One should never speak loudly of good fortune bestowed up on them publicly. I have made that mistake over and over again. You would think I have learned my lesson. I reported on this site recently the joy and the peace in our home these days. My kitchen is clean and laundry has been folded more often than not. Home schooling is going well blah, blah, blah.

Sure I talked about the organization and peace relating to a crisis we found ourselves in with my friend noting we had a little detour in scheduling because of the hospitalization. Well, the little detour became a bigger detour as we contracted colds from the hospital. On top of that my washer broke down. Life without a washing machine to a big family is like life without oxygen. It is a serious problem.

Upon arriving to Missouri, I did not have a washer. I dabbled in hand washing and found it overwhelming. We washed our clothes by putting them in tubs and agitated them with a plunger. The children enjoyed the task … for a while. We abandoned hand washing because I also was starting a new dairy from ground up again. It was a lot to try to accomplish building fences, converting a garage into a milking parlor, and hand washing our clothes. To make matters worse, Missouri faced a monsoon season making it impossible for me to line dry my clothes. Ultimately, I lived in the laundry mat. How could I not with laundry from seven people?

Closing down the farm afforded me the opportunity to find a residence with a washer/dryer hookup and lots of room. When I found a nice sized home with a washer/dryer hook up, I partied like no person had ever partied before. Oh the joy of keeping laundry caught up. Truly, it is a blessing to have a washer and dryer.

My long term goal is to return to hand washing clothes. I have a ringer and used it on occasion when we first moved. During our transition phase, I felt it necessary to return to machine washing clothes. I have been exploring the notion of getting a James Washer, but it is lower on the list. Well…that has changed upon the death of my washer. May it rest in peace. (The rotten piece of junk.)

Since 2007, I have had three washers break down on me. Machines promote ease but they also promise convenience with a price. Manufactures just don’t construct machines of high quality anymore. After all, they sell you a machine and promote an extended warranty with great fervor. It appears they have very little confidence in their own workmanship. Don’t even get me started on the fiasco of working with manufacturers warranties.

I am now embarking upon a life altering decision. To buy a James Washer or not to buy a James Washer. It is such a profound decision, I equate it with the Shakespearean statement “to be or not to be”. It is that serious. But my decision about my next washing machine is not the topic I intended to discuss in depth here. My real intention is to share the guilt and discouragement I faced as our schedule was thrown off once again and how God works in the midst of chaos despite our limitations.

Before the disruption to our school schedule, we were heavily immersed in a variety of good studies. The children and I are studying Old Testament as history. Our journey led us to the fine field of archeology. My philosophy as a home educator is not just to teach them a Christian perspective of history but to inform them of the secular teachings. I want them to be well versed in such teachings that they can give a solid apologia of their Christian faith. As a result, we have spent several weeks studying early man from a biblical perspective, but also early man from an evolutionary perspective. Archeology and geology provide overwhelming support of the truth of the bible. The children soak up these studies like sponges and beg for more information than I have time to provide. We spent a good deal of time researching archeological evidence. The children were entranced with the story of Otzi, the prehistoric man found preserved in ice.

Children often live out their studies in their play. They have turned our backyard into an archeological site. It is unnerving to see these farm kids dig up our city yard. We have had a few discussions about how we should conduct ourselves in town. However, the children unearthed a concrete platform in our lot and were delighted with their find. Further near the sidewalk, they found cow teeth. They found various artifacts of a metal variety. As the weather warms, they come in the house with dirt embedded in their finger nails and smeared on their faces happily sporting their new piece of junk (artifact). I long for the return to the farm so my children can live out their adventures without anxiety about being offensive to city codes or neighbors.

The abrupt disruption to our schedule saturated me with frustration and guilt. Spending time in the laundry mat again also pulls me from our home. It is easy to toss in a load of wash in between math or science lessons. I entered the laundry mat last week with despair. The children were energetic and helpful. I had them count out the quarters and practice multiplication tables to help ease the angst of disruption to our schedule. The super sized washers began their cycle as I sank into the chair pleading with God to help us with school. Pilfering through the stack of magazines on the table increased my despair. One magazine after another displayed gossip and immodesty. It was all trash. I tossed one more magazine into new pile and uncovered an answer to my prayer. In the midst of the smut and trash, I found a magazine titled “Archaeology”. The cover displayed topics we recently studied in our home school including the discovery of the walls of Mount Zion. I called the children to the table and we read the articles together clinging to every word. We consumed every article in the magazine together and barely finished before the laundry was done.

Our laundry mat experience may seem trivial and unimportant. However, after several years of home schooling by crying out to God to direct my family, I find these coincidences hardly coincidental. Time and time again, God provides supportive materials to supplement our home school when we are out and about living life. Distractions end up being a delightful change in routine to learn more about subjects we may not have considered studying. Further, I find many opportunities to apply our studies to real life context.

Dedicating my life to home education is not easy. I bear the burden of being solely responsible for their education. Since home is our school, illness and distractions make it challenging to stay on schedule. Moreover, rearing the children to love the Lord God, poses many challenges as distractions present themselves. However, God is faithful to see us through these challenges. He gives us everything we need for life and godliness. Stay tuned for more on our adventures in studying archeology.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid