Listen Learn Grow

The Reading Fight that Broke Something Open

Listen Learn Grow — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 15:31:56 GMT

There’s a particular kind of rage that comes from loving someone so much you’d do anything for them and still not being able to fix what’s hurting them.

That’s what I felt the day I finally slammed the book closed. Not out of anger at my son. Out of anger at myself. At the curriculum. At whatever invisible wall kept showing up between him and a page of words. He was defiant, in tears, and so was I — and somewhere in the middle of that standoff, I made a decision that would change everything: I let go.

No curriculum, no lesson plan, no academic milestone was worth more than my relationship with my son. And I refused to let him grow up hating learning because his mother couldn’t stop fighting him over a lesson.

So I put the school books away. For a full school year, we did almost no formal academics. We read aloud constantly — that never stopped — but the workbooks, the phonics drills, the pressure? Gone. Instead, we played games. We talked. We just were together.

And here’s the thing I still cherish, even now, looking back on what felt like a year of “failure”: our mornings. Coffee for me, Bible and Scripture together, and read-aloud time with great literature and classic books. Frustrated as I was underneath it all, those mornings are some of the most sacred memories I have of our early homeschool years. They reminded me that connection was never wasted time, even when I couldn’t see where we were headed.

By Thanksgiving of 2021, our life looked completely different. We’d moved over 300 miles from everything familiar into a much larger city — one with a thriving homeschool community and far more opportunities for our kids. We plugged into a Christian co-op, church-hopped until we found where we belonged, and slowly started building real friendships with other Christian homeschool families. I was on cloud nine. Hopeful. Optimistic about this new chapter, even with all the “known norms” and family we’d left behind.

By the following summer, I heard about a local program — a certified structured literacy program, the only one of its kind in our state, run through a local Christian school. After a lot of prayer and many conversations with my husband, we made the decision to move forward with their $550 evaluation.

I’ll be honest: I was hungry for answers. But guilt hung heavy over me too. I didn’t want a label on my son. He was — he is — a gift from God. Precious in His sight. Deeply and dearly loved. Labels felt like they might cheapen that somehow.

But by this point, something had to give. I needed to know if there was something real going on here — something beyond my own ability to navigate as his mother and teacher. So we scheduled the two-and-a-half-hour assessment, and I told myself I was ready for whatever we’d learn.

Two to three weeks later, a five-page report arrived from the Structured Literacy and Dyslexia Specialist who’d evaluated him. Well-organized. Thorough. And profound.

I felt paralyzed reading it.

Our son — just a few months shy of turning 8 — was barely reading at a first-grade level.

Gulp!

I felt like I’d failed him. He was home with me every single day. His growth, his learning, his future — that was supposed to be my job. And even though I knew, deep down, I was bracing for a hard truth (this was, after all, the same child who flatly refused to touch his schoolwork), I wasn’t prepared for just how far behind he actually was.

The truth hurts. But it also sets you free.

And in that hard, humbling, expensive season, we received our blessing. To this day, I am so deeply grateful we followed through with that assessment. I’m proud of us — of my husband and me — for advocating for our son. For refusing to settle for “he’ll catch up eventually.” For digging deeper and searching for real answers, even when it cost us financially and emotionally.

So what did that five-page report actually say? What was really going on with my son — the piece of the puzzle I never saw coming?

That’s next. Stay tuned.

Learning to Let Go

Listen Learn Grow — Mon, 20 Jul 2026 15:05:19 GMT

Home education was never meant to be public school recreated around the kitchen table; no strenuous busy work with worksheets and a pencil, no routine block schedules, no monotonous desk-bound rhythm … all simply under a different roof. Home education rather is doing life TOGETHER and learning naturally through the many facets of life.

When my husband and I first began praying over the idea of pulling our oldest from the classroom and taking their education into our own hands, we held it with a “one year at a time” mentality. We weren’t concerned about high school, let alone college. We wanted to enjoy the time we had with them right now, to grow and hone in on their gifts, nurture their passions and walk alongside them through their struggles. Looking back, God clearly knew far more than we did. The vision we’d prayed over wasn’t at all what unfolded in front of us. And somewhere in that unraveling, it became less about teaching our children and more about a lesson for me — not just as a parent, but as their mom.

In a years time of praying, pondering and seeking counsel from homeschool veteran friends who’d gone before me, I felt as if this beautiful picture was being painted in my mind; once children knew how to read, grasped comprehension and gained math skills, they’d be set on a path for independent, child-lead learning. And although there’s a particular kind of beauty in child-led learning that I didn’t fully understand, I felt confident that God had our best interest at heart and we simply needed to trust the process.

I’d like to think most parents would agree that as children grow older, something remarkable happens, they stop needing us to hand them the next lesson. They start reaching for it themselves. A question turns into a thread they can’t stop pulling, that thread unravels into a full deep dive and suddenly they’re teaching themselves things I never planned to cover. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Not a mother with all the answers, rather a child who’s learned how to go looking for them, how to think for themselves.

But I’d be lying if I said this was our story from day one.

Because right in the middle of this vision — this bright, ideal picture of a home full of curious, self-directed learners, was a bright, late-elementary-aged boy who wanted absolutely nothing to do with learning.

My son.

Although this wasn’t a sudden change of heart, I felt there was more to this situation than I could comprehend. He fought me on every lesson. Refused to cooperate with anything I set in front of him. If a book landed in his lap, he’d grow dizzy, unable to focus long enough to get through a single page. His handwriting had to be perfect — a rather exhausting kind of perfectionism that wore him down before he’d even finished a sentence. He wasn’t being defiant for the sake of it. He was struggling and so was I, and neither of us could name why.

I remember sitting across from homeschool veteran friends, nearly in tears, trying to figure out what curriculum I was doing wrong. Their answer wasn’t a new program or a better method. It was simpler and harder to accept: relax! Let go — for now. No lesson is worth a relationship. No curriculum is worth the fight that leaves a mother and son more distant than they were that morning.

So, I did. I let go.

And it wasn’t until we relocated our family that everything started to shift — that the real reason behind his struggle finally had a name, and a handful of remarkable resources found their way into our life at exactly the right moment.

That part of the story, though, is for next time.

- Lindsey

The Real Reason I Started This Blog. (It's Not What You'd Expect).

Listen Learn Grow — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 05:00:07 GMT

If you'd have told me ten years ago that I'd be a stay-at-home mom teaching my kids from our kitchen table, I would have laughed — politely, but genuinely confused.

That wasn’t the plan.

I’m Lindsey. Wife, mom to three and unapologetically, a home educator. Our oldest two came into the world in 2010 and 2014 and for a while, life looked pretty close to what I had pictured. Our oldest was attending a private Christian school. Our youngest was at home until the age of four and then off to preschool. We had a routine that made sense.

And then it didn’t anymore.

It wasn’t one big dramatic moment that changed everything. It was a slow unraveling — a growing feeling that something wasn’t quite right, that our oldest was working harder than she should have to just to keep up, and that the place she was spending most of their days wasn’t seeing what I was seeing at home.

So we pulled her out.

Not because I had a plan. Not because I had a curriculum picked out or a Pinterest board full of lesson ideas. We pulled her out because something in me — that quiet, persistent mom-gut feeling — said this isn’t it.

Preschool, 2019! Our youngest, he barely just started as the world came to a stop.

How the rest unfolded was life changing.

1. Why I’m here. And why now?

I didn’t start this blog because I had it all figured out.

I started it because I didn’t and I couldn’t find anyone talking about the specific, exhausting, beautiful, confusing intersection of faith and motherhood and homeschooling and learning differences all at once. I kept looking for the resource that felt like us. The one that didn’t separate the spiritual from the practical. The one that understood that some days the lesson plan falls apart and you’re on your knees before you’re trying again.

I couldn’t find it. So I decided to build it.

My middle son was eventually diagnosed with a myriad of challenges including a diagnosis of poor eye teaming and Auditory Processing Disorder (APD). And if you’re new to that term, you’re not alone. I was too. APD isn’t about hearing. His ears work great. It’s about the way his brain receives, interprets and makes sense of sound and language. It’s invisible, it’s misunderstood and it changes everything about the way you teach, the way you parent and the way you communicate with your child.

Learning that changed me.

It sent me searching. Through research and rabbit holes, through trial and error at our kitchen table, through prayer and frustration and breakthrough moments that made me cry happy tears in the middle of a Tuesday. And somewhere in all of that searching, I realized — I had something worth sharing.

Not because I’m an expert. I want to be clear about that.

But because I’m a mom who has been in the thick of it. Who has sat with the overwhelm and come out the other side with tools, with perspective and with a faith that carried me when nothing else made sense. And I believe deeply that there is another mom out there right now, Googling symptoms at midnight, feeling alone in this, wondering if she’s missing something.

This is for her.

Listen Learn Grow exists because every child deserves to be understood. Every mom deserves a community that gets it. And every family navigating learning differences deserves resources that don’t ask them to leave their faith at the door.

This is my corner of the internet. And I am so glad you found it.

2. This isn’t just a newsletter. It’s a table.

When I picture this space, I don’t picture a podium. I picture a table.

A kitchen table, actually, because that’s where most of the real stuff in my life has happened. Where homework gets done and hard conversations start and somebody always needs a snack and grace gets passed around along with everything else.

That’s what I want this to be.

Listen Learn Grow is not a place where I hand you a perfectly packaged answer and send you on your way. It’s a place where we figure things out together. Where you are allowed to show up tired and uncertain and still searching. Where your questions are welcome and your story matters and you don’t have to pretend you have it together to belong here.

This is a space rooted in faith; openly, unapologetically. But it’s not a space that will make you feel like you’re doing it wrong if your journey looks different than mine. We are all finding our way. I’m just committed to finding it out loud, in community, with you.

Here’s what you can expect when you subscribe:

You can expect honesty. I will not perform a version of motherhood or homeschooling that isn’t real. You’ll get the breakthroughs and the hard days in equal measure.

You can expect faith woven into everything, not as a formula, but as a foundation. The kind that shows up in the middle of the mess and reminds you that you were never doing this alone.

You can expect practical support. Resources, tools and real conversation around auditory processing disorder, learning differences, and homeschooling in a way that actually works for families like ours.

And you can expect community. Real, warm, you-belong-here community. The kind that makes you feel less alone at midnight when the Google search rabbit hole has you spiraling.

When you subscribe to this newsletter, you’re not just signing up for content.

You’re pulling up a chair.

And I have been saving yours.

3. Here’s exactly what you’re signing up for.

I know you’re busy. You’re probably reading this between a math lesson and a load of laundry with a cold cup of coffee nearby. So let me get straight to it.

No guessing. No vague promises. Just clarity, because you deserve to know exactly what you’re walking into.

How Often Will I Post?

New posts will go out 2-3x per week, something to start your week with intention, inspiration or a practical tool you can use right away. Occasionally I’ll drop a bonus post when something is too good not to share, but your inbox is sacred and I will always respect it.

What Day Can You Expect It?

Every Tuesday/Thursday. Same day, same time, same place. Consistency is something I take seriously — because if I’m asking you to show up for this community, I need to show up first.

Free Subscribers — Here’s Your Seat at the Table:

Weekly posts delivering real, honest conversation around Christian motherhood, homeschooling, and learning differences
Access to my personal story and the foundational content that started it all
Community connection through comments and conversation
Occasional free resources, guides, and tools dropped right into your inbox
A front row seat as this community grows

Paid Subscribers — Here’s What’s Waiting for You:

Everything the free community receives — always
Exclusive deep-dive posts going beyond the surface into APD strategies, homeschool methods, and faith-rooted parenting tools
Access to the Listen Learn Grow resource library — printables, checklists and toolkits designed specifically for families navigating learning differences
Early access to new digital products before they go public
Direct access to me — a space where your specific questions get real answers
A seat at the inner table — the most honest, most practical, most community-driven corner of this space

The honest truth?

The free subscription will give you so much. I believe in leading with generosity and I will never hide the good stuff behind a paywall just to make a dollar.

But the paid subscription exists for the mom who is ready to go deeper. Who wants the tools, the resources and the ongoing support that goes beyond a weekly post. Who wants to feel like she has someone truly in her corner.

If that’s you — I’d love to have you.

- Lindsey