Remedy for Burnout: Diligence Now & Blessing Later

Joanna, a five-year-old orphan and blind, was no doubt my daughter. She thrived like a watermelon seed planted in my heart and growing.

The paternal and maternal love for her was enormous, though we’d never met. God grafted her in our hearts, not unlike a pregnancy, and we anticipated her arrival.

But Joanna’s adoption story is for another time. This story is about her education. I’d never been around anyone blind. I’d never considered how they learned, let alone how to teach someone with visual impairment. How does one say—terrified?

The journey to parenting began months before our daughter came home from the Philippines. If I was going to homeschool Joanna along with her siblings, I had much to learn.

I called the state and spoke with advocates for the blind. One suggested teaching the Braille alphabet with a six cup muffin pan and ping pong balls. Another recommended a screen board. A rectangle of cardboard with door screening stretched over it and stapled down. This way, when anything was written or drawn over the screen the paper was perforated. When the paper was turned over, raised lines revealed what you wanted to show. Joanna would enjoy coloring because a simple page of any design could be converted to raised lines. Still other suggestions were about mobility. We bought a hard shell baby buggy for Joanna to push, and it became a buffer for her little body between walls and furniture.

Every time I surveyed the whole apple of Joanna’s education,

it overwhelmed me by immeasurable proportions.

Fear gripped and battled to conquer. Even as we traveled to the Dallas airport to meet our small daughter, the war raged. She cannot see. She doesn't speak English. Oh my. What are we doing?

We rehearsed our Tagalog, her native language. And, we had a cassette recording to explain simple things to our child in her own tongue. Ready or not, there we were. And, what happened at the airport?

Love conquered fear. Young Joanna captured our hearts and held us captive.

One year and four surgeries later, our English speaking, Philipino daughter was ready for kindergarten. I received word about a ministry in Plano, Texas. This ministry transcribed ABeka Christian School curriculum into Braille for sighted parents of blind children and for blind parents teaching their sighted children. The Braille, loaned by grade levels, was mailed to private schools and homeschooling parents around the country, and it just so happened the curriculum was an older version of ABeka. The print copies were no longer available. But, we owned the older versions of these books, having used them with our other children. Joanna and I had books that matched.

Joanna delighted in learning. We acquired a Brailler along with a Braille watch, slate and stylus, and other essentials for the blind from a precious Christian family whose older, blind sister had passed away. So, where to start?

When first beginning our homeschooling journey, we were told the years 

tell what the days never know. This speaks of diligence. 

Being faithful with what is small.

We dove into school that year, and I quickly discovered Joanna learned like any other child. She was a visual learner. (One whose eyes were her fingers, mind you, but visual all the same.) She delighted in learning and was quick. Often her peals of laughter were like bells tinkling through the house. Why had I been so afraid? God certainly knew me better than I knew myself, didn’t He?

There came a point in time when Joanna sailed with her Braille, and I no longer had to visually keep up. I presented, and Joanna learned. Just like any other child.

The ministry in Plano went belly-up two years later and closed its doors. I received a call asking if I’d like to house the Braille and be the lending library for other homeschool parents around the country. Living in a one hundred-year-old -house with walk-in attics had its advantages. One Abeka reader when stacked in volumes often equaled my height. There was plenty of room for the hordes of boxes. The day those books began trickling into our care was like Christmas. And for years, we served others while having every grade level we needed for Joanna. Oh, the goodness of God!

When first beginning our homeschooling journey, we were told the years tell what the days never know. This speaks of diligence. Being faithful with what is small. Every time I surveyed the whole apple of Joanna’s education, it overwhelmed me by immeasurable proportions. But being diligent to take a day at a time and to enjoy the learning process and my child paid off.

After turning eighteen, Joanna tackled the local high school where she received an honors diploma. From there, she navigated college. Joanna, a bright and lovely child, is now a married woman and mother.

But today we target diligence. God provided everything Joanna needed to succeed. One bite at a time…

How do you eat an elephant?

We are told in Colossians 2:6-7, that as we have received Christ, we should walk in Him, rooted and built up, established in faith and abounding in thanksgiving. Do we realize what this means when our efforts are discouraged, when burnout consumes us, or when quitting seems a better alternative?

Where there is a root, there's hope for a new beginning and hope for renewal. If you were once rooted, built up, and walking in faith with Christ to homeschool your children, you can be again. Having homeschooled now for more than twenty-five years, I can assure you. The big pay-offs come from day to day diligence coupled with the fact that Jesus paves the way. He’s always a step ahead, ready to love you and support your endeavors. So, dust off and begin afresh. He is new every morning.

Joanna McCauley West

When I told Joanna about this article, she was eager for you to hear her story of God's goodness. Once, she was a whisper from God in our ear;

forever, she is a blessing.

 

Listen for His Whispers...