The Evolution of a Homeschooling Mom

Whenever people ask me how I found out about BioLogos, I usually give them a quick elevator speech that begins with when I first read Francis Collins’ book, The Language of God. I share how this book deeply impacted me and left me with a profound sense of coming home. It answered many of my questions about science and my faith in Christ but also challenged me to seek God more fully and to invest time in studying His created world.

Dr. Collins’ book also introduced me to the word biologos—a combination of the Greek words for life and word. When I Googled this term, I came upon the BioLogos website and quickly started reading as many articles as I could. I was like a kid in a candy shop! The more I read, the more I excitedly shared with my husband, Mark, all that I was learning. We had many late-night discussions that involved a good cup of tea and evolution.

Mark and I knew we needed to be better equipped to engage in meaningful discussions with our family and faith community on these tricky topics, so we started attending as many events that focused on the science and faith conversation as we could. In 2014, we met BioLogos president Deborah Haarsma at one of these events. When she discovered that I was an educator and homeschooling parent, she connected me with Chris Stump, a BioLogos team member who was developing content for K-12 educators. Since that day, I’ve had the joy of being involved with BioLogos in a variety of ways.

That is the short and sweet version of my story. However, as I reflect back on the last decade of my life, I realize there’s much more to the narrative of how I came to embrace Evolutionary Creation (EC) and how BioLogos became such an important part of my family’s life.

The tree hugger and biology class

As a young girl, I had leanings towards Young Earth Creationism. It was the default view on origins in our family. When I was young, I had the luxury of being oblivious to the tensions between science and the Christian faith. I was an avid nature lover and I just wanted to be outdoors exploring and enjoying the woods where my parents had built our family home. I defined the term tree-hugger! It grieved my spirit to cause any of God’s creatures to perish, including the spiders that made our house their home!

I was blessed to have my grandparents as neighbors. I spent much of my time at their farm, playing in the woods and the creek that meandered throughout their property. As soon as I was home from school I would sneak off to the great outdoors, careful to avoid the notice of my mom, who undoubtedly had work for me to do. My personality lent itself towards social awkwardness and at times I found it difficult to connect with other school kids my age. As an antidote, I escaped to the woods. I found a relieving sense of cathartic acceptance from the animals and insects that made their homes there. More days than not, my mom would find a mud-covered, disheveled daughter standing at the door, waiting to gain permission to enter her tidy home. Permission was rarely granted until I’d spent some time with the hose!

My exploring didn’t stop there. Many a night, I would jump onto the bare back of my horse, head down our dirt road, and make my way into one of my grandfather’s hayfields to do some stargazing and soul searching. My horse would contentedly graze while I lounged on his back and stared up at the stars. I remember aching in wonder at the beauty and mystery of the night sky. Even though the vastness of the universe seemed overwhelming, I never felt alone, but full of God’s goodness and extravagant love for me.

But some of my nature-loving bubble was burst in my high school biology class. Here I was confronted with evolution, common descent, and the age of the Earth head-on. If I hadn’t spent any time thinking about these things before, my biology teacher made sure I gave Darwin and his theory plenty of my teenage headspace. Unfortunately, he missed a wonderful opportunity to bring to life the beauty and complexity of evolution to his captive audience. Because he was so openly hostile towards Christian students and their belief in God, I went away from his class focusing less on “endless forms most beautiful,” and more on the conflict I now saw between my Christian faith and science. Unwittingly, he had planted in me a seed of distrust and skepticism towards science that would take years to root out.

As an English and education major in college, I didn’t spend much of my intellectual energy on issues of science and faith. It was only years later, after Mark and I were married, that I was forced to revisit some of my ideas and beliefs that had been formed in my earlier years. Two life-altering events triggered this reexamination.

My dad and Francis Collins

The first of these events was when my father was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer in the fall of 2011. Despite the prayers of many and a courageous fight, he passed away 11 short months later. His death has had a seismic effect on my entire family. When you lose a loved one to cancer, your life is irrevocably changed and the future you once envisioned with that person is over. For me, my dad was father, friend, and advocate all rolled into one and it has been a difficult process adjusting to his absence.

Before Dad became sick, we would often have animated conversations about what we were reading and learning. He was an avid reader of C.S. Lewis, Alister McGrath, and many other authors who could help him understand his faith more completely. He modeled an openness to follow the truth, wherever it led, and a willingness to speak up for that truth. He loved learning and instilled in me and my sister a passion for asking questions and seeking the truth of God.

Shortly after Dad’s death, I was looking through his library and came upon The Language of God. As this title was new to me and one we had not discussed before, I was intrigued.