As I watch her dance to the African tribal music streaming from her keyboard, I become a little choked up because Johanna has so much potential. It’s apparent in everything she does. I’m blessed to be able to be home with her every day, to teach her, mold her, and watch her blossom in a variety of ways. She is exactly what pure joy looks like and sometimes that overwhelms me. I want so much to do right by her, to not fail at this task that God has given me of raising her. A winding, bumpy road lead me to my God given path of being a homeschooling parent, and I don’t take that for granted at all. I want to do well at this job. I want the Lord to be pleased with me in this job. And I really, really, don’t want to crush or bruise this child while I’m doing this job.
She has so many questions, usually to which I respond “ask Mr. Google” in jest. She’s curious about so much, and loves to do so many different things. She was recently stressed because she didn’t know what she wanted to do when she grew up. I told her that’s ok because neither do I. Then suddenly, it comes to her. She looks at me and tells me she wants to stay home with her kids, just like me, when she grows up. And it makes me sad. I want to tell her absolutely not. That she’s so much more than that. That she is so much more brilliant than that. Then I wonder if that’s what my mother would think of me. Is that how she would feel about me becoming a homeschooling mom. Would she be proud? Would she understand the need for the sacrifice? That the shaping of my children’s character and morals are so much more. That these kids today are faced with choices and messages that she never dreamed they would be. That society is constantly trying to tell them to be everything except Godly and I have to combat that. I’m willing to give up the hard work that was put into the degrees to make sure that I give my children a fighting chance spiritually. I’m proud of that. I guess I just never thought about my own child taking that route herself. I don’t really know how to navigate these feelings I have. I feel like I’m putting myself down whenever I think “but my God little girl, you can be so much more!” Maybe it’s because she dreams bigger than I ever dreamed. She wants to be an astronaut, a ballerina veterinarian, a princess. She wants to be a surgeon, a musician, a builder. When I was her age I wanted to be a teacher. That eventually turned into a detective, then an actress, a nun, and then…confusion. If I could do any job besides homeschooling right now it would be a missionary or event planner. I never loved science and math the way she does. Never wondered so much about how stuff worked. She does. She asks me challenging questions that make me seriously run to Mr. Google. Her eyes light up when she takes in nature, especially the moon and birds. Her potential is overflowing. And she loves the Lord. She loves learning about God, and going to church, and learning scripture. It all just makes my heart so full.
Maybe it’s not that I’m ashamed of where I am in life, or what I do for a career. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want her to box herself in. I want her to know that her options are plenty. I know her talk of what she wants to do when she’s an adult is just talk and she will change her mind a million more times before she ever crosses that bridge. I just want her know that she can be something even more amazing than I’ve ever been. That she can do so much. You know, if she ends up being a SAHM, that’s a beautiful thing, but if she becomes a rocket scientist, that’s pretty darn cool too.