Little House on the Tundra (again)

As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” I Peter 1:14-16

I know for lots of people, the “former lusts” which sometimes haunt them are things that others see as obvious sins. For me, that isn’t true. The “former lusts” with which I struggle are those parts of my personality which have made me very successful in my career as an educator—being driven to succeed, being a perfectionist, having a need to be in charge and control, being an organized leader. On the surface, none of these seem like terrible things which God frowns upon. And of themselves, they’re not. But for me, combined together, they have made for a life that has been very successful from the world’s point of view, but not terribly successful from the point of view of the Biblical standard for women.

The most difficult part of being in Russia for me has not been the weather or the language or the time it takes to get things done or the homesickness I sometimes feel for home and my parents. The most difficult thing has been the absolute loss of my identity or at least what I considered my identity. You know what? No one here cares that I can sing—most people here can sing. No one here cares that I have been super teacher in the past. No one is fighting to get their kids into my class—the only kids in my class are the three I gave birth to. You know who they’re really excited about being here? Marc. Marc is the one they prayed for all these years. I’m not saying people aren’t happy I’m here, because they are, and I am making some great friends. What I’m saying is that the skill set that Marc brings to the field is the reason we’re here. For the first time in my life, I am taking a backseat to what Marc can do. I am in the support position. For years, he did lots of things so I could be the kind of teacher I wanted to be. Now, it’s my turn. And it’s hard. It’s really, really hard. I am a home schooling housewife, and I’m telling you, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Little by little—and some days, in great big chunks—God is stripping me of all the stuff that I had built up in my mind as success. Success used to be high scores on the AP exam or awards for my teaching or applause for a song well sung. These days, success is a good meal or a particularly good family movie night or a lesson that went well for one of the kids. Success is getting them to school for p.e. and being able to explain to the security guard in a very simple sentence what we’re doing there. Success is finding a Christmas present at a price I can afford. Success is getting up early and having my quiet time so that when Marc gets up the coffee is ready. Success is snuggling with John-John before he goes to sleep and having him put his skinny little arm over me and tell me that he loves me very much. Success is seeing my kids make friends. Success is watching Hannah finally settle into being here. Success looks really, really different for me these days. But can I tell you this? For all the success I have enjoyed in my life, none has been as sweet as the daily victories of a family life that is becoming more successful every day. None has been as sweet as watching my children start to thrive in their schoolwork. None has been as sweet as having breakfast and dinner together every day and night, and actually having the energy to sit down and talk with each person about what has happened in their day. It’s hard, and it’s so much work, but daily God is changing me more and more into the person He sees when He looks at me, and less and less like the person I used to be.

So here’s the rub: I have an offer to teach at the Christian school. It’s a great school, and I love the people there. I am enjoying taking the kids Tuesday and Thursday for p.e., lunch, and recess. And basically, I can have my choice of schedules. I can start an AP class there, something I’ve done for years and know how to do. And the kids could go to school there full-time. It’s a tempting offer. But here’s what I’m praying through, and if you read this, I’d ask that you pray through it with me. Going back to teaching full-time outside my home is going to drag me away from what I’m learning to be here. It’s going to take me away from home schooling the kids. It’s going to take my focus from my home and place it elsewhere. Is that what God wants for me and my family? Or is He making such a change in me that I can now magically do what I could not do in the past—focus on my job when I’m at my job, but maintain my focus on my home, too. Pray with me about this. I am very, very torn. I would love some feedback. If you don’t feel comfortable leaving a comment, you can email me at hooksfamily@everyheart.net.

Okay, so the story behind the title—I grew up reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and watching the tv show, and I loved both immensely. In fact, I used to play Little House and Waltons all the time when I was younger. (I can hear you snickering. It’s not polite.) So as I walked the mile to the metro and the mile and a half to the school yesterday in the driving wind and pouring snow, it occurred to me that all those years of reading those books was finally paying off, for now I could honestly say that I had walked two miles in the snow uphill both ways to school. :o)

I love you guys so much. I hope that you have a wonderful day and weekend. I pray that whatever you are doing, you will look a little more each day the person God sees when He looks at you. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye