Prayer for Friendship

Heavenly Father, King of Glory,
Thank You for seeing our longing for connection.
Thank You for knowing the places that still ache from rejection or loss.

We invite You into those places today.
Heal what’s broken.
Soften what’s hardened.
Restore what was once good, or replace it with what is holy, and from You and only You.

Surround us with people who sharpen and strengthen our faith.
Raise up friends who pray for us when we cannot pray for ourselves.
Teach us to be those kinds of friends in return.

Let our homes and hearts be filled with peace, so much that anyone who walks in feels Your presence.

And in every season, remind us: You are the truest friend we’ll ever know.

In Jesus name I pray,

Amen.

Thank you for joining me for this week’s Quiet Hour.
I’ll see you again next week.

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Until then, stay rooted. Stay prayerful. Stay connected.
You’re not alone. 🌿

Have a prayer request? Leave it below, and we’ll pray for you next week.

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Summary:
In this deeply personal episode, I open up about what’s been happening behind the scenes since my unexpected break from The Quiet Revival: the podcast, the blog, the social media, all of it. From the heartbreak that led to a full crash, to the surrender that birthed new rhythms of faith and peace, this is the real story of burnout, obedience, rejection, and revival.

You’ll hear how I:

• Let go of a dream that was financially comfortable but spiritually suffocating

• Walked through a season of rejection and loneliness

• Found peace again through two simple practices: a morning rhythm and leaning into the season I’m in

• Relearned how God always shows up in the desert

I close the episode with a heartfelt prayer for anyone walking through a dry, lonely, or foggy season, because we’re getting out of this desert together. 🌿

Scripture References:

• Luke 2:49 — “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

• 1 Kings 19:12 — “After the fire came a gentle whisper.”

Mentioned:

• The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod

• My Waco weekend story

• Thoughts on social media fasting and living quietly online

If this episode encouraged you, would you take a moment to share it with a friend who might need it too? 💛 Tap the heart, leave a comment, or forward this post to someone walking through their own desert.

Share the quiet revival

🎧 Subscribe to The Quiet Revival on Spotify or Apple Podcasts so you never miss a new rhythm of encouragement.

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My prayer is that you’ll keep showing up: early mornings, long days, ordinary moments, all of it, trusting that God is in all of it. May His peace meet you before the day even begins.

Jo

I’ve noticed something lately with one of my kids. When they’re unsure of an answer, they sometimes ramble to fill in the blank, lip sync and hum along in music class while not really singing the words, or guess through a reading question they didn’t quite catch.

At first, I wanted to correct it. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized they weren’t being dishonest, they were trying to keep up. And I may have, both intentionally and unintentionally, created a dynamic where they want to a) impress me, and b) are afraid of getting it wrong. Also, there’s just the element of trying to look like they belong in the learning moment. And honestly? Haven’t we all done that too?

That’s when I started thinking about what it means to raise brave learners: kids who know it’s okay not to know. To be fair, I’ve pushed this child pretty hard because they are really smart, and have moved through their work really fast up to this point, but one thing I neglected in going at this pace was assuring them that it was OK to not know. Their discomfort in not knowing has become a weakness, because the best learners aren’t the one that go through the information fastest, it’s the ones that ask the best questions and who have a growth mindset.

At this age, I want my kids to know that confidence doesn’t come from having all the answers. It comes from being willing to ask good questions. Understanding that learning isn’t about getting it right the first time, but about staying curious, humble, and teachable.

So, to help my darling child to reframe some of these moments, I made a cheat sheet with some phrases they can use, and I wanted to share it with you guys too.

The Brave Learner Toolkit is a simple set of phrases your kids can use when they feel stuck or unsure. I’m pasting the phrases below, and a pretty PDF.

1. Can you show me another way?

2. Hmm, I’m thinking, can I take a minute?

3. That’s new for me, but I’d like to learn.

4. I used to think ___, but now I see ___.

5. It’s okay if I don’t get it yet.

6. I got distracted for a second, could you read that part again?

7. I wasn’t listening as well as I should have, can you remind me what happened?

8. I missed that part, can I check the book to find the answer?

9. Hmm, I don’t remember that. Can you help me think it through?

10. Can I try again? I want to listen better this time.

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I’m hoping you’ll consider subscribing. Our TQR community gets first dibs to the podcast and any new resources I make and I’d love to have you join us.

It’s simple, but powerful.
Because the goal isn’t just to raise smart kids, it’s to raise secure ones.
Children who aren’t afraid to pause, admit what they don’t know, and try again.

That’s what bravery looks like in learning. And I think, as moms, we’re learning that too every single day.

This morning felt different. I was up before my 4am alarm (thanks Hatch!) and got a lot of work done before the kids were up, which just made my day so much less stressful!

The kids woke up at 6:30–a new thing we are trying, because I for one, have gotten so tired of night school, when we’re not able to finish school until my work day is done, meaning teaching well past dinner time.

So we’re trying something new, trying to eat the frog and restructure our day.

They gobbled up their breakfast (chocolate oatmeal) with ten quiet minutes to spare before the school day began. We started with Charlotte’s Web, each of us taking turns reading aloud. The light was soft, and everyone seemed settled, present in a way I haven’t felt in a while.

At 7:40, we switched to Swahili time, watching a short story and singing a number song together. Then we went outside for Bible. Asher, who had prayed the salvation prayer with Avery on Saturday, turned to me mid-lesson and said, “But Mom, Tyler didn’t pray that prayer.”

I told him, “Well, Asher, that’s a good reason to tell Tyler what it means, that’s part of being saved. It’s sharing the good news and helping others pray that prayer, too.”

So he did.

Right there, under the morning sky, he led his little brother to Jesus. And as I listened, I knew: this is what we’re really doing here. Not just homeschooling, not just building routines — we’re shaping hearts for eternity.

The rest of the day flowed easily. They did an art class on YouTube, we read Leif the Lucky for history, they practiced copywork, and started our new ELA curriculum — Learning Language Arts Through Literature.

I’d been fighting through finishing the last of The Good and the Beautiful, from last school year, but finally let it go. It was too much fluff, too many distractions. I realized I don’t need a subject to try to do everything. We have a separate art study, a separate geography study — I just wanted language arts to be language arts. And that’s been my discontent with TGATB for a while, there’s so much in it, that you lose the pace for what you really need out of it.

If you’re interested in a full review, please leave a comment down below. I’d be happy to share why we’re transitioning out of it after 5 years of use.

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By 12:00, we were finished. I settled in to finish my work day while they did their independent lessons, and later, we’re gonna head to the park for a well deserved play date.

It was a great day, not because everything was perfect, but because God was in it.

It was the day they were marked, and I think I was too.

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You see, unlike the rest of the Psalms, Psalm 88 doesn’t end with hope. It just ends. And at first I was like, wait, what? Where’s the happy ending, the resolution, the answer, the hope. Is there a hidden part 2?! But no, it just ends.

And you know what, that was the message. Sometimes, things just…suck. Despite your best efforts, loss comes, your heart gets broken, someone will hurt you, you’ll lose what you thought was important, you won’t get closure, and there is no happy ending. No resolution at the end. Like Psalm 88, it just is.

And you know what, that’s OK. I kinda feel like God left this Psalm here unfinished for a reason.

First, to show us that we’re not alone.

Often times, when I go through a painful event, I jump on Google or social media to see how other people dealt with what I’m dealing with. Maybe not the best instinct, I wish I could say my first move was praying about it, and maybe one day I’ll get there, but I think there’s a really human need to know that you’re not alone. That someone else walked through this and made it through to the other side.

That’s what Psalm 88 feels like.

It’s easy to get frustrated when you read the rest of the Psalms and see the pattern: David prayed, and got his answer before the end of the chapter, whether it’s victory from His enemies or assurance of God’s hope. It’s easy to roll our eyes and say, “oh well, good for you David, not all of us were chosen by God to be king.”

Psalm 88 was written by Heman the Ezrahite, and is the only Psalm of his included in the Bible, so there’s no part 2, we don’t know if he got to the light at the end of his tunnel. As it stands, it’s a great reminder that someone else has walked through what we’re walking through: crying out to God in despair, feeling abandoned, questioning God’s presence, not knowing if the light was coming.

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Second, to remind us that even in the darkest nights, He hears us.

This prayer wasn’t forgotten. He kept it in His word. God could’ve said, “woops, forgot that was in there, I don’t even remember who wrote that, this doesn’t fit my narrative.” But He didn’t. In a sea of promise, answered prayers and hope fulfilled, lays Psalm 88.

The Psalmist didn’t think God heard him, but He did. We can talk to Him. He’s here and He hears, even when we don’t feel it. You are not forgotten. The Psalmist refers to God here as Yahweh, the covenant keeping God. That’s who He is.

Even in despair, even in your questions, remind yourself of who God is. He keeps His covenant. He is worth your trust. He hears you.

Third, the Psalmist, didn’t know it yet, but years later, Jesus would pay the price, through His own dark night of the soul, and say the words, “It Is Finished”.

Jesus went through His own dark night of the soul. His friends abandoned him. The people that once laid palms under his feet, and chanted his name, now called for his death and celebrated his murder. The people He was sent to save, mocked him and jeered at him. In his agony, Jesus, who was one with God, cried “my God, why have you forsaken me.”

Did God really forsake Jesus? No. Some people think God turned His face away from him because He couldn’t look upon sin, but I don’t think that’s true, it’s not anywhere in Scripture at least. Jesus, knowing all this, still felt it in his despair. Jesus is well acquainted with our suffering because He felt it all.

There’s a little weird passage in Matthew during the crucifixion, that talks about how when Jesus died, tombs were opened and those inside were raised to life. And I can’t help but think that that was a little nod to the fact that it really is finished. Whether it’s here on earth, or in Heaven. God has the power to bring dead things to life to complete their story. So you see, it’s really not unfinished.

Nothing is incomplete in Him. He won the ultimate victory.

So yes, cry, grieve, do whatever you need to do. That’s OK.

But, hold on to this hope. Your story is not unfinished. Jesus is our hope and He said, “it is finished.”

If you’re walking through your own Psalm 88 season, where the hits just keep on coming, remember this, you are not alone. He hears your prayers. He is right there with you. You are seen, you are heard, and your story is safe in His hands.

Pancakes have always felt like the heart of homemaking to me. Which is why it’s been so frustrating that I could never get them right. For years, I lived off box mixes or gave up after dense, heavy flops. At one point, I even abandoned pancakes altogether and decided waffles were where it’s at, until my waffle iron melted (literally) and I realized how toxic it was.

This year, I was determined to finally figure it out. After months of trial and error: rock hard, dense, flat pancakes, sour discard disasters, and a few “we’re eating them anyway” mornings, you guys, I found the recipe. It all started with a recipe from the cookbook When Southern Women Cook, and the first time I made it, the smell alone felt like home. I’m telling you, that vanilla, buttery smell lingered into the night, and it was amazing!

Of course, I had to make a few tweaks (because I always have sourdough discard on hand), and what came out was soft, buttery, slightly tangy perfection.

How do I know this is a no fail recipe? My kids, bless them, who always add a bucket of maple syrup to my past pancake failures have not asked for syrup any time I’ve made these!

My No Fail, Family Favorite Pancake Recipe (With Sourdough Discard)

Ingredients

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1/4 cup sugar

• 1 ½ tsp baking powder

• ¾ tsp baking soda

• ½ tsp salt (omit if using salted butter)

• ½ cup sourdough discard

• 2 cups buttermilk

• ¼ cup plain Greek yogurt or sour cream

• 2 large eggs

• 3 tbsp melted unsalted butter

• 1 tsp vanilla

• Butter for the griddle

Instructions

1. In a large bowl, whisk 2 cups flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

2. In another bowl, whisk sourdough discard, buttermilk, yogurt, eggs, melted butter, and vanilla.

3. Make a well in the dry ingredients and pour in wet mixture. Stir gently until just combined. The batter should be lumpy, not smooth.

   (If using discard, your batter might be more runny than lumpy depending on the hydration of your starter. You don’t want your batter to spread and turn into a crepe :) If it’s too thin to hold it’s shape on the griddle, add 1-2tbsp of flour.)

4. Let sit 10 minutes.

5. Heat griddle to 250°F (or medium-low on a skillet). Melt a pat of butter until bubbling, then ladle ¼ cup portions of batter.

6. Cook until edges look set and bubbles form, flip, and cook 1–2 minutes more.

Fun Add-Ins

• Sprinkle chocolate chips or blueberries on the batter before flipping.

• Add 1 tsp cardamom, nutmeg, cinnamon, or pumpkin spice for a cozy flavor twist.

• I’ve subbed the sour cream for blended cottage cheese, you’ll miss out on the slight tang you get from sour cream or yogurt but it was a good substitution in a pinch.

There’s a phrase that always circulates when tragedy strikes: “thoughts and prayers aren’t enough.” Usually it’s said as a call for government action or new policies.

I’ll be honest, sometimes I’ve agreed. My heart has carried deep grief, especially around mass shootings. How many innocent children’s lives have ended? There’s only so much sorrow a person can bear. So many have died. So many continue to die. It’s heartbreaking. It’s terrifying.

Part of my heart has been suspended in grief. So when I hear “thoughts and prayers mean nothing,” it lands as hopeless. Because for an average mom like me, all I have is thoughts and prayers.

Then came the assassination of Charlie Kirk. Like many others, I was shaken. I didn’t ask to see it, but scrolling through Instagram, I witnessed his final moments. It traumatized me. I cried. I grieved. I was in disbelief. He was literally here one moment, and gone the next.

And in that moment, I felt the sovereignty of God.
I felt how fleeting life is.
I remembered Jesus’ words: “Which of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?”

More than that, I felt the nearness of Heaven. Maybe it was the collective grief in the atmosphere. Maybe it was hearing others say he was now in the arms of Jesus. Whatever it was, my heart changed.

I realized eternity is greater. Heaven is greater. His presence is greater. And maybe I’m just 1% less afraid of death than I was before September 10th, because I know God holds both my life and my eternity in His hands.

Before that day, I was anxious about death. Now, I find myself glorifying God more. I see how much bigger He is.

And it made me wonder: when people say “thoughts and prayers aren’t enough,” what do they really mean?

Because in the Bible, prayer was enough. Again and again, prayer changed lives, saved nations, healed bodies, and broke chains. How many times did God’s anger burn against a nation, but the prayers of a few righteous men changed His mind? God hasn’t changed. So maybe the problem isn’t Him. Maybe it’s us.

You can’t say “thoughts and prayers aren’t enough” while stripping faith out of public life, silencing prayer in schools, and mocking those who fast and pray. You can’t dismiss prayer when you’ve never opened your Bible, never fasted, never even learned how to pray.

And Christians, how many of us actually pray when disaster strikes? Or do we rush to Instagram comments, quick to correct, critique, and condemn? Imagine the words, “that man doesn’t deserve my grief, that’s his problem,” coming out of a Christian’s mouth. Do you even know Jesus?

The Bible says, “Rend your hearts.” In ancient times, people ripped their clothes, sat in ashes, and cried out to God. And God said: don’t just rip your garments, rip your heart. Humble yourself. Die to your flesh. Stop thinking Christianity owes you something. This is a spiritual war.

This past week, the veil between Heaven and earth was thin. When that happens, those are the moments to fast, pray and sit in His presence. People were stirred back to faith. Some walked into church for the first time. Many were moved to stop compromising and give their lives back to God. And yet, we were busy fighting online. Some pulpits chose to use this moment to call out Charlie Kirk’s policies. To question why the Vice President would attend his funeral.

Do you not see it? God opened a door. Heaven brushed earth. And you were so busy posturing and pandering, you missed it.

There were so many times I wanted to shout: YOU’RE FOCUSING ON THE WRONG THING! God is sovereign. Wake up.

If you don’t believe in prayer…
If your hope is in the world instead of the Word…
If your faith is being spoon-fed through TikTok and YouTube sermons that make you feel good but never call you to repent…
If you refuse to be planted in a local church because it’s messy, imperfect, or uncomfortable…

Then it’s time to get serious.

Because thoughts and prayers have always been enough.
God hasn’t changed.
We have.

So what are you going to do about it?

One of the very first chapter books I ever read aloud to my kids was Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and it was our morning read aloud again this summer.

My kids are now 8, 6, 5 and 2, and it surprised me how quickly they were drawn in this time (well, not so much my 2 year old, ha!) The hunting stories, the Christmas surprises, the fiddle at Grandpa’s dance, going into town… it felt like we had stepped into another time together.

What I love most about Little House in the Big Woods is that it’s both simple and gripping. Each chapter is easy to follow, yet full of lessons in gratitude, wonder, and family life. It quickly became a favorite in our home.

Because it was such a meaningful first read-aloud for us, I put together a gentle literature and language arts study to go along with the book. Something that helped me feel like my school kids were still learning and being engaged with the literature. My goal was to blend comprehension, dictation, narration, and creative work to keep little hands busy so we put some coloring pages and copy work in there as well.

And I want to share the first three chapters of that study with you, completely free. I wanna know how it works for your family. I wanna know if our little family rhythm is helpful for yours, and if maybe I should share what we do for next 5 books we’re studying this year.

Inside the 3-week sample, you’ll find:

• A Parent Guide with summaries, comprehension questions, and vocabulary lists

• A Student Workbook with copy work (both print + cursive), dictation, and coloring pages

• Extras like a pioneer timeline and character charts

  Download the free 3-week study here

Whether you’re just starting with read-alouds, or looking for a gentle way to weave literature into your homeschool days, I hope this guide blesses your family as much as it has mine.

Happy reading,
Joanie

P.S. I share more homeschool rhythms, gentle resources, and faith-filled encouragement here each week. If you’d like more ideas for bringing beauty and learning into your days, make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss the next resource.

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Tell it to your children, and their children after them.

Your faith isn’t failing because God has changed.
It’s weary because you’ve stopped remembering what He’s already done.

The Bible calls us over and over to remember His faithfulness and to tell it to our children and their children. Because when we do, He’s no longer just “a god out there somewhere.” He becomes our God. The same God who carried Abraham, Joshua, Esther, and the widow with the jars… is the One carrying you now.

Remember the shepherd boy He made courageous.
Remember the barren wombs He blessed.
Remember the broken women He redeemed.
Remember the debts He paid.
And yes, remember the 500 sq. ft. apartment He provided for, when you thought you’d have nowhere to go.

So pause. Remember. Tell it again.
That’s where strength is found.

Scripture for the Week

“We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done.”

Psalm 78:4

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Prayer for the Weary Mom

Lord,
We come to You weary, with hands full of invisible work and hearts that feel heavy. Thank You that You are the same yesterday, today, and forever. You have never stopped being faithful.

Help us to remember.
Remind us of the shepherd boy You made courageous.
The widow whose jars never ran dry.
The barren wombs You blessed.
The debts You paid.
And the 500 sq. ft. apartment You provided when we thought we’d have nowhere to go.

Let us not forget Your goodness, Lord.
Help us tell the story of Your faithfulness to our children, and their children, so they too may know You as our God—not just a name on a page, but the Living God who provides, redeems, and carries His people.

When we feel weak, draw us back to You.
Let our strength be found not in striving, but in remembering.
Not in fear, but in faith.
Not in Egypt, but in Your presence.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I’d wake up already behind, kids asking what to do next, someone crying about socks, cereal bowls half-full, and me wondering why we couldn’t just find a groove.

But this year, I decided to change one small thing:
I swapped screen time charts and sticker reward systems… for a $20 menu cover and a printable.

Enter: our Morning Menu.

It’s nothing fancy, just a rotating checklist for each day of the week with a truth to anchor the day (“I am growing in wisdom, kindness, and strength.” Yes, even before breakfast 🍳).

Each morning, the kids flip to their day, trace their name, check off what’s done, and go at their own pace, no more shouting across the house for what’s next.

It’s become one of our quiet anchors.

✨ Want your own?
I’m sharing our Canva templates for free below so you can edit them with your family’s names, routines, and rhythms.

🖨️ Print them.
📋 Slip them into a menu cover.
✍🏾 Let your kids dry-erase, trace, or decorate.

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This is the kind of tool that asks for nothing but gives so much — peace, ownership, and a little rhythm to start your day well.

If you try it, I’d love to see! Tag me or reply to this post and let me know how it’s working in your home.

Download the free Canva templates

Rooting for your rhythms,
Jo

When peace becomes the fruit, not the goal.

I’ve been sitting with Isaiah 32 this week, and it’s one of those chapters that quietly rearranges you.

It begins with a promise “a king will reign in righteousness.” And the more I read it, the more I saw Jesus.

Not just in the future fulfillment, but in the here and now, reigning over the dry places of my life, calling justice to dwell in my home, planting peace as something deeper than a feeling… more like a fruit.

“The effect of righteousness will be peace,
and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.” (v. 17)

That line keeps echoing for me. Because if I’m honest, I’ve spent a lot of time chasing peace as if it were something I had to manufacture, something I had to get right in order to deserve. But Isaiah reminds us: peace isn’t something we strive for. It’s something that grows when we let God reign.

It comes when we stop gathering in fear, stop building in our own strength, and let the Spirit be poured out on the dry ground.

So here’s my journal prompts for the week:

• Am I letting peace be the fruit, or am I trying to force it as a goal?

• What does it look like for justice and righteousness to dwell in my home?

• Where in my life does God want to exchange striving for stillness?

If you’ve been in a wilderness: emotionally, spiritually, even practically, Isaiah 32 holds a quiet promise:

“The wilderness becomes a fruitful field.”

Not because we fixed it. But because He reigns.

Come sit with me in this passage, and let’s ask God to rain down on the dry places again.

Scripture for the Week

“My people will live free from worry
in secure homes and quiet resting places.”

Isaiah 32:18 (TPT)

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Prayer for Rain on Dry Ground

Heavenly Father, make us women who dwell secure
Not in comfort or control, but in trust.
Let us be women at rest, women who wait in quietness and confidence.
Not because we have it all together,
but because we know the One who holds all things together.

When fear rises, calm us.
When we strive, still us.
When the enemy whispers that our work is unseen or unworthy,
remind us that You see everything.
And You are building something eternal in the hidden places.

Let us rise as women of wisdom,
who see clearly and listen deeply,
whose hearts are aligned with heaven,
and whose hands are open to serve.

We love You, Lord.
Reign in our hearts, and rain on the dry ground.
Amen.

I am Mary and I am Martha.
I want to be still, and still, I strive.

I chose the better thing.
I laid it all down and came to sit at His feet.

But still, I am anxious. Still, I worry.

I am Peter, stepping out in faith.
I am Simon, eyes on the waves.

I am David, aching for His presence.
I am Solomon, leaning on my own understanding.

I said yes to the quiet.
But the quiet is not always calm.

And yet, He meets me here.
In the tension.
In the trying.
In the “I believe, help my unbelief.”

Maybe this is what trust really looks like:
Not the absence of wrestling,
But choosing to stay at His feet anyway.

If this met you where you are, would you reply and let me know? You don’t need the perfect words, just a “me too” will do.

I see you.

And more importantly…He sees you.

He has given us a sound mind. His joy, is our strength.

I woke up this morning feeling the weight of it. The unseen battle happening beneath the surface, beliefs being shaped, voices being followed, seeds being planted.

We won’t always have the right words.
We won’t always model it perfectly.
But thankfully, in spite of us, God is faithful.

His Spirit fills the gaps between our intention and our reality.
His presence hovers over our homes even when we forget to ask.

It’s not just about managing behavior or limiting screen time. It’s about praying their minds into peace. Praying their hearts into joy. Praying their spirits into refuge. Both now, and for their future selves.

Because joy isn’t just a feeling.
It’s a fortress. Joy is being hidden under His wings. His joy is our shield.

So we ask the Lord to plant truth where lies once took root. That the Holy Spirit would fill the atmosphere with peace where anxiety used to live. That God would make our homes a place where His voice is easy to hear.

We don’t fight flesh and blood. But we are not without weapons.

Prayer is our strategy. The Holy Spirit is our help. And His joy is our strength.

Scripture for the Week
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear,
but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV)

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Prayer for Our Children’s Minds
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the promise of a sound mind.
We lift up our children to You and ask You to shape their thoughts, their beliefs, their identity in You.

Let Your truth take root where lies have tried to grow.
Fill our homes with Your tangible presence and Your peace.
May joy flood every corner, strong, healing and holy.

Guard our children’s minds from fear.
Protect them from comparison, confusion, and despair.
Give them ears to hear Your voice, clearer than all the noise around them.

And Lord, make us, as their parents, faithful.
Help us speak words that build, not break.
Make us women of prayer, and carriers of Your Peace.
Fill our homes with Your Spirit, and lead us in the way everlasting.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Music by Yoni Charis

Thank you for being here. I’ll see you again next Monday, 9 AM CT.
Until then, stay rooted. Stay prayerful. Stay connected.
You’re not alone.

Have a prayer request? Leave it below, and we’ll pray for you next week.

You can download the PDF here ˏˋ ↓ ˎˊ

If Part 1 was the heart, the reminder that you’re not behind, and it’s not too late, this part is the hands and feet.

Maybe you’ve already tried all the things. Maybe you’ve been doing your best, and school still feels heavy. This isn’t a reset for the curriculum. It’s a reorientation of trust toward wonder, connection, and delight again.

This 4-week rhythm isn’t a checklist to master. It’s an invitation to notice what’s working, shift what’s not, and slowly rebuild a learning atmosphere where your child feels safe, seen, and supported.

Let’s create a month that restores more than routine. Let’s rebuild relationship, reading trust, and rhythms that point back to joy.

4-Week Plan to Reignite Wonder

Each week focuses on rebuilding relationship + rhythm + reading trust, so school becomes less of a checklist and more of a journey.

📅 Week 1 – “Let’s Fall in Love with Story Again”

Focus: Cozy connection + let books work their magic

Rhythm:

• 20–30 min of read-aloud each morning (The Little Pilgrim’s Progress or Tumtum & Nutmeg)

• Audiobook of Green Ember during independent play or LEGO time

• Start a “Reading Spot” together, let them decorate a cozy corner, or pick a blanket, or have a special snack that’s always for reading e.g I know some moms that do tea and scones, and light a candle for read alouds, which sounds so idyllic. Maybe it’s turning on background music, a cool soundtrack. Whatever it is for your family, find something special.

Goal: Make books feel safe and full of possibility, not pressure.

📅 Week 2 – “Learning is Wonder”

Focus: Let them lead with curiosity

Rhythm:

• Let them pick 1 topic of interest (bugs? baseball? inventions?)

• Make an adventure out of going to the library to find books on that topic. Get really good at searching your local catalog or asking your librarian for help, that’s what they are there for!!!

• Create a short 3-day mini unit: watch a documentary, read a picture book, do one simple craft

• Reading continues as morning time + audiobook

Goal: Show them learning is not about checklists and curriculums, it’s about loving to explore.

📅 Week 3 – “You Were Made for This”

I’ll spend a bit more time on this one because this is the bread and butter, and the whole reason why homeschooling exists. This is the one part that schools often miss, and you can do this whether your child schools at home or away.

Focus: Speak identity over them

Rhythm:

• Begin short reading lessons 1-on-1

• Celebrate effort, not outcome (stickers, Lego bucks, or just lots of affirming words)

• Begin a “Courage Journal” (3 lines a day, drawn or written: “What brave thing did I try today?”)

Goal: Connect reading and schoolwork to their character, not their competence.

Instead of saying:

“Wow, you’re so smart!”
“You read that perfectly!”
“You’re ahead of your grade level!”

We begin to say:

“You kept going, even when it felt tricky. That’s courage.”
“You asked for help when you didn’t understand. That’s wisdom.”
“You read to your sister so kindly. That’s love in action.”
“You tried again. That shows perseverance.”
“You made space to listen. That’s humility.”

Because here’s the truth:

Competence can come and go.
Some days a child will soar; other days, they’ll struggle.

But character is steady.
It’s what carries them through when the lesson is hard, the book feels boring, or their brain is just tired.

Why This Matters for Reluctant Learners?

Bright, sensitive kids may have already internalized some beliefs like:

• “I’m bad at school.”

• “Reading is hard for me.”

• “I’ll never be as fast as [insert sibling or classmate].”

But when we anchor the learning experience in virtue, they begin to see:

“Even if I didn’t get it right away, I was brave.”
“Even when it was hard, I stayed with it. That’s strength.”
“Even if I’m not the fastest reader, I can be the most faithful one.”

The long-term fruit:

Children who learn this way don’t just do school well, they do life well.

They become adults who:

• Can face something unknown and keep trying

• Aren’t afraid to ask questions

• Know their worth isn’t tied to how quickly they master something

• Value who they are becoming more than what they can produce

📅 Week 4 – “You’re Becoming a Reader”

Focus: Ownership + celebration

Rhythm:

• Pick a “just-right” reader they can try on their own.

• Create a Reading Passport or punch card, track books or chapters read. My kids love scanning their books on Beanstack, and seeing who has the longest streak.

• Let them read aloud to a younger sibling or a stuffed animal (build confidence)

Goal: End the month with a small “Reader’s Celebration” e.g cocoa, a new bookmark, and a bookshop date.

Maybe it won’t all click in four weeks. Maybe it’ll be messy, or slow, or full of surprises. But even slow fruit is still fruit.

You’re not behind, you’re rebuilding. And that is holy work.

Let this be the month you look back on and say: “That’s when we started finding our way back to joy.”

If this 4-week plan brings some peace or clarity, I’d love to hear what worked for your family. Or if you’re still deep in the trenches, I’m praying for fresh strength for you this week.

Let’s look at this not just as “fixing school,” but as rebuilding trust. Somewhere along the way, school stopped feeling like wonder and started feeling like pressure. So your mission this year? Restore delight. Restore dignity. Restore desire.

Here’s how we start:

1. Start with Identity, Not Achievement

Your child needs to know that school isn’t about performance, it’s about becoming. Try saying this to them often:

“You are incredibly smart, and God made your mind to do amazing things. School isn’t about finishing worksheets. It’s about discovering what God put inside you.”

You’re sowing seeds here. Not every moment has to feel magical, but the tone of your words and presence can make them feel safe and seen again.

2. Rebuild Reading as Relationship

Let’s stop calling it “reading time.” Let’s call it “Story Hour,” or something cozy and inviting.

Make it about connection.

Here are a few ideas:

1. Let them stay up 30 minutes later with a book light and a book in bed, let it feel special.

2. Start reading a series together that hooks them in (I’ll list some great in a future post).

Pick a book where the hero, is similar to them and they can see themselves in the story. Let them fall in love with someone else’s world before they knows how to build their own.

3. Work with Their Wiring

If they're bright but school feels boring, you may have a gifted or exceptional learner who needs more challenge or different formats.

Try:

1. Audiobooks with graphic novels as a follow-up.

2. Short, high-impact lessons (15-20 min max) visual timers are great

3. Interest-led unit studies: Dinosaurs? Baseball? Inventions? Let them drive.

When they see that school can match their curiosity, the resistance starts to fade.

4. Use the 3:1 Delight Ratio

Every one hard thing (reading aloud, handwriting, math) should be followed by three things that delight:

1. Something they love learning about

2. Something they feel good at

3. Something you do together

Example:

• Math lesson

• Drawing their favorite Pokémon or building a new LEGO set

• Listening to an audiobook together

• Snack and recess outside

Let the joy lead.

5. Pray Over Their Mind

Ask God to reignite their curiosity. To lift any shame from past school experiences. To help you see them not just as your student, but as a soul-in-training.

You’re not behind, friend. You’re on holy ground. Make this the year of rebuilding wonder.

But, What If I’ve Tried All This & Nothing Is Working?!

Oh friend, that right there, that’s the heart of it. And you’re not failing. You’re discerning. And that’s the first step to wisdom.

What you’re feeling isn’t a lack of ability, it’s the weight of trying to mother and mentor and manage, all at once, without a strong enough rhythm to hold it up. And without rhythm, it all feels like reaction.

But what if I told you…
👉🏼 You can build a rhythm that serves you and Asher?
👉🏼 That this isn’t about doing more, but doing less, better?

Let’s slow it all down and reframe the problem:

THE REAL CHALLENGE:

You’re probably a mom of many, trying to pour from a cup that’s already half-spilled by the time you get to the child who most needs the overflow.

The truth is, your child is likely not hard to teach, they are just hard to reach when you’re already tired. (Please extend grace for the generalization, I realize a lot of us mother children with special needs who may not necessarily fall under the scope of this post.)

THE SOLUTION:

A Morning Block Schedule + “Together Time” first

This will:

• Restore your energy flow (start with the hardest heart first)

• Reduce the FOMO (everyone gets “special time”)

• Cut down time in half by batching together some learning

• Bring your child back to the center, where he feels seen again

TIPS TO MAKE THIS WORK

1. Prep the day before: Set out each child’s materials in their own bin so it’s grab-and-go.

2. Simplify the curriculum: Focus on the core: reading, writing, language. And build out from there.

3. Use a visual schedule: Show them when their time is coming. This builds anticipation instead of frustration. This also helps reluctant learners feel a bit of control, when they know the routine and what to expect.

4. Reward effort, not outcomes: A punch card, sticker, or even a cozy cocoa can mark progress.

5. Guard mornings like gold: No phone. No distraction. That first hour is sowing roots, not just results.

And For You, Mama…

I’d love to gently challenge you to start with you before the kids each morning. Even 15 minutes.

Light a candle.
Open the Word.
Ask the Lord: “Who needs my full heart today?”

The truth is, these last 3 points probably summarize this whole post.

I know there’s a subset of parents who don’t see any fruit in getting up before their kids. But, for me, the days where everything seems to fall apart, are 90% of the time linked to my own lack of discipline in these 3 areas. The secret to disciplined and consistent kids is disciplined and consistent moms.

Children are wired for routines. Busy moms with a lot on their plate, not so much. Commit your own discipline and consistency to the Lord…meaning, lean on Him for strength, and do what you can to hold on to that strength when He gives it to you.

Remember the fruit of your homeschool isn’t found in how fast they read or how many subjects you cover. It’s found in the peace of the home and the presence you offer.

Update: Check out Part 2 of this post: