The Journal of The Kindled Mind
Jennifer Blair is a homeschool mother of five, writer of stories, and creator of The Kindled Mind — an integrated history curriculum built around the belief that everything connects.
Here you’ll find tips on homeschooling and more of the philosophy behind The Kindled Mind.
She also shares reflections on faith, motherhood, books, and the art of learning: woven together as they are in real life.
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HOMESCHOOLING
The Notebooking Method is a simple yet powerful approach to learning that replaces worksheets with more active participation. Instead of filling in blanks, students create a personal record of what they have learned through narration, writing, drawing, mapping, and careful observation.
Since I am teaching both my older girls and younger boys, I’ve tried to teach the boys to ask, “Whats’s next, Mommy?” after they finish a project. I need to help them learn not to run off the minute I go help the girls. I’d say they remember 50% of the time. The other 50% they run off and make a mess somewhere in the house, and I have to go find them and show them what’s next.
Spiritually, I’m a lot like my little boys. As I’ve been teaching them to say, “What’s next, Mommy?” throughout the day, He’s been teaching me to ask, “What’s next, Father?” too.
Back in April we purchased five tiny caterpillars and took them home. As soon as we got home, Simon grabbed the container off of the counter and dropped it. I thought we had just killed our newly acquired beings. Thankfully, caterpillars are pretty resilient. For 12 days we watched as they grew and grew, waiting anxiously for when they’d make their chrysalis. The kids were mesmerized. It was funny how long we could sit and simply watch them move around in the container. One day we woke up to one in a newly formed chrysalis, and 6 days later we woke up to one emerged butterfly. We released them just in time - the day before a big trip back East. It was a beautiful way to wrap up our school year. They loved watching the caterpillars grow, and I loved watching them grow. (Though I thoroughly enjoyed the caterpillars too.) Watching my kids find joy in learning and in nature is such a blessing to me. Getting to teach them so many thing is such a joy. I both lose and find myself in being their mother and teacher.
I love creating things, anything really, whether it is working to make a garden or making art when I photograph my kids. It’s in our DNA to create as image-bearers of God. But I don’t really create from nothing; I create with things God has already made. He is the one who makes things from nothing, and yet invites us to be co-workers with Him. There is no other place I can see this more deeply than in raising children. God does the deepest work of creation, but allows us as mothers to have life grow within us. As children grow, He partners with us in their continued growth and development. They are exactly who He made them to be. We don’t choose their personalities or features, but we do get to be a part of shaping what God is doing in them. What a gift and privilege!
I love the Christmas season, and I always have. But as I read the other day, Christmas seems to be a great magnifier of good and bad. Many good things seem even better, and hard things can feel even harder. I have known both sides. This time of year reminds me of loss and reminds me of my innumerable blessings. Over the years I’ve parred down the things that we do during Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the things! But oftentimes I need the simplicity so that I savor the reason we are celebrating and not succumbing to merely being busy. I’ve found that these are things we do every year because they are simple and meaningful. Apart from reading a good advent devotional, here are a few of the sweet traditions we enjoy, old and new:
The outdoors have always called to me. Many times I feel I simply need to go outside and feel some sunshine on my face. During our normal homeschool days, we try to take a daily walk around our neighborhood. But after my husband almost lost his life in February, I’ve been rethinking, well, everything. I took an imaginary look forward into our future. In five years I will be 40 years old, our youngest (the twins) will be 7 or 8 and our oldest will be 14. I can’t imagine them being so big and independent since they insist on “Mommy!” for everything at present. That is a big change in such a short amount of time. It reminded me that I have a lot of groundwork to lay in these brief years. There are more vital things than schoolwork, though I do still want a high bar set for academics. Going through something traumatic will teach you that you can’t survive without a good framework and a good vision for your life. The unnecessary things seem to crumble away. I see now the need to change a lot of rhythms in my life, and being outside for my sake and my kids was something we all needed more than our current schedule allowed. Our curriculums have always encouraged a field trip day or something of the like on Fridays, and we did that plenty, but now we go outside for different reasons.
It’s true what they say, the years go by so quickly. My babies don’t have their summer tan anymore and the all the flowers have faded, even though it feels like just a few days ago everything was green. I want to view all of my life, but especially the present with nostalgia. I want to see my life through a rose-colored lens. Just looking at a black-and-white image seems to do it for me every time. I need the reminders: “It’s sweet” and “It doesn’t last.” Though each part does seem to get sweeter, even though many things in life are hard, I want to savor each moment. I want to FULLY live and love where we are right now. I think this means looking for joy and beautiful things, like chubby cheeks, morning light, and “I wuv oo mama!” I often pass by beautiful things because they are simple and ordinary, but they are the things that I should hold close to my heart…Like my Sammy’s baby hand holding a flower to give to me.
MOTHERHOOD
Since I am teaching both my older girls and younger boys, I’ve tried to teach the boys to ask, “Whats’s next, Mommy?” after they finish a project. I need to help them learn not to run off the minute I go help the girls. I’d say they remember 50% of the time. The other 50% they run off and make a mess somewhere in the house, and I have to go find them and show them what’s next.
Spiritually, I’m a lot like my little boys. As I’ve been teaching them to say, “What’s next, Mommy?” throughout the day, He’s been teaching me to ask, “What’s next, Father?” too.
Back in April we purchased five tiny caterpillars and took them home. As soon as we got home, Simon grabbed the container off of the counter and dropped it. I thought we had just killed our newly acquired beings. Thankfully, caterpillars are pretty resilient. For 12 days we watched as they grew and grew, waiting anxiously for when they’d make their chrysalis. The kids were mesmerized. It was funny how long we could sit and simply watch them move around in the container. One day we woke up to one in a newly formed chrysalis, and 6 days later we woke up to one emerged butterfly. We released them just in time - the day before a big trip back East. It was a beautiful way to wrap up our school year. They loved watching the caterpillars grow, and I loved watching them grow. (Though I thoroughly enjoyed the caterpillars too.) Watching my kids find joy in learning and in nature is such a blessing to me. Getting to teach them so many thing is such a joy. I both lose and find myself in being their mother and teacher.
I love creating things, anything really, whether it is working to make a garden or making art when I photograph my kids. It’s in our DNA to create as image-bearers of God. But I don’t really create from nothing; I create with things God has already made. He is the one who makes things from nothing, and yet invites us to be co-workers with Him. There is no other place I can see this more deeply than in raising children. God does the deepest work of creation, but allows us as mothers to have life grow within us. As children grow, He partners with us in their continued growth and development. They are exactly who He made them to be. We don’t choose their personalities or features, but we do get to be a part of shaping what God is doing in them. What a gift and privilege!
I love the Christmas season, and I always have. But as I read the other day, Christmas seems to be a great magnifier of good and bad. Many good things seem even better, and hard things can feel even harder. I have known both sides. This time of year reminds me of loss and reminds me of my innumerable blessings. Over the years I’ve parred down the things that we do during Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the things! But oftentimes I need the simplicity so that I savor the reason we are celebrating and not succumbing to merely being busy. I’ve found that these are things we do every year because they are simple and meaningful. Apart from reading a good advent devotional, here are a few of the sweet traditions we enjoy, old and new:
The outdoors have always called to me. Many times I feel I simply need to go outside and feel some sunshine on my face. During our normal homeschool days, we try to take a daily walk around our neighborhood. But after my husband almost lost his life in February, I’ve been rethinking, well, everything. I took an imaginary look forward into our future. In five years I will be 40 years old, our youngest (the twins) will be 7 or 8 and our oldest will be 14. I can’t imagine them being so big and independent since they insist on “Mommy!” for everything at present. That is a big change in such a short amount of time. It reminded me that I have a lot of groundwork to lay in these brief years. There are more vital things than schoolwork, though I do still want a high bar set for academics. Going through something traumatic will teach you that you can’t survive without a good framework and a good vision for your life. The unnecessary things seem to crumble away. I see now the need to change a lot of rhythms in my life, and being outside for my sake and my kids was something we all needed more than our current schedule allowed. Our curriculums have always encouraged a field trip day or something of the like on Fridays, and we did that plenty, but now we go outside for different reasons.
It’s true what they say, the years go by so quickly. My babies don’t have their summer tan anymore and the all the flowers have faded, even though it feels like just a few days ago everything was green. I want to view all of my life, but especially the present with nostalgia. I want to see my life through a rose-colored lens. Just looking at a black-and-white image seems to do it for me every time. I need the reminders: “It’s sweet” and “It doesn’t last.” Though each part does seem to get sweeter, even though many things in life are hard, I want to savor each moment. I want to FULLY live and love where we are right now. I think this means looking for joy and beautiful things, like chubby cheeks, morning light, and “I wuv oo mama!” I often pass by beautiful things because they are simple and ordinary, but they are the things that I should hold close to my heart…Like my Sammy’s baby hand holding a flower to give to me.
What if life-giving words were spoken to us over and over and over? Words have the power to shape us, yet we often don’t give enough attention to what our own words are doing. James gives us the image of the tongue as a fire, yet Proverbs speaks of good and timely words as “apples of gold in a setting of silver.” We can let our words be something that destroys beyond all repair (only rebuilding) or something beautiful, valuable, and enriching.
I remember when I was in the throws of having newborn twins, moving into a new house, and starting a new homeschool year. We had just transitioned from three kids to five. It was a continual cycle of feedings, meal making, school, feedings, and naps. Rinse and repeat all day. To be honest I was living in survival mode, constantly stressed and frazzled. I never got much of a break and was needed nearly 24/7. I wanted to find joy in my numerous blessings, my five kids, and our life, instead of drowning in all the work it took to keep everyone alive and fed. I wanted to be a calm and gentle mom, not a stressed-out mom. I wanted God’s peace, not a constantly hectic feeling.
PERSONAL
Barely grown, yet standing at the alter
We were so young then, all those years ago
White with innocence and green with youth
So much life to come - what did we know?
If there is one thing motherhood has taught me, it is that my children learn more from what I do than what I say. If I find true enjoyment in something, they seem to enjoy it also. If I complain about something, I find they mimic my complaints later. They mirror the way I treat them, the way I talk to others, and the emotions I express. To my dismay, they often mirror my negative qualities along with the positive. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” they say. And it’s true. So what kind of apples am I growing? What kind of tree am I?
There is a beautiful principle found in nature: life from death.
Just because it is beautiful doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. Death is painful. Even these stunning trees will watch every bloom die, every fruit wither, and every leaf fall. They’ll be left with a red scar where life once was. And yet, new life will come. Without the surrender to the death of what was there could never be another beautiful Spring.
When the soul is wounded, it needs care just the same as a wounded body. I’m learning this deeply. Jonathan has a large physical wounds from this, but my soul has invisible wounds. It needs care just like a broken down body. It needs rest and things that will do it good. A wounded soul needs the medicine of the Truth, for nothing brings comfort and healing like God’s Word. It needs quiet and stillness to heal. Most of all it needs the care of the Good Shepherd, the only one who can bring true healing.
On Sunday February 19th, 2013, my precious husband collapsed leading worship at our church, Awaken City. He said he felt something like a shockwave go down his spine. I was helping in the babies area that day, but someone came and got me pretty quickly. By a miracle of God’s grace a nurse with a cardiothoracic background and her husband who is a PA were on the front row, rushed to help him, and quickly called 911. He had symptoms of a stroke from what they could see, but something just seemed off to them. They hoped it wasn’t a dissection (more on what that is exactly later) but they suspected it might be the worst case scenario.
Have you ever seen something so beautiful that it took your breath away? I wish I could transport you all to the moment I took the photo above. The sky was on fire with the brilliant last rays of the sun, acting like a highlighter to the vibrance of the Aspen leave all around me. It’s one of the few moments I remember being truly awestruck. But I wouldn’t be able to see all of that immense beauty if not for something so small and seemingly insignificant: a seed.
For the past year or so I’ve been trying to get rid of stress in my life. I realized a while back that I am often choosing my stress. Now, with five kids (including twins) life can get stressful pretty quickly with just the normal day-to-day things! Even so, I’ve been trying to get at the root of my stress. It’s not good for my body, my family, or my walk with the Lord. After many months of examining, I believe the root of most of my stress comes when my priorities aren’t right.
“This job [of motherhood] has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness.” (Elisabeth Elliot)
FAITH
Since I am teaching both my older girls and younger boys, I’ve tried to teach the boys to ask, “Whats’s next, Mommy?” after they finish a project. I need to help them learn not to run off the minute I go help the girls. I’d say they remember 50% of the time. The other 50% they run off and make a mess somewhere in the house, and I have to go find them and show them what’s next.
Spiritually, I’m a lot like my little boys. As I’ve been teaching them to say, “What’s next, Mommy?” throughout the day, He’s been teaching me to ask, “What’s next, Father?” too.
You would never know from these photos that we were not deep in a winter wonderland…unless, I showed you the second photo of the speed limit sign. In reality we were right by the main canyon road and just off of another road that goes up to the normal sledding spots further into the mountains. With a slight shift of perspective, my camera only saw the snowy wonderland and not the road a few steps behind us. One view was an ugly, muddy mess, and the other view was beautiful and magical.
I don’t have to know where I’m going anymore. I’m fine with riding passenger. It’s taken a while to get rid of the bad theology of “The American Dream” (or most of it, I hope). I’m not the “master of my fate” or the “captain of my soul” as stated in Invictus. I’m content, joyful even, to know Jesus is leading me. Even with so many reasons to be discontented, I’ve found God has given me contentment. I’m less “in control” than I have ever been. I honestly don’t even know what this summer or next year will look like, what I’ll be doing, or if things will resolve in so many respects. Yet I know this is where God has led me. So how can I have contentment without any “game plan”?
I don’t think there has ever been a time in my life I haven’t been hoping for something. I’ve struggled throughout my life when there wasn’t something “to look forward to”. If there wasn’t anything, I planned something, anything. When things got hard I comforted myself by looking ahead and thinking, “But I just have to make it until ___ (something fun) comes.” My joy and contentment was very much controlled by the circumstances of my life. (Enter the difficult years.) It’s been a crazy past 4-5 years, full to the brim with difficult things. To name a few: a hurricane crushing our home, my mom dying after a sudden diagnosis of late-stage cancer, my husband having emergency heart surgery at 35, being homeless several times, PTSD, etc…Planning something to look forward to just stopped working for me at some point. When life is so hard you can’t look beyond the next few hours or when what you see ahead only brings more anxiety, you need something MORE. Better. Deeper.
It’s the time of year that many people look back on the year that is drawing to a close and highlight all the good or say “good riddance” and wish for a better year to come. I’ve thought often about what this year means to me in retrospect. It was certainly an “ebenezer” year, and I wish I had an actual stone to put somewhere in remembrance. It was a year I saw a true miracle: God spared my husband’s life when he had, at best, a 2% chance of survival. It was incredible, undeniable and I will never be the same or stop being grateful that we can all still be together as a family. But we can’t tie up our story with a nice bow. We can’t say “God saved Jonathan and this is why.” I can’t negate the dark valley I walked through afterwards or the fact that Jonathan still lives with a medical condition that gives him pain and hinders normal activity. He still can’t run around in the yard with our kids and he’s not back to 100%. The discouragement and limitations that continual nagging pain causes is hard for us both, especially because it looks like there may not be any resolution on the horizon apart from another miracle of God.
Limitations can be blessings if we let them. Have you ever thought of how most songs, even something as complicated as a piece in a symphony, is technically comprised of only 7 different notes of a single scale? The art of painting is even more limited. All the colors used come from a mere 3 primary colors. Drawing is mostly made up of 3 shapes: circles, triangles, and rectangles. All the beauty of nature cycles through 4 seasons, year after year after year. Whole worlds are created from these limited means.
Integrating art and poetry is about making connections more than perfection. When a child sketches a steam engine or copies a stanza about the Industrial Revolution, they aren't just doing schoolwork, but actively processing history through their own hands and mind. If history and science are the "bones" of our studies, art and poetry are the "heart."