When Life Wears Us Down
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the pace of life — how relentless it can feel, no matter how many boundaries we draw or how intentionally we try to live.
When I stepped away from traditional education, I fully believed the slower pace would come naturally. But here’s what I’m learning: life will try to wear you down no matter what rhythms you choose. You can leave a job, shift your schedule, homeschool your kids, simplify your commitments — and still, the Enemy will use busyness, heaviness, and hurry to steal joy in the little moments.
He’ll keep us moving so quickly that we forget to breathe in deeply.
To enjoy a warm cup of coffee without rushing.
To linger long enough to watch the sky as God paints it in jeweled tones at sunset.
To remember that joy is often quiet — and always worth noticing.
But even in this hustle, this new season has offered me a grace I don’t want to take for granted.
This week, we did our schoolwork — and we did it well. But I also spent a full day at doctor’s appointments with my mom. I got to keep my niece when she needed a place to land. These are the kinds of moments that used to feel impossible to fit into my schedule. Now they feel like gifts — opportunities to serve the people God has placed right in front of me. I pray I steward those moments well.
And then… there’s homeschooling.
Goodness, it is fun.
In our American Revolution unit last week, the boys took on a STEM challenge: “The British are coming! The British are coming!” Their mission? Build catapults strong enough to defend the colonies. They designed, glued, rebuilt, burned their fingers more times than I’d like to admit, and laughed the whole way through.
Once finished, they took aim at the “dirty redcoats,” as my six-year-old proudly declared, and we measured accuracy, distance, and effectiveness. Watching them experiment, troubleshoot, compete, and giggle — I was struck again by how much children learn when they’re free to do, not just listen.
I am convinced they absorbed more in that one hands-on lesson than I could have taught in days of traditional instruction.
This season is far from perfect. It’s busy, unpredictable, and stretching. But it is also deeply good. It holds room for learning, serving, slowing down, and seeing God’s fingerprints in the everyday.
And maybe that’s the point.
Not that life becomes effortless — but that in the middle of the hurry and hard, God keeps giving us moments that invite us to breathe, to notice, to delight.
With grace and grit— and gratitude—
Kehla
