er big brown eyes welled up with tears. Our oldest child was six. She was learning to read, but we were at a point where she was frustrated and I had insisted that she keep going. I told myself when we decided to homeschool that if my young children indicated to me that they were feeling done with a lesson, I wouldn’t push. I wanted them to love learning, and I knew pushing would not end well because pressure snuffs out learning.

Nonetheless, here I was, acting out of fear and bringing our young daughter to tears. I never forgot that day, and as we added seven more children to our family, my resolve grew stronger to let this learning thing begin and continue naturally, following their cues. Often that meant they weren’t doing some things as quickly as I would have liked, but I knew that I needed to trust whatever natural course seemed a good fit for each of them. I found that when kids are ready, learning can often happen so quickly that it’s hard to keep up!

Our early homeschool days were relaxed and full of wonder. Of course, with eight kids, chaos erupted occasionally, but overall it was pretty peaceful. Much time was spent playing outside, turning over rocks, examining bugs, taking walks, noticing changes in nature, sledding, and biking, or inside, baking and reading books together, experiencing all the wonderful things that childhood should include. Children are so curious and ready to learn about the world around them. It can be very tempting as parents to always insist on a results-driven outcome.

ave you ever had a day when you wake up and everything you look at or think about can only be viewed by what’s wrong or missing? Small things seem insurmountable. Your focus is on the lack. It makes the child’s bad attitude toward his brother seem so pervasive that it’s hard to remember a time when he has been kind to his sibling. The dirty floor and cluttered counter feel like giant flashing roadsigns signaling what you knew to be true all along: Life has spun out of control and just as you suspected, it’s because you’re not enough.

It’s almost as if your eyes themselves have been coated with a filter that twists everything you see. This coating, if left to itself, becomes your perspective. One that sees circumstances through the lens of hopelessness. I know that word seems overly dramatic here, but if you think about it, that really is at the root. Because if you had hope, you wouldn’t only be seeing what’s wrong and then combining it with that feeling of I don’t know how this will change. That’s hopelessness.

If praise and worship are the language of heaven, what might the language sound like that points the other way? It would have to be complaining, grumbling, no hope, no faith. Ugh. Just think about what these words and attitudes release into our midst.

he peace we’re going to talk about isn’t the absence of hard circumstances and never experiencing pain, conflict, or any other type of struggle. If peace were based on perfection it would never happen.

So what does it mean for us to step into peace when it comes to homeschooling?

It’s about creating an atmosphere that supports learning because it gives children a firm foundation to stand on no matter what.

rocess art, where the emphasis lies on the journey of creation rather than the final product, is a cornerstone of child development. It offers a unique opportunity to nurture children’s natural curiosity and foster a love for creative expression through hands-on exploration.

I vividly recall speaking at a conference on this topic. After the session, a father approached me and shared his own artistic history. As a child, he had a strong desire to become an artist and enjoyed spending time creating. However, once he entered school, a teacher harshly criticized his work. This profoundly impacted him, not only causing him to abandon his dream of becoming an artist, but also extinguishing his interest in art altogether. This heartbreaking experience highlights the importance of supporting children’s artistic explorations. As homeschool parents, we have the opportunity to nurture a love for art and discovery by understanding the significant benefits of process art.

But first, let’s differentiate between process art and product art. Process art involves providing children with various art materials and allowing them the freedom to explore and experiment with those materials as they see fit. It means that as parents, our only expectation of the art is that the child explores with the materials. What they create or how they create it is up to them.

ver notice how both your challenging attitudes and your children’s seem to feed off each other? In those moments when power struggles hijack your homeschool day, there’s actually something deeper happening. Something that, once you see it, changes everything about how you respond to each other. This is about creating the kind of relationship you’ve always hoped for—one where both you and your children feel understood, supported, and truly connected.

You know that moment. Your sweet child suddenly morphs into an eye-rolling drama machine, and there you are again trying to stay calm while your child’s attitude is pushing every button you have. Somehow, the more you try to keep it together, the more the attitude seems to escalate.

What if I told you that attitudes—both yours and your children’s—are actually revealing something completely different than most of us realize? Seeing these moments in a new way can transform your daily homeschool life, just like it transformed ours.

ermafrost is ground that stays frozen all year long. It is found in areas where the temperatures stay cold enough to keep the ground frozen every year, all the time.

You might live in an area with very cold weather, and the ground is frozen from November through March (or thereabouts). Ground has to be frozen continuously for two years to be considered permafrost.

ong ago, I was newly married, kidless, and a new pastor at a small country church in rural Indiana. I met a little, wrinkled, old farmer named Walter. He spoke slowly and with unsettling gaps between his thoughts. It was one of my first Sundays at the church, and I vividly remember our first conversation.

“How long have you gone to this church?” I asked, looking down into his face.

Long pause. I was about to repeat myself when he finally spoke, like he was coming out of a trance. “My wife and I are charter members.”

“Wow, that’s a long time,” I responded. “Is your wife here today?”

Pause. “No, she stayed home because she’s been sick,” he said flatly.