Blue Moon

Tonight there's a moon called Blue;
It looks fully full, not new.
On the first, there was one,
But then just for fun,
Came July's full moon number two.

Why I am a School Supplies Addict

"My name is Emily and I am a school supplies addict!" I believe that is how the support groups say that a person should begin if they want to overcome the addiction. I am not certain that I do wish to overcome it, however. What is so wrong about finding delight in buying 70-sheet theme books for 19¢ and finding extra-fine line pens at a 50% discount?  At any rate, by the dictates of the marketplace it is a seasonal addiction, and it will end by Labor Day.

My gateway drug was a Goldenrod Tablet. Similar in texture to newsprint and of a color more truthfully described as 'sun-faded maize' than 'goldenrod,' these pads of writing paper once made me feel very grown up.  You can see that the cover was pretty enough, yet formal, not childish. The lines were spaced just right for writing with a standard №2 pencil—like a real scholar.

I didn't get to use my goldenrod tablet as often as I'd have liked, however. The teacher wanted the class to be kept at the same level, which meant that we all were forced to use a chunky pencil to draw our inch-high capital letters, the lowercase ones just tapping the dashed centerline, on school-issue penmanship paper. Never mind that my fine motor skills were ready to race to the next level. Being different was not an option.

On that occasion, I recognized that an autocrat wannabe was intentionally blocking my goldenrod destiny.  But too often in my early formal education, that truth—that I was being stymied by sinister forces—was discovered only by hindsight. Public school never nurtured my God-given dreams. Once in a while, like the grammarian I had in eighth grade or the folk-historian I had for senior economics, I would find a teacher who did a good job of equipping me for my dream, but none ever nurtured it.

That is one among the many reasons that I became a homeschooler for my own children.  I wanted them to have a teacher who would love their dreams.  God puts His destiny for each of us in our hearts. Sometimes it is hard to find, but it is there. If one sends his child to public school 7 hours per day, 180 days per year, for K through 12, that child will have 16,380 hours during which he was denied seeing his loving Creator implant and nurture the dream that was given him. No one will be teaching him how to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, (although there are some schools that offer curricula that gives instruction on meditation for whatever feels agreeable). And no one will be teaching him how to avoid walking in darkness, because that would require teaching the Gospel of John 8:12.

Unlike the addiction that causes a person to crave more in the future, my school supply addiction looks back to remind me that my God-given dream is still there. The teacher who tried to place chains on it has been in her grave for years now, but the world has no shortage of tiny tyrants who are willing to take her place. I have come to the realization that the main reason such people are desperate to control the circumstances is because they are led by circumstances.

And isn't this precisely what a public school worldview teaches and indoctrinates a child to accept?  To make decisions based on needs, preferences, and opportunities for gain? It is nice to have those, but what about making decisions based on the leading of the Holy Spirit's witness in your heart?  Do you really want to place your child in a position where he is steadily being conditioned with teachings that override his heart? How will he keep his heart tender toward the Lord when God cannot be mentioned?

It takes more than school supplies to train up a child. It takes supplies of wisdom and courage, of spiritual fruit, and a God-inspired dream. That is what the goldenrod tablet symbolized for me; it represented my God-inspired dreams. It was a place where I could create. It was a place where I could speak. It was a place where I could write what I loved.  

That is why I am a school supply addict.  I cannot throw away a crayon nub if there is still a picture left for it to draw. I cannot throw away a pen if there is still a story in it yet to be written. I cannot give up on my God-given dream.