I kept her home purely for selfish reasons. Half-day kindergarten was more of a hassle than what I was willing to deal with at the time. Her sister was a baby. Daddy worked out of the home. She was all I had to teach. Life was good. I could do this at home. Then came coloring. Then came reading. My sweetie was amazed that we all survived that year. You would not think that teaching one kindergartner would be that challenging, but it was.
There were glimpses of her learning challenges then, but we were blinded by the norm. My daughter was good at many things and became even more adept at compensating for what she could not do. Frustration continued to mount. For the next three years she learned how she could in a traditional classroom. Her teachers loved her. Her friends liked her. She hated to be there. There had to be more to her learning than this.
God moved in our family to begin homeschooling again at the beginning of Angel's fourth grade year. Princess would be in kindergarten, and my little man was still in diapers. My little girl still had not made her appearance. Oh, and we decided to move that year. Was I crazy, or just trying to help my child. Time would tell.
Despite her anxiety level decreasing, it was obvious that her academic frustration was still accelerating with each academic year. We sought outside help.
Angel hated every moment. Yet along with her imbred compensation, she was now learning tools to help her learn in a way that matched her God-given strengths and weeknesses. Now things began to make more sense.
Through every tantrum, every fear, every failure, God was still there working in all of us. What started as a simple kindergarten curriculum years before had morphed into an academic plan that would take her through all levels of science and math in high school. God had shapen, broken, and remolded Angel into a women with a passion, a young lady with a tremendous work ethic, and a girl after God's own heart.
Armed with her tools of the trade, she left for college focused on mechanical engineering. She has never approached school lightheartedly. It is work for her. Yet here she stands in the crossroads as a college student depending on the Lord to continue to direct. This is where he has her.
Now it is not coloring that gives her fits, but calculus. Her casual reading is minimal, but she dreams numbers. Her mind works in ways that differ from mine and others, but her heart is soft and ready for God to use her in any way he can.
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