Still a Mystery to Me

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“…the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints.  To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” -Colossians 1:26-27

I sit, my back against the concrete, my face warmed by the afternoon glow of the sun.  The afternoon is quite warm for a November in the Midwest, but the pleasant weather allows me an escape from the looming cloud of finals.  As my Christmas music plays through my earbuds, I think back on the semester, and God’s goodness revealed in it.

God has done so much in my life this year, and it brings me to tears just thinking about all of it.  He started by showing me my need for growth in areas I was not even looking.  He has given me a deeper love for scripture, not just the knowledge of scripture, but how the Word of God can impact my heart and life.  I have drawn so much closer to my Lord and Savior.  I have seen the power of the gospel work in people’s lives, and watch people whom I never would have picked be drawn to the Lord.  I have been overwhelmed by the love of my family, both my biological family and my church family.

As for outreach, God has softened my heart to the nations, and I have physically wept over people groups who, “are without hope of God in the world.” (Ephesians 2:12)  The Holy Spirit has comforted me multiple times concerning the perfection of God’s timing in the salvation of lost friends.  I have been able to disciple a younger believer in her faith.  I have been able to council others in ways I could not have imagined, and have been able to show hospitality to the international students and freshmen at my university.

While I have been overwhelmed by the work of God this semester, I have also had my lows.  I have had my sin struggles, and valleys in which I have felt tired or unworthy.  Yet in it all, I have found that God’s love is greater.  The deeper I dive into the love of God, the more I am astounded by it.  I am such a sinful, unthankful, discontent woman, often acting more like the rebellious nation of Israel than a saint and daughter of the King.  “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ, for by grace you have been saved.” (Ephesians 2:6)

I am still amazed by the love and grace of God.  I do not understand it.  How can a God so perfect and holy, whom I have betrayed and rejected and forgotten still want me?  I had denied the perfect One whom I was created to know, whom my very existence was meant to glorify, and yet He did not let me go.  He pursued me, like an insane, faithful man would pursue a promiscuous wife.  Not only that, but once I came to know His love and repent from my old ways, He gave me a purpose and future.  I do not understand this mystery, and yet I am in the middle of it.  I am wrapped in a blanket of God’s love like an unborn child is surrounded by the whom of His mother, unable to fully see it or touch it, and yet it is what gives me life.

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Perfection Vs. Excellence

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This post is a good reminder for everyone who struggles with perfectionism or wants to be motivated toward excellence. Source: Perfection Vs. Excellence

I hope this was an encouragement for your day as it was for mine.

“Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.” – Colossians 3:1 NASB

Between Two Homes

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Coming back home from my Spring semester of college, I have a lot of stuff.  There are crates, totes, and boxes full of clothes, books, and decor.  I do not think it will ever get completely unpacked.  I’m also leaving for the summer to go on a missions trip, so I will just be packing some stuff right back up again.

It feels like I am in a state of constant transition, needing to be ready to leave at any time.  This stage reminds me of how Christians are supposed to be in the world, but not of it, remembering that this world is not our home and that we should be ready at any time for Christ’s return.

“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.” -1 Peter 2:11

We are visitors on this earth, we no longer belong, we are to no longer be concerned with the passions of the world, but with the things of Christ.  When I came home, I realized how much stuff I had that I did not need, junk that was weighing me down.  As Christians, we should realize how much baggage we tend to carry with us from our life before Christ.  There are things in life that I held on to when I was less sanctified that God has taught me to let go of and trust to Him.

So, like college students switching getting ready for adult life away from their childhood home, so should Christians be ready to leave at any moment for their home with Christ.  In the world, but not with it.

 

Right to Life

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“That they are endowed by their Creator with certain, Inalienable Rights.  That among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” – Thomas Jefferson

Over 7 million Americans have been stripped of life before given a chance to live it since 1973.  Each killing has been pronounced “legal” by the American justice system.  Yes, I am talking about legal abortion in the United States of America, the “Land of Opportunity.”

I am a college student, and for the past two days, a pro-life organization has been on my campus, displaying posters that reveal the horrors of abortion.  It’s hard to miss, it’s in the middle of campus.  I hear the discussion around me every time I pass it.  I am thankful for the people raising awareness about the crisis of the unborn.  I talked to one of the volunteers yesterday and heard about her passion for life and her desire to raise awareness, especially for women who could find themselves in an unplanned pregnancy. I signed under “yes” in their poll asking whether or not abortion should be illegal.

I do not get too upset about many things, but the right to life is a hill I will die on.  It makes me sick to hear people talk about taking the life of a fetus nonchalantly, as if the future of our nation did not hang in the balance, as if those lives were not human.  I can have a discussion, and have, with people who do not like abortion but are questioning whether or not a woman should have a choice, especially in cases of rape.  I can understand people who find adoption not a good alternative to abortion, since the US adoption system is in such need of reform.  At least they are thinking about the cost.  It sickens me to hear people talk about those pregnancies as an inconvenience, those children as less than human.

Those who are pro-choice, think about your desire for human rights.  You champion the rights of adult women, their “right” to choose.  How can we have any rights if our right to life is not first defended?  Your mom chose to have you, aren’t you thankful?  I should be thanking my parents every day that they did not choose to legally terminate my life.

I think that everyone should be given the chance to live.  We all deserve to take our first breath.  How is a choice a right when it takes someone else’s life away?

If a girl I knew had an unplanned pregnancy, I would rather adopt her unborn child, possibly at the cost of my higher education, rather than have her choose to end that child’s life.

You were granted the right to life.  Think about that.

The Essence of Tragedy

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This post is inspired by a recent conversation I had with a friend in a Literature and Philosophy class about his assignment to write a paper about the essence of tragedy in the context of various works the class has read this semester.

I’ve been so inspired by that conversation as to write what I believe is the essence of tragedy, and how it has changed from the era of the Greeks until now.  Tragedy, as we know it, started as a genre in Greek drama.  Every Greek tragedy included a protagonist, often a hero type, struggling against fate.  Most of these tragedies involved a prophecy which the protagonist attempted to avoid, ultimately fulfilling it.  This fall was catalyzed by a fatal flaw, often hubris (pride).  The point of the tragedies, plays like Oedipus Rex, Agamemnon, and Antigone was to cause the audiences to have a feeling of sympathy and reflect intellectually about their world.  Tragedy is thought-provoking because it reveals to us a key aspect of our lives, that we all have flaws.  Greek tragedies never featured hope, because the Greeks did not have hope.

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” -Romans 3:23

This verse outlines tragedy.  We were created to experience the glory of God, yet sin pulls us away from that glory, it is the fate that we are tied to, it is our fatal flaw.  Throughout history, people have tried to escape sin, and the death it leads to, but all have fallen.  Not every culture had a name for it, but all humanity knows it.  We see the consequences of our choices and try to change our choices but in the end, they lead us back to the same pit of despair.  The Greeks and other cultures turned their attentions toward building character, wealth, and honor to distract from the futility of life’s struggle.  Those things were somewhat tangible, but they were not satisfying.

This tragedy of humanity was finally given hope at the cross, in God in human form, Jesus Christ.  As he bled and died, he took the tragedy of the world upon him.  That day seemed to be the peak of tragedy, as a man who seemed to be perfect, without flaw, hung dying.  Could there be hope for man?  An outsider looking at just this scene would not think so, but the outsider does not know the whole story.  “For God so loved the world, that he sent his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” -John 3:16.  “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.  By his wounds you have been healed.” -1 Peter 2:24  Jesus took that sin upon him so that humanity might not suffer the ultimate consequence of sin, but that was not the end of the story.  “…that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.”-1 Corinthians 15:4

This is the ultimate joy and hope, the opposite of tragedy.  All who believe in Christ have hope in his resurrection!  “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.” 1 Corinthians 15:19  This verse is true, Christians, if Christ was not raised from the dead, have no more hope than the rest of humanity, in fact, it means that they suffer for nothing.  “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead (verse 20).”  Now there is hope on earth for humanity.  One must ask; since hope has been brought to mankind, is there still tragedy?  The answer is yes.

“And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done.” -Romans 1:28  This is the essence of tragedy, when a person rejects God and the gift of salvation.  A man given the hope of the gospel who rejects it experiences a greater tragedy than the Greeks who did not know of God’s salvation.  The essence of tragedy in the modern world is the opportunity of redemption rejected.

 

My Voice Does Not Matter

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This past weekend, hundreds of women exercised their first amendment right to assembly and free speech and protested at and after the inauguration of president Donald J. Trump.  I was not one of them.

I am a young woman, in the millennial category, single, in university, but I did not protest.  Why?  Because although I want women to be respected and I do not want my rights violated, I did not agree with many of the women protesting.

For the first point, I agree that Donald Trump has made some very disrespectful comments about some women, even women in general.  That does show a lack of respect, but I also think that Trump is willing to treat women as equal to men, at least in a political and occupational setting, seeing as he has appointed women to his cabinet and has had them on his campaign team.  Thus, I did not think that it was necessary to protest in Washington or another big city to encourage him to respect women.  I could go on about why Trump really is the president we deserve, but this video has already done that: https://www.facebook.com/journalpoems/videos/926035810829348/?pnref=story

What I really want to point out is how women like me are unrepresented by the media these days, that we are not treated like the radical feminists and protesters on Washington are.  However, because I am a white, Conservative Christian, my voice does not matter.  Because I believe that the second amendment applies to this era to protect my rights, my voice does not matter.  Because I believe that pornography is evil and that women should dress modestly, my voice does not matter.  Because I believe that men and women are equal because they were created in the image of God, but I also believe that they were given different, valuable roles by God, my voice does not matter.  Because I believe that unborn life is more sacred, my voice does not matter.

I hate that women are mistreated in nations around the world, oppressed just because of their gender.  That is not the case in the United States of America.  We as women have more freedoms than any other women in the world, and we have since the founding of our nation.  We have not always had the right to vote, but that was because the family and community structure was very different in the eighteenth century.  It is disappointing that women are not always paid or treated the same as men in the work force, especially when it comes to pay, and I think that should be changed.  Men and women should  get paid for doing the same work.  However, I believe, counter-culturally, that married women’s primary job and privilege is to raise their children.

I believe that pornography is vile, even “lesser” pornography in movies and tv.  Women should not be shown off as sex idols in media.  Women were created beautifully and to give beauty to the world, but the ability to arouse sensuality is not the same as being beautiful.  Women are life-givers, literally.  We have an ability to comfort and say the right thing at the right time different from men.  We show strength through endurance and biting back ungracious words when children ask us for a candy bar for the hundredth time.  We have soft and beautiful voices in many different ranges, our voices are often compared to angel’s, in fact.  These, and others, are beautiful qualities of women.

I believe that a woman does have a right to control her body, but with that right comes responsibility.  All rights have moral obligations and vice versa.  When freedom is abused, it is taken away, piece by piece.  I do not think that school dress codes are oppressive.  I do not think it is right for men to objectify women because of what they are wearing, but I also do not think it is right for women to objectify themselves and flaunt their bodies.  Modesty is beautiful, it shows a depth of character.  One can still be modest and express herself.  In addition to clothing, women have a right to exercise or not to, to eat healthy or not to, and to have sex or not to.  However, women never have the right to murder for convenience.  abortion is not controlling one’s own body, but destroying someone else’s no matter how that someone else got there.

This is me, protesting against the culture, screaming into the void.  I desperately wish for peace in this nation, I desperately wish that all men and women saw themselves as beautiful in the eyes of God, and held themselves accountable to Him as King of the Universe.  Alas, there is sin in the world, and with that comes discord and violence.  Women are continuing to fight to reign over men, as they have from the beginning (look at Genesis 3).

I am a woman.  I did not protest because I disagree with the worldview held by many women who did protest.  These are my views and my beliefs, and they are the reason why to the media, my voice does not matter.

 

‘Tis the Season for…Humility

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I had just spent about an hour of my time making dinner for my three siblings, and I saw that the dishwasher needed to be emptied.  Huffing a little bit, since it seems like my work would never end, I began to empty the dishwasher, tempted to use my “chef” status as an excuse to make my siblings do it instead.  In this attitude of selfish, unhappy servitude, I was nudged by the Holy Spirit.  I took a deep breath as He brought to mind a sermon I recently heard about the humility of Christ at Christmas.

The Almighty God of the Universe, who according to Revelation 4, has “the appearance of jasper and carnelian, and around [His] throne a rainbow that [has ]  the appearance of an emerald,” who commands the sea and the dry land, who rules from everlasting to everlasting, gave up everything for us.  I literally mean everything.  Phillipians 2 tells us that  Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant.”  Jesus became a child born in the dirtiest of conditions, a stable, because his family could not find room in Bethlehem.  No one came to celebrate the birth of the King of kings, the only onlookers were the animals.  Then, the Lord sent angels to announce Christ’s coming….to a field full of shepherds.  They could have been sent to Rome itself, or to the king of Judea to announce the birth of Jesus and make many fall in awe, but God sent the angels to the shepherds.  Then, those shepherds came to Mary and Joseph and worshipped Jesus.  He deserved so much more, but he chose humble himself.

In light of what Jesus did by even coming to earth, and not only that but being born in a low class in a dirty stable, how could I justify my pride?  I had no more reason to be proud of my little bit of service than a two-year old does for picking a twig up off the ground.  The Christmas story of humility goes farther than Jesus’ birth, Phillipians 2 continues in verse 8, “and being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  We in the 21st century United States of America cannot understand the shame of the cross.  It was an execution and public mocking rolled into one, and it lasted for hours, usually a whole day.  Jesus did not deserve to die that way, he did not deserve to die at all, yet he chose the cross for us.  “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).  I am a sinner, we all are, and deserving of death, but Christ took our sin upon himself so that we could be made right with God.  That is amazing.  It blows me away.

When I thought about all of that, I realized that any service I could do cannot compare to Christ’s humility, and it made me thankful.  Christmas time is a time, for me at least, to reflect on Christ’s humility, and how undeserving I am, and how thankful that should make me.  I do not deserve the gifts I get or the special moments I have any more than I deserved for the King of the universe to die in my place, unrecognized and unknown.

What Love is This?

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I write this as I mourn for the heart of a lost friend.  I am in the first semester of my freshman year of college and I have learned more about God and my faith than in my whole life.

This summer, I went on a mission trip which opened my eyes to the scope of God’s unconditional love.  I fell in love with kids I had only known for a few days and really bore their struggles with them and desired for them to have relationships with Jesus.  I cried for joy when I saw two of the girls come to salvation and wept after I left the camp with my family.  I remember thinking that if my love for these kids could be so great after being with them for a few days, how great is God’s love.  He created us and knows us intimately and desires a relationship with us.

I was hit by this truth later at summer camp, when the Spirit made me truly believe that God cares about every little detail in our life.  “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”  God created the stars and put the earth in motion.  He knew exactly which stars we would see and when we would live.  He puts each person and event, even the small moments, like a hug from a friend or a beautiful ray of sunshine in the afternoon, in our lives purposely.  Nothing escapes his notice.  “Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor.” (Psalm 8:3-5)  It is amazing to think that he made each of us differently, with unique lives and circumstances, and yet he is ultimately in control.  I cannot wrap my mind around it.

Flash forward to my third month in college.  I have just finished a conversation with a friend I have been praying for from the first day I met.  I have been waiting on the Lord, trusting for his promised salvation.  I crave the faith that Abraham had, “when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance.  And he went out, not knowing where he was going…For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God.” (Hebrews 11:8, 10)  He waited for the promised son for twenty five years.  I have been waiting to see my friend’s salvation for three months, and I wrestle with discouragement.  But God has been showing me something greater.

I thought I had learned a lot about God’s love on my missions trip, but I have learned even more in the three months that I have been in college.  God calls us to love the people that will never love us back, or who cannot love us the way we love them.  Even when those people hurt us when we are trying to be an example of Christ to them, we are still to love them.  I have found that while it is hard to love those people, it is nearly impossible not to.  This is a supernatural love from the Spirit.  I have felt such a burden as this for several people, but three stand out in my memory.  One of those, and the one I am closest to has never really experienced unconditional love.

For the past two days I have felt a greater pain because of the sin of someone else and a greater burden for that person’s salvation than I have ever felt in my life.  It hurts, but it is a hurt filled with hope.  My efforts will not save this person, but God is still using me.  As he is using me, he is revealing to me his love.  Not only does he love this person more than I do, he loves everyone with this type of love.  I am astounded at the love Christ felt when he went to the cross.  Did he cry when he was being nailed to the tree?  I believe he did, not just because of the physical pain, but because his heart was broken for the people he saw.  In the garden of Gethsemane, he prayed for those who would come to know him.  In the darkest moment on the cross, Jesus cried, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)  He was not just asking for those mocking him at the cross, but for every person who mocks the love of the Savior.  For every person who has let their heart be hardened to God’s unconditional love, Jesus asks forgiveness.  That is incredible love, and it brings me to my knees.  It comforts me and strengthens my faith.

At a time in my life, especially in my faith, where it looks like I should be under extreme pressure in stress, I feel more peace and love than I have ever known.  Yes, I struggle.  Yes, I feel pain, but hallelujah!  I feel the love of my Savior.  This is how I know that though my circumstances look bleak and the future is uncertain, I can rest in my God.  He is my rock and my refuge.  He is my ever-present help in time of need.

“I believe

that I shall look upon

the goodness of the Lord

in the land of the living.”

-Psalm 27:13

 

Save Your Christmas Music

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The other day, I was hanging out with a group of friends, painting sets for our schools drama club. Well, we were listening to a random shuffle of music on my friend’s ipod, when a Christmas song came on.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Christmas season, the songs, the celebration of Christ, the presents, the family time, even the Starbuck’s drinks, but I am a firm believer that all those precious things should be saved for the Christmas season.  My definition of the Christmas season is Black Friday to December 29, anytime outside of that cannot be touched by the holiday.  Thus, when this Christmas song blasted from my friend’s ipod, all merry and cheer, I loudly requested that the song be changed.

At that point in this little drama, the group split into two factions, those who sing Christmas tunes all year long, and those who hold the Christmas season as the sacred bearer of carols.  I was part of the latter faction, and I have very good reasons as to why.

First, no other holiday gets as much hype as Christmas, its not really fair, especially for Thanksgiving, which was my favorite holiday for years, not just because of the food.  (Fun fact: the song “Sleigh Ride,” was originally written for Thanksgiving, but Christmas stole it.)  Christmas is great, we celebrate God coming to earth in flesh to save the world, but seriously?  Easter is better than Christmas, as it is the fulfillment of that Christmas joy and celebrates life anew.

Moreover, singing Christmas music in the off season is like eating pizza every night for a week straight, it gets old.  In my opinion, Christmas music and pizza are treats which should be saved for special times.  Overplaying such a treasure causes it to lose its value, it becomes more ordinary.

This is just my opinion, as much as I love Christmas, I do not want to overindulge in the joy of the season.  That makes the joy too ordinary, and I would rather keep it fresh every year.  Think me not a Scrooge, but instead a protector of Christmas spirit.

5 Reasons I’d Be Depressed In Public School

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I am currently a senior in highschool and I am homeschooled.  Unlike some of my peers, I do not mind the “homeschool” label, and I actually enjoy having most of my education at home.  I do go to a two-day per week classical program for homeschoolers that is very similar to a private school, but it’s still not the same.

Disclaimer: I’ve actually never been to a public school for the purpose of taking classes, but I have public schooled and private schooled friends. (Gasp, I know, I have friends.)  From what I’ve heard, being homeschooled is pretty great, for me, amazing.  I’m sure there are kids who thrive in the system called public education, but I’m sure not one of them.

Following that rather unnecessarily long introduction, here are five reasons that I’d have depression if I went to public school; or, five reasons that being homeschooled is awesome.

  1. The Colorless Building

I know, I know, the buildings have some color, but in reality, it’s just covering the brain-sucking brown and grays underneath.  I have been in a public school, for the SAT and ACT and a few other times, and I could feel my creativity being suppressed by the prison-like nature of the hallways and classrooms.  I guess that’s a little exaggerated, but its nothing like studying in the sunshine, surrounded by trees and the open air.  Moreover, I get to listen to my own music, as loud as I want, head-phone free.

The best place to learn is not in a room like a tabula rasa, but in a place with plenty of beauty and scope for imagination. At least, that’s my opinion.

2. Peer Pressure, or Pressure in General

Teenagers, the most outwardly judgmental species on the planet.  Someone came up with the brilliant idea of putting all these awkward specimens in one building for eight hours of painful interaction.  Now, I love people, I’m moderately outgoing, and I like to impress people.  I would probably crack under all the pressure I’d feel in a public school.  Pressure to look good, be smart but not too smart, have friends, etc, I’d feel it all.  I would be that kid who tries out for several sports and joins at least two clubs while still trying to stay on top of homework and have a social life.  I don’t know about anyone else, but for me, that’s a recipe for major-stress.

Being homeschooled is awesome in this respect.  Yeah, I feel pressure and still worry about social acceptance, but I can go makeup-less in sweat pants to class and not feel like a failure in life.

Wanting to be accepted by people leads me directly into my next point….

3. The People

Like I said before, I love people, but let’s be honest, people can be mean, dumb, and dramatic.  I do not have any enemies, and in general, most people like me.  I feel like this would not be the case if I went to a public school.  It’s nearly impossible to be around that many people in one’s peer group and not be disliked by at least one person.

I know I’d make friends in public school and that I’d have to ask the Holy Spirit to give me a loving attitude toward the people hard to make friends with.  I’d just probably be doing a lot of that praying.

I realize that I’m going to have to get used to being around more peers when I’m in college next year, but I’m glad I did not have to go through the most awkward, emotionally-charged, stupid years of my life with five-hundred plus kids experiencing the same things.  Sounds like there is a potential for a whole lot of drama, oh wait, there is a whole lot of drama.

I’m not even going to mention the fact that I’d have to work with people that don’t like to work.

4.  The Schedule

Everyone works differently, each person’s circadian rhythm is slightly different.  For example, I am a morning person, my brother is not.  I like to get the majority of my home-work done in the morning, if I’m not working (did I mention I have a job?), while he likes to get his work done later in the evening.

I also like to set my own pace to work, getting the subjects that are easier to whip out done in the morning, while the subjects that take more deep thought and concentration done later.  In public school, I wouldn’t get as much choice in which classes I take in the morning, mid-morning, and afternoon.

I also like taking breaks.  I cannot sit still for an hour or more with just five minute passing periods in the middle. No. Just no.  I can finish my twenty-minute math homework and then do jumping jacks or play on the piano for ten minutes, and give my mind a break and my body some exercise.  It’s awesome.  I also take about an hour for lunch, as I create my own culinary masterpieces, usually from dinner’s leftovers, practice my piano pieces, text people, or see if I have any college letters.  It’s great, but I usually take longer than I mean to.

I could go on about the schedule, but I’ll stop there.

5. The Homework

It’s not that the homework itself would be bad, it could be, but its more about when I’d get the homework done.  I’d spend about eight hours of my morning and early afternoon in a drab building with possibly crazy people, then come home and be expected to spend another two hours, at least, on homework.  That sounds pretty much like torture.

It would be hard to have the motivation to get said homework done as soon as I got home, since I’d be ready to take a nap or go run outside.  If I waited until later, assuming I did not have any evening plans, I would spend my evening doing homework, maybe even stay up late, since I’d most likely be distracted by friends texting and social media.

Either way is not a good option.  Get burnt out on school, or stay up way too late finishing homework.  I’ll take option C, be homeschooled and do your work when you want to and go outside when you want to.  There’s also more motivation required, and therefore, more motivation is acquired.

 

In Conclusion…

I’m sure it’s not all bad being public schooled, after all, public schoolers have those fun school social events, right?  Because everyone wants to go back to the school building and hang out with all the people they already see at least five times a week, more if they’re into sports.

Honestly, it’s pretty great being homeschooled, for even more reasons than the above.  I do have a social life too, at church and youthgroup, at work, with friends, at my “school.”  I do not feel like I’ve missed out on much, I’ve even gone to prom.

To all my public schooled friends and private schooled friends, you are amazing people, with much more will-power than I have.  I both pity and admire you.  If you like being public-schooled, that’s great, if you don’t, I’m sorry.  God can use us wherever we are, right?

*nota bene: this post is supposed to be mostly tongue-in-cheek, so for those who might take the statement that I’d have depression too seriously, please know that I’m not making depression a trivial or humorous thing.*