You prayed for me, didn't you? you prayed about our schooling situation, right?
I know you prayed for me, because you keep asking me about the school down the street.
and I know you prayed, because our meeting with the principal went so well: better than I could have imagined. We got a tour of the school grounds; we peeked in on kids working diligently at their desks; we saw the amazing pool facility; we spent a solid hour with the principal, dialoguing about what we would need to do to sign our kids up for the next school year.
There was a rough patch in the meeting - after the principal scolded us for the fifth time for doing something as ridiculously irresponsible as homeschooling - when I bristled and tried to explain for the the fifth time that my kids schooling had indeed been legitimate and . . . and Joshua's hand slid over to my knee and firmly, gently squeezed it. (Do you know this love squeeze? the warning love squeeze? the "whoah, settle down and I'll take it from here" love squeeze? It's a life saver for me.)
And then there were those ten minutes on the sidewalk outside of the school building when I cried the ugly cry, and Joshua held me close and reminded me tenderly that my value is not dependent on what people think about our schooling choices - that my value is firmly rooted in being created in God's image and being loved by Him - things that no one can take away.
But, I told you the meeting went well, didn't I?
It looks like the school - despite its full school roster - is willing to open their doors to the Smith family. We were given a verbal commitment that the school would make space for all three of our kiddos. We will take them in the day before school ends (mid July!), when they will be analyzed for grade placement.
That kind of freaks me out.
Now we're frantically preparing for the placement tests. . . in spanish.
On my best days, though, I'm honestly pretty excited.