PearlS | The Average Pearl

TAP+B Pod: Ep.2, Meet Pearl and Beth!

Episode 2
Meet Pearl and Beth!

The Average Pearl + Beth Podcast is made up of two sisters (one a thinker, one a dreamer; both moms) who like to chuck conventional culture noodles up against the refrigerator of unconventional Bible wisdom. What will stick?

Not your watercolored, hand lettered, instagram pith (though Beth loves a good candle) (and Pearl loves pith). We are deep diggers, here to excavate the Word and expose it to the next generation, with a side of momming fun.
Join us?

Guests: Pearl, Beth

Topic: introductions

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TAP+B Pod: Ep.1, Death By Discernment

Episode 1
Death By Discernment

Guests: Pearl, Beth

Topics: Godly discernment vs. what the world tells us, Gary Chapman 5 Love Languages

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Discernment by death.

I am so happy the kids are back in school—yes, public—yes, all of them! If you have read my blog for any amount of time, you know the flip-flopping (although I don’t think of it as that; there is plenty of examining and deliberation) we have done, and the deep feelings I have on every angle.
I love teachers. I love school. I love learning. I love kids being home. I love watching them be out of the home, doing their thing. I love being with them; I love hearing all the things they do in a day without me. I love watching kids grow up.
I don’t love screen addiction. I don’t love busy-ness for the sake of being busy.

I know readers and friends think me the biggest overthinker when it comes to making pros and cons lists on every single schooling situation, but this is undoubtedly due to our history and present circumstances.

My husband was educated by a hardcore homeschooling mother until highschool, then moved between four public schools before he graduated. To this day he harbors resentment when he recalls his teenage years and gaps in his education.
I’ve felt incredible pressure to get the schooling situation right because I also have been influenced by folks who are sheltering, rule-abiding, and (sometimes) judgmental. My growing up days involved anxiety and depression (and probably some underlying OCD), and I strived to be the perfect people pleaser—that impossible task that results in major unhappiness.

It didn’t take many words from well-meaning people to sink deep in my soul and cause major doubt.

Terrified of making the wrong decision (or at least facing the repercussions and reactions from people around us), my biggest struggle in life has always been confidence. I do not think this is common to most people. Maybe more people are self-assured, or maybe they aren’t over-thinkers like me.

These internal thoughts have been complicated by the children we have and the special needs that came with them. Each family has a distinct “recipe”—our past, our convictions, our struggles, our children, our future. I cannot nurse the old habit of people-pleasing when now I understand that the recipe never called on that particular ingredient in the first place.

But Jesus continues to transform me, thank goodness. The Bible has been my prescription, and over twenty years of marriage I have studied enough to understand my faults and the faithfulness of God. He has redeemed my flaws to a point where I do think my constant self-doubt has been replaced by complete trust and the gift of discernment, or at least solid discretion (more on that later).

So, schooling: to feel good about the situation we are in, to not feel overwhelmed, to feel like things are manageable…This is a huge deal.
Our kids have, to date, lived in two different states, four different cities, attended five different schools (the largest district having over 80,000 students, the smallest, 600, the current, 5,100), bumped up and down grades, a short stint at a magnet school, three and a half years of homeschool: one year of shared schooling, one year of online schooling, one year in a co-op. I’ve taught public school and I’ve struggled at home teaching four kids while dealing with health issues.

And the kids are fine. They really are! We just attended another back to school night and met dozens of new-to-us teachers and administration. My kids are joyful—I am, too.

If I have learned anything at all, it’s that no perfect schooling situation exists, but there is complete peace when you give the reins to Jesus. None of our years have been wasted.
How I’d like to pass on this confidence to friends who are struggling in schooling situations! But I realize how each family is unique, and each path to peace is so affected by our own personal issues.

This isn’t about school, but it is about doing what is right based on what is true, because you are confident of what is right and true. Most of us will forever battle the battles with the wrong weapons because we are heavily influenced by the world or people around us, and truth is somewhat veiled.
If you are fortunate enough to get to a low point in your life that causes an about-face, one in which your only plea is, “God, help me! Show me how to get out of this mess I’ve made,” then you have cried out for wisdom.

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.
James 1:5

Back to discernment, then, and how to stand strong when doubt shadows your door.

I remember a church, several years ago, wanting all of us to take a little Gary Chapman survey to tell us what our love language is, because somehow that would help us understand how to be better people, a better church. I didn’t take it, being highly suspicious of such antics, but also too busy with babies—there was no way we were staying after church for a survey in the basement, since everyone was screaming for lunch and a nap—I would’ve loved a good night’s sleep, and old Gary didn’t have a category or anyone to to help me out with that.

Mostly folks came back up the stairs and announced, “mine is physical touch!” Or “mine is quality time!” It was fun and novel for a minute, but it didn’t reach very far. Instead of growth, this “knowledge” eventually caused atrophy, shrinking their understanding to their own bubble, limiting the extension of potential love by using qualifiers. “Oh, he feels loved when you give him gifts” (true enough, but what if I’m not good with gifts?). “Her love language is words of affirmation” (what if I’m not a big talker?).
They weren’t improved in any way, except in supposedly now knowing a new trait about themselves and others…

James, in speaking about wisdom, didn’t mention Gary Chapman, or love languages. He said, “ask God!”
Isn’t it funny when we insert manmade, “world” wisdom into our spiritual lives? As if we could wrangle self-improvement, put it in a little kennel like some emotional service pet to accompany us on our journey. Eventually the little pet dies and once again doubt shows up on your doorstep. What you trusted before—personality assessments, modern psychology, the good intentions of others—isn’t enough to chase the doubt shadow away.

In fact, it compounds frustration—how am I supposed to be in “community” when I need tons of personal space? Or my kid doesn’t obey me and I’m loving him in exactly the way his personality requires! Or why Should I stay in this relationship when we aren’t compatible?

The non-spiritual wisdom (that which values self/flesh) cannot hold up to the spirit-filled life (that which is made to worship Him), yet we Christians love to wallow in the former and bite our fingernails over the latter!

Paul contrasts these two ideologies when he writes to the Corinthians:
…the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than humans strength. Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong!
1 Cor. 1:25-27

The thing that truly changes us from our core is the personal transformation by the Holy Spirit to make us a person who had no wisdom, to one who does. Miraculous death to life—rebirth—this is the story of our victory, one that mirrors the resurrection of Jesus.

The motive behind the Gary Chapman quiz and self-improvement tchotchkes are to manifest a temporary, faux-discernment within the life of a believer without having to die to oneself.
But…you do have to die! Remember when Jesus told his disciples he must go to Jerusalem and die? Peter “took him aside and began to rebuke him. ‘Never, Lord!’ He said. ‘This shall never happen to you!’” (Matthew 16:22)
Jesus told Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Then Jesus said to his disciples, “whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
(Matthew 16:23-24)

True discernment comes by way of death to self. It doesn’t come from the well-meaning, Peters in our lives who love to smother fires. It is far superior than anything human psychology could produce. In fact, it is a God-given gift—one that is given as a “key” to unlocking certain spiritual truths.

And not many find it, apparently, because

“Wide is the gate and broad the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Matthew 7:13-14

Your situation, whatever it is, requires wisdom and Godly discernment, and it won’t come along a wide path, nor will it even agree with the culture of wider modern “Christian” thinking.

This is the truth: and it is the gospel that buries itself into every kernel of God-given wisdom:
When we turn from ourselves (repentance) toward God for salvation—when we take the leap to trust Jesus instead of ourselves (faith), the Spirit enters our lives (justification) and begins to, if we allow Him, transform our thinking and actions (sanctification).

This is discernment, God’s wisdom gift to us who trust Him.
It’s rock solid. It doesn’t rely on our emotions or play with our thoughts. It allows us to sleep at night. It helps us release our kids. It gives us compassion for others. It teaches us to guard our hearts and lips. It provides energy for day to day living.
Everything I need.

Cry out for insight, and ask for understanding. Search for them as you would for silver; seek them like hidden treasures. Then you will understand what it means to fear the Lord, and you will find the knowledge of God. For the Lord grants wisdom! From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.
Proverbs 2:3-6

Returning to School, Renewing the mind.

You know how when you’re pregnant, every other thought is about the growing life inside you? Or if you’ve just bought a car that is new to you, you begin to see Honda Pilots everywhere you look? Your worldview is skewed toward your circumstances, and you have a special lens that pigeonholes your thinking.

Well, I’ve been pigeonholed for a long time in the world of kids and education, two of my favorite subjects. We’re moving from a homeschool year into a new public school district, where four kids are split between three schools.

It is fascinating, this world of mine that stretches and intersects, pushing me in and out of situations I would’ve never dreamed. We’ve been a moving family, a band of gypsies, raising eyebrows everywhere we go.
I was the person who swore we’d never uproot our kids, that they would enter school and not be budged till they graduated. Yet here were are—my oldest has been in seven different schools in ten years, along with three interspersed years of homeschooling. (He’s doing great! Haha.)

As a teenager, I remember the emphasis placed on “knowing God’s will for my life.” Church camps and youth leaders preached it, yet it was the secret sauce I couldn’t touch, because it didn’t seem God wanted to speak to me. He was as silent as a stone.
But I’ve gotten the feeling over my life that God was really speaking to other young Christians-turned-parents, because most of the friends I have now seem to have a great handle on God’s will.

Homeschool. That’s God’s will for them. (I can say this because I’ve tried to lean into it myself, but it is awfully prickly.)

And as I’ve seen many edge more and more into what that will entails, I’ve scooted further and further back from wanting to have any part in it, even though it is wonderful to sleep past seven in the morning on a weekday, or have the freedom to travel in October or February.

The startling truth is this: when I walk into my kid’s new classroom, at a new school (as I have done nearly a dozen times before), I see people who need Jesus.

I see parents who need Jesus because they don’t know how to talk to their kid, even in public. Parents that need Jesus because they are overwhelmed and undersupplied, and ought to know they can “cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you” (1Peter 5:7).

I see kids who need Jesus because they lack authority and direction. Perhaps too few adults in their life have the bandwidth to instill order, therefore they lack the attitudes of respectfulness and the understanding of consequences.

I see teachers who are already carrying too heavy of a burden of not only teaching academics, but teaching behavior and serving as respite parents. They need Jesus, because He said, “take my yoke upon you, learn from me…and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:29-30).

I see my kids growing up, each old enough to serve as a light in the darkness. Even these tiny candles of humans can, by simply walking into a room, make the darkness a little less dim.

I see me, my particular traits and experiences that suit me well as a go-between, an oddball teacher-and-kid supporter, a person who loves drinking Living Water and can spot a thirsty soul in a heartbeat.

I’m uncomfortable in my own skin by nature. I’ve forever, in every social situation, felt like a seventh grader at a new middle school. And yet, this is my biggest muscle—developed from walking into school as the new kid, new mom, new teacher—over and over. (Who better to substitute teach? Ha!)

So back to God’s will, and knowing it, and the cozy lens through which we view our lives. I’m thinking each of us has it wrong. Where we emphasize knowing “what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will”, we shouldn’t separate it from the first part of the same scripture:

Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God…Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
Romans 12:1-2

Where I’d been wrong was thinking His Will was a pattern, probably a good stay-in-this-lane, straight-and-narrow, self-learned plan that would certainly pay off in all the ways I’d anticipated it as a good Christian girl.
Sure, it wasn’t a bad idea, but it was still conforming to an idea. One where I could make lots of excuses to not stray from, one that was temptingly comfortable. One that didn’t require much transformation by the renewing of my mind.

I think it boils down to this, if I can be direct: we mostly get it all wrong. We’re like little Pharisees, not much concerned with who a holy God is and how we ought to try and please Him—but obsessed with our little rules and how they apply to our life—as if it were really ours to begin with.

We think life is about filling a big box, packing it full—relationships, learning, diversions, celebrations, kids, college degree, job, marriage, success, memories, money, nice house, things—and the winner at life has the biggest, fullest box.
But what if life is more of a box that has presents in it and God lets us pull them out, one by one, and open them. And what if those gifts are all for Him, but he still lets us open them and use everything inside?

What if we get to pick either the first or second box scenario? The first box (flesh/self) comes with a warning that at the end of life it’ll all be tossed in the garbage, but the second box (renewed mind) promises ultimate joy and will go on into forever?

It really is about Him, after all, the wild One who fits no patterns, who follows no man, who loves enough to leave the ninety-nine and find the lost one.
And how much more does knowing who He and what He is about matter than voices and patterns?

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
Matthew 6:33

On Submission: Pruning the Vine

It was a year ago we make a birthday jaunt to the southwest to visit dear friends and spend another Fourth of July in the mountains. And a week later that the kids and Daddy cried on the car ride home…Well, mourned, I guess is the better word.
Why did we ever move away?

We moved, I calmly reminded them, because Dad had a big job opportunity and didn’t want to “wake up one day wondering how life might’ve been different if we’d only moved to a bigger place when we had the chance.”

Which we laugh about now. This is exactly the place we want to be—not regretting the move to the eastern slope or subsequent years spent introducing the kids to the Midwest, but so thankful to return to our home, the place where all my babies were born, the place I was sure we’d never see again once we pulled our U-Haul out of the driveway in southwest Colorado.

Since I think about tomatoes a lot, the pruning, especially—I do this daily to focus the plant’s energy on growing fruit—I see these gardening methods as they apply to our family decisions…the dividends paying out as we focused special energy on prioritizing Joe’s work and letting him blossom within his career.

Many years ago I had considered returning to work, the kids (ages one to seven) all driving me crazy at home surely had me eyeing any reprieve, even if it meant getting my master’s while teaching via a scholarship program. (What makes a person in our culture think spreading ourselves thinner might offer more peace? Why are there countless folks who applaud the working mother when it means saddling them with more worries?) This would’ve meant Joe would have to meet me in the middle, compromising his management career. He was so busy, and I was so busy—had no help at home, nobody to watch them so I could grab groceries or take a nap, etc.

But I didn’t really want anyone else raising my babies, didn’t want a babysitter or daycare to do my job, so if Joe couldn’t grant me reprieve, then we were each going to have to grind it out the way we’d already been doing it, me being the home-body, he, the work-body and bread-winner.

Snipping low leaves and suckers off the plant, the yellowing limbs.
I pruned back my ideas of a career. (I usually have lots of ideas…most of them I’ve pruned back…)
I won’t say this didn’t cause some pain in the moment; it certainly did. There was pleading and tears and hurt as I broke off whole branches. We followed his work, turning the focus toward his job…Which blossomed into a huge tomato of a blessing.

It’s not just about a paycheck, though by remaining loyal to his employer he has “climbed the ladder” with nothing more than a bachelor’s degree and an incredible work ethic. Because of his job we’ve been able to pay off our old college loans, buy houses, two cars, remain debt free, and give money and things generously and cheerfully to those in need. Because of his job we’ve learned not to hold tightly to things in this world (even the idea of calling one place a “home”). We’ve learned to depend on one another—he to be a strong worker, content with his employment; I, to love being home and find joy in some of the endeavors I would’ve never dreamed of pursuing without his stable career.

I’m so thankful we didn’t spread ourselves so thin. I’m glad I didn’t push to get that early teaching job and miss out on the raising babies work.

Not only have I seen tomatoes appear on the vine, but they are beginning ripen.

We love to cheer each other on in the things we are good at—and, here I’ll sneak in a little lesson about that (sometimes) rankling church word religious leaders like to toss around when mentioning marriage—submission.

Why is this word so cringey when a preacher-man yells it out over a silent congregation, as if to lasso women back into their proper, restrained place in the home? Men are to love their wife as they love their own body, which, to me, is far more noteworthy and difficult than a wife’s job to cheer on her husband. (As much as they love NFL on a Sunday afternoon? Fantasy football? Brisket? Paid time off? A whole Saturday on the golf course? Hunting season? A new motorized toy? Talk to me more about how much a man ought to love his wife…)

Submission is nothing scary or yell-worthy.
And this is what the spirit of submission is: the responsibility to prune the vine so you can confidently, lovingly, and faithfully tell your partner: You got this. Keep going.

You got this, Joe—you’re amazing at what you do. Don’t stop, I’m here for you.

Keep going, Joe—My favorite thing to do is watch you succeed.

Submission isn’t delicate restraint, it is intentional pruning paired with a deep desire to see our shared plant grow and produce a harvest.
We are focused on the tomatoes, the fruit of the vine, and we mercilessly whack off every part that doesn’t bear fruit so that the parts that can produce will be made more fruitful (John 15:2).

Submission isn’t explicitly about work, or a woman’s place, child rearing, or any of the arguing points a preacher man might like you to think. Submission itself is in black and white—it must be done, as all things go that come with a promise (Do not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time it will reap a harvest if we do not give up, Galatians 6:9)—but one must extend the brushstroke into the gray, private areas of her own life where the conscience makes it explicit.

Submit is action word, imperative, forward-motion, not a hovering, cowering act, as if a person ought to cave into herself with pity and self-abasement. Submission is doing, not retreating, and can only be performed with rock-solid faith that understands and trusts the words of Jesus— “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5

What branches are you pruning? Tell me—what tomatoes are you growing?

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. Ephesians 5:21-22

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the body of believers and gave Himself up for her…Husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. Indeed, no one ever hated his own body, but he nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the body of believers. Ephesians 5:28-30

The Problem of Tech in Schools.

Next month will mark a year since I quit teaching public school. I miss it, I miss the teachers and the routine and the extracurriculars and moms and dads who come to every event tired on their feet because they’ve worked all day, but filled with love to see their kid do their thing.

I miss talking to kids everyday as a job. I miss how much fun it is to see them learn and feel proud of what they accomplish. I miss making music with them and for them.

Our family has done so much this year apart from school: music camps, youth orchestra, children’s chorale, private lessons, sports, theater, church youth programs, contests, academic events, festivals… Our time has been filled with great alternatives to public school education—especially enriched by our choice to move cross-country and integrate into a community of other home-educators.

Still I miss the bustle of public school and the cross section of folks who make a perfect microcosmic world for our kids to practice people skills at the intersection of education. I miss math teachers. And science teachers.

Some of my dearest friends still vehemently disagree with me in my attempts to re-enter the public school scene. I am more comfortable than ever with their discomfort, probably because every situation is still pretty far from perfect. I guess I’ve learned it’s just the way it’s going to be—my people are homeschool-minded; my school preference is public.

But let me tell you what I don’t miss: let me tell you why I almost register my kids for school down the road and then still talk myself out of it, even though we desperately need a better routine and homeschool is not my jam.

What I don’t miss in public school was reinforced to me when I listened to a recent Pantsuit Politics podcast. The hosts visited with a reporter about technology in schools these days and the Pandora’s box of issues it presents to kids, teachers, and parents.
When I talk to homeschooling friends, I can’t adequately articulate the issues of technology—how the era of Covid sent kids home, equipped them with “necessary” tech for at-home education, then crippled them forever with an addictive habit cleverly rebranded as “asynchronous learning.”

I (and millions of other parents) had a front row seat to the nonsense of kindergarten, second, and fourth grade students and their teachers trying to figure out new responsibilities and expectations with all the overreaching, complicating issues that came with it.
My own kids had never been handed a device in my home before without strict time limits earned from doing chores or practicing music. But now we were in a battle where my six year old was required to check inane tasks off (play this game, draw letters, circle puppies, Zoom!) hourly so his teacher could check off her own respective boxes.

Instead of taking time to play outside in the sunshine, I spent hours going from room to room, trying to redirect my eight and ten year olds to make a Google slides on apples and research renewable resources instead of sneaking over to poki.com to play whatever games their little brains desired.

The world was fighting a germ; we were inside fighting burgeoning addictions to technology.

And with the return to class and Covid monies being tossed at our schools, we saddled the kids with one-to-one devices and unmanageable behaviors and shortened attention spans.

No one did any research on the effects of this learning style before applying it to children. No one questioned the addictive screen time pull on kids or mental health and attention span ramifications. No one asked for parental consent before requiring kids to join google classrooms and other apps (and let these businesses gather kids’ information); it was blindly assumed this was the next step.

As a post-Covid public school teacher, I sat through many professional meetings where the administration instituted new testing, new curriculum, new methodology. Teachers (an adaptable bunch) tried to take on the new tech, but there was no allowance or accommodations offered. It was “we do it this way now” with the understanding that the greedy grab for Covid money was paving the way for a “better” future.

I regularly caught kids in the hallways on their way to reading and math intervention, cracking open their chromebooks to sneak a YouTube video or play games on a free website.
During reading time, or inside recess, or “free time”—kids, hunched over laptops, drinking up the internet. Schools where cell phones were banned now welcomed a new device to accompany students 24/7.
“Send them home!” the principal announced when we asked what to do with the laptops after school. “This is why we have them; to use them. They should be going home with the kids every night!”

Teachers who hadn’t asked for the tech, now responsible as a parent to try and monitor thirty kids all day long with a laptop sitting on each desk, but it didn’t stop there. They were responsible for having them charged and keeping them clean (and we all know the filthiest place in the world is a child’s backpack) all while the principal had ordered them sent home with the kids (I refused to let my own elementary kids bring their laptops/iPads home.)

Now, I don’t think every school is like this; at least I really hope not. And back to the homeschool crowd—certainly I know many that hand their child a device and don’t blink twice. No one these days is above the lure of technology, social media and the answer to every question at our fingertips.

But…what are we doing?

How do we responsibly integrate tech and still preserve our children and academics? How do we reach into the darkness and shine a light?

Listen to Pantsuit Politics’ most recent podcast, Tech in Schools with Jessica Grose. I’m so glad I’m not the only one thinking about this…Time for parents to speak up!