Our week has been a whirlwind. My sister-in-law came
home from India for a short visit, we have a family wedding this weekend, and
by some calamity everyone we know has recently been under the weather…we’ve
been fighting sniffles and throat scratchiness all week.
Regardless of everyone being a little worse for the
wear, it’s been great to have Carli here this week. Austen is making up for
lost time as quickly as possible—starting with pelting Carli with confetti eggs
that first morning!
In the midst of everything busy and hectic happening
this week, Austen did something astonishing. Right in the middle of our crazy,
she started READING.
Reading!!
We’ve talked about letters since she was a tiny
babe, those fundamental bits of knowledge that we hoped she would soon commit to
memory and keep for always, making them a part of our play, a part of our
lives. She was quick to speak as a baby, quick to know those ABCs, quick to
love books of any thickness, quick to settle into daily “reading” as a favorite
pastime.
All the while, I suspected that she intuitively
understood me when I talked about letters and sounds during playtimes and car
rides and waiting rooms. I had no idea. Our educational play led us to a moment
this week when Austen looked over my shoulder at the alphabet magnets on the
refrigerator, letters I was swirling around to form short words. She looked
them over casually, sounded each one out easily, announcing the words in front
of her with lightning quick smiles: “Foxes! Math. Kids! Lids. Cars. Lips. Win.
Me…”
She read them as interestedly as I formed them
quickly, a quick study at a game I did not know that she knew. I held my
breath, waiting to see how far we could stretch. “Rug. Pug. The. Good. Not…”
She’s read two sight-word readers since then.
I’m feeling the weight of this unexpected gift, a
skill we never dared to expect until I had somehow established a regular daily “school
time” and pressed hard for it. It is so beautiful that Austen has discovered
words and the sounds that make them, and I’m overwhelmed thinking of the world
before her, suddenly ready to take her all the literary places I traveled to as
a child. It’s this sudden success that has revitalized me, given me a burst of
blessed energy for the task ahead, and I know I will need it. The road ahead—that
of curating this collection of words and sounds and encouraging progress and (oh,
mercy!) handwriting—will require patience and understanding that already feels
beyond my limits.
And, oh, I needed this beautiful gift, this sudden
new zeal in my heart for teaching my little. Can I be authentic here, just in
this tiny space? Teaching Austen to read felt like an Everest-sized chore ahead
of me. I wasn’t feeling pressured by her age; she is only three. But I was
thinking about my desire to teach her at home in the future, looking at the preschool
curriculum schedules I had already created and never managed to stick with, and looking
at the weekly tasks I already struggle to accomplish, and I wondered to myself…How? How does anyone learn to read? How does
any parent find the time to prioritize this over tasks that feel more urgent?
How does any child with a normal-range attention span sit still and absorb
information about letters and sounds and word formation? How does any mother
actually teach her child to read?
Isn’t it beautiful when God knows your feeling of
panic before you have even fully formed it or have been able to acknowledge to
yourself that it exists? I had my expectations full of “real” reading
curriculum, scheduled school time, and gorgeous child cooperation, and God met
me unexpectedly with a gift during playtime. I wish I could take credit for
Austen’s reading. But in a way, I really am glad that I can say that God guided
us to this point. He can clearly help us move forward without any of my “help”
(i.e. panic).
In the meantime, I am reminded of the parable of the
talents in the New Testament:
“For
it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted
to them his property. To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to
each according to his ability. Then he went away. He who had received the five
talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more. So also he who had the
two talents made two talents more. But he who had received the one talent went and dug
in the ground and hid his master's money. Now after a long time the master of those
servants came and settled accounts with them.” (Matthew 25:14-19)
It is so intimidating as a parent to know that God
has “entrusted to [us] His property.” Our kids are His, not ours, and we are
called to stewardship of those precious souls. As a mom, I try always to be
intentional about so many things—caring for my child physically, emotionally, spiritually,
intellectually, etc—but the more things that I learn and try to incorporate
into our daily parenting, the more I realize that we are all operating on grace
anyway. It can easily feel like WAY too much to handle, much less accomplish
well. I’ve definitely heard myself say, “I’m making this parenting thing up as
I go!” to people who have asked questions about the way I parent. Nobody wants
to be the lazy servant who buries the master’s property, and I know I certainly
don’t, even when I am feeling totally overwhelmed. But God leads me again to
this passage, reminding me that He gifts “to each according to His ability.” He
has not given me more than I am capable of handling. He hasn’t given you more
than you can steward well, if you determine to do so. And sometimes, some
beautiful times, He rolls up His sleeves right along with us and a child
miraculously learns to read.
Shouldn't we make a
commitment to ourselves today to do less panic and more Godly purpose in our
parenting?
Yup. This is a reminder to myself, people.
<3, Courtlandt
