It was one of those Monday mornings when it seemed like everything that could go wrong did. I will emphasize SEEMED LIKE because, obviously, there were innumerable possible catastrophes and even minor collisions that had been avoided. In the stress of the moment, though, I had the distinct impression that our home was crumbling down around me. (And actually, that part wasn’t so far off: just the night before, several of our roof shingles had literally blown away in a windy storm.) The kids were at each other’s throats. The baby was a tantruming whirlwind setting off small clutter-bombs around the house. I’d snapped at my children more times than I could count. And I had spent such a huge portion of my day wiping up spilled milk, smeared toothpaste, and sticky mashed banana that I was beginning to wonder if I had been mistakenly body-swapped for a Swiffer mop.

Needless to say, not much school was taking place on that school day. Between the bad attitudes and the bickering and the lessons that were not making sense, this Mama-turned-Teacher was not getting through to a single one of her pupils. I had offered up every prayer I knew to pray, seeking patience and wisdom and guidance as I struggled to reverse the trajectory of our No Good Very Bad Day, and it appeared that God’s answer was a resolute No.

I went to sleep that night feeling utterly defeated as a homeschooling parent, only to wake up the next morning and face the entire scenario again. As that awful week progressed, I grew in my certainty that I was probably not cut out for motherhood and definitely not cut out for homeschooling.

And then, it happened: a breakthrough! In a moment of desperation in attempting to help Kali master an elusive reading concept, I decided to set aside that day’s workbook lesson and pull out some letter magnets instead. Sitting together on the couch, the magnets on our lap, we pieced together words. I watched as her demeanor gradually shifted from baffled and defiant to confident and engaged; confusion morphed into comprehension, and I could see that genuine progress was being made.

Breakthrough must have been in the air, because Kali and I were still word-building together on the couch when I noticed Sully begin to willingly set the table for lunch—a voluntary chore performed by the child who had just that morning hurled himself to the floor when I’d asked him to carry his siblings’ breakfast plates to the table. Maybe those consistent discussions about service and family contribution had not fallen on deaf ears after all.

Another breakthrough came later that day with Nico, who had spent months stubbornly refusing to walk on his own. I watched as he crawled to the toy room closet, pulled out a push toy, and proudly toddled it down the hallway and around the living room. I could scarcely believe my eyes! All of the literal hand-holding and walking practice finally seemed to be clicking.

That evening brought a capstone win to the Jernejcic family at Charleston’s Faces of History presentation with our CC community. Months of effort had gone into this project, and he absolutely knocked it out of the park. It was a desperately-needed reminder that the time I pour into my children’s education is not in vain. I was encouraged by the performances of Charleston and his peers, whose hours of dedicated effort were evident in the excellent presentations they each gave that night. We were witnessing the fruits of our homeschooling labor, not just in our immediate family but in our entire homeschooling community. What a joy to behold!

Later that night, in texting with the other mamas in our homeschool group, I mentioned how much I had needed the WIN of our Faces of History event after a season of feeling particularly defeated in my recent homeschooling efforts. My offhanded comment prompted a flurry of encouraging text messages from the other women who understand the struggles of homeschooling (and ALL of parenting), including the inevitable questioning of our efforts and the doubting of our capabilities. Their reassuring texts were a balm to my battered spirits and a genuine testament to the power of an encouraging word given at just the right moment. The kindness of my friends was the cherry on top of the lovely sundae that was our string of recent family breakthroughs, successes, and wins.

Homeschooling is hard. Some days, it is REALLY hard. All of parenting can be really hard. And it’s easy (for me at least) to get so consumed by the difficulty and occasional failure of it all that I neglect to notice the wins along the way. But celebrating those wins is not just rewarding; it is vital to the continued momentum of the parenting and homeschooling journey.

A few weeks have passed since the high of our Faces of History event, and since then I have had more than a few desperate-on-the-verge-of-quitting moments. I will doubtless have more of them tomorrow or, if tomorrow happens to be a good day, the day after that. Which is why it is so important to hang onto a memory of the bright spots along the way. Catalogue them in the mental filing cabinet. Pull them out from time to time for a rejuvenating moment of encouraging recollection. Polish them off and let them shine anew.

There is a wonderful story in the book of 1 Samuel about a special moment that took place among the Israelites after a decisive victory of the Philistines. To commemorate the diviney-guided victory, the prophet Samuel “took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, ‘Thus far the LORD has helped us’” (1 Samuel 7:12). Got Questions says of this story, “Ebenezer means ‘stone of help.’ From then on, every time an Israelite saw the stone erected by Samuel, he would have a tangible reminder of the Lord’s power and protection.” In the absence of photo memories, the Ebenezers were the Israelites’ visual evidence of a celebratory moment.

Repeatedly in Scripture, God commands us to remember His faithfulness and provision. He understands that we are a forgetful people, and without reminders to REMEMBER all He has done, we easily fall into discouragement and disbelief, forgetting the times of God’s deliverance in the face of darker moments. This tendency to forget and to stray makes it crucial that we recognize the bright spots, basking in their glory and preserving them in our memories to recall whenever the need arises.

Not every moment will be a bright one, but the dark days make the brilliance of the good ones that much shinier. I am grateful for God’s faithfulness and presence in every moment, even those that feel oppressively difficult, but especially the moments that are bright glimmers of hope when I need them the most.