It was Saturday night. I was snuggled down under my covers and my eighteen year old daughter, Hannah, was sitting on the bed beside me. A freshman in college, she had just received a surprising grade on her English paper. Expecting an A, she received a C. Confused and upset, her tears slowly rolled down her face. Knowing she had to head back to ECU the next day, she said something I thought I would never hear.
“Mommy, I don’t want to go back to school.”
It was a Sunday morning, and my teenage children and I were together at church. My son Gregory was in the worship band, rocking it out on his bass guitar. He was swaying back and forth, almost dancing, and belting out the song lyrics with a strong confidence. Later, during communion, I found a quiet place to pray with my daughter Hannah. I let her pray first, and she prayed so long that I didn’t think I would get to have a turn. She prayed a beautiful prayer that touched my heart.
It was later in the day as I was relaying these events to my husband that I realized that in spite of myself, my children had turned out well – they are hard workers, they have tender hearts and they unashamedly love Jesus.
Recently I went up to the Cape Fear Community College North Campus to purchase a gift for my daughter who was graduating. As I started to leave, it dawned on me that I would probably not return to that building. And then I cried. I cried tears of thankfulness because the two years that she spent at community college as a dual-enrolled homeschooler were such a blessing in her life. And perhaps mixed in were a few tears of joy that my twelve years as a homeschool teacher are over.