late for Lent

I discovered a couple weeks ago that My Girl has been hearing things I don't agree with in a particular setting (how's that for vague?). It's something I really, REALLY don't want my kids taught, but I am probably in the minority on this and don't expect most other adults in our circles to agree with me.

Fortunately, My Girl asks questions.
Unfortunately, I freaked out a bit (though not in her presence).

And then I calmed down enough to realize that I can't control what my kids hear. I can't expect everyone to have the same beliefs and values and educational ideals as me. I know that My Girl is in a place she is loved and safe, and I know that I can't expect that my kids will somehow avoid different ideas than mine "until they're ready" (whatever that is).

Maybe they shouldn't. Maybe it's good that My Girl knows now that another adult and I disagree, that we don't have to be the same to respect one another, that we can question. Maybe it's good to begin these discussions now.

And maybe definitely it's good that I have been confronted with my own laxity.

I KNOW that education and development in the home are more important and have a longer-lasting effect that what occurs in the church building or schoolhouse or any other setting. I know that I shouldn't rely on any kind of curriculum or class or teacher, even when I trust that curriculum or class or teacher, to fully educate my kids. No matter the quality of a program, the primary responsibility for educating our children rests with my husband and me.

And I have been lax with faith development in the home. We pray at dinner and bed. We talk about the Sunday School story. We talk about questions as they come up. But there's not much concerted effort on my part to make our home a spiritual place...for all of us. Now, I don't want to go overboard. I don't want to make our home just another place for Bible story lessons...or any kind of lesson. They get enough lessons.

What I want is for there to be space for us to live...really live...acting out the stories and questions and rhythms of our faith with our hands and our hearts and our home.

When My Girl was little, I learned about Godly Play, a montessori-like curriculum/play for biblical stories and church seasons. It is unlikely we will ever be in a church with a Godly Play program (it's very different than traditional Sunday School), but I had this desire to incorporate some of the ideas and stories into our home. One year I made the Advent Godly Play story set and used it each week of Advent with My Girl. The Boy hadn't even been born yet...or he had just been born...I can't remember. I can't remember!!

I completely forgot about this Advent set until a few months ago I found it in a box somewhere.

How could I forget?
How Could I Forget?!

I guess I forgot because I had a baby, and we moved, and we struggled to find our place in our new city, and I felt lonely and unfocused, and I struggled to decide what to do with my work life, and our kids were in good programs, and somehow making a spiritual corner in our home (and my heart) was lost in the mix.

But I'm going to try again.

It would've been smart to begin with Lent, but I'm late for Lent. Oh well, part of Lent can be focusing on our failure, so really I was just in time for Lent! That's how I'm gonna think of it, anyway :). I turned to Pinterest for a quick search of Godly Play ideas and found this blog (Explore and Express), which looks like a wonderful place of do-able ideas for spiritual practice in the home. This weekend, I'm going to try to set up a Lenten nature table in our home, using the Explore and Express blogger's as a model.
And maybe we'll try to make some prayer pots.

More importantly, though, we'll try to begin the process of instilling some more regular spiritual rhythms in our home. Rhythms that are not intrusive and exhausting but instead facilitate a deeper exploration of our lives together and with God/dess. I'm not sure how to do this, and I'm sure failure will be a big part of it, but...

I will hold myself to a standard of grace, not perfection.

 To be continued...