MPE celebrated our 40th anniversary in 2026, exploring how homeschooling began in the Kansas City area. We heard from past leaders, students and current board members. One of our featured speakers was former long-term president Todd Kangas, who has shared some excerpts from his speech below.
Thank you for inviting me to celebrate with you on this 40th anniversary.
The last time I spoke to a homeschool group, I was the keynote speaker at a conference in Tokyo in 2018, right after emceeing my last MPE graduation.
During morning prayer in Tokyo, the Holy Spirit impressed on me to add something I had not planned. I’ll begin my talk tonight with that same truth as this came to my heart in prayer this morning.
This is probably the most important thing that you can communicate to your family as you homeschool.
How does God the Father love Jesus the Son? He loves Him eternally, from before the foundation of the world, with a love that has no beginning and will never end. He loves Him unconditionally and wholeheartedly, with an undivided devotion that is never earned and never in question. He loves Him passionately and tenaciously, with a steadfast faithfulness that never fades. He loves Him with a Father’s love: tender, intimate, and close, holding Him face to face in unbroken fellowship.
How does God love Jesus? He loves Him unabashedly, declaring it openly from heaven: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” He loves Him generously, withholding nothing. His love is infinite, immeasurable, and holy. There is nothing Jesus will do in a million years where God will love Him 1% more. There is nothing Jesus will do in a million years where God will love Him 1% less. His love isn’t performance based.
And the wonder of John 15:9 is that Jesus says, “Just as the Father has loved me, so have I loved you, abide in My love.” This is the very love with which we are loved.
And how does Jesus love you and me? He loves me eternally, from before the foundation of the world, with a love that has no beginning and will never end. He loves me unconditionally and wholeheartedly, with an undivided devotion that is never earned and never in question. He loves me passionately and tenaciously, with a steadfast faithfulness that never fades. He loves me with a special love: tender, intimate, and close, holding me face to face in unbroken fellowship.
How does Jesus love me? He loves me unabashedly, declaring it openly from heaven: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” He loves me generously, withholding nothing. His love is infinite, immeasurable, and holy.
There is nothing I will do in a million years where Jesus will love me 1% more. There is nothing I will do in a million years where Jesus will love me 1% less. His love isn’t performance based.
Homeschooling’s costly beginnings
I joined Johnson County Parent Educators in late 1988, after we moved from Omaha. I later served as president for 20 years, ending in 2018.
I am here as one of the early ones—not because we were especially brave, but because we were parents who believed God had given us a responsibility we could not outsource.
When homeschooling began in Nebraska, we watched government react to families who chose something other than the approved path. A Baptist church near Omaha was padlocked. The pastor went to jail. The issue was not violence or neglect. It was a church school that refused to submit its teachers and ministry to state certification.
Shortly before we came to Kansas, Bonnie Sawyer was arrested in Johnson County. Those events were not distant news stories. They were the climate we stepped into.
Homeschooling began not as “an option,” but as a conviction that could cost you your building, your reputation, and, for some, your freedom.
We did it anyway. Not because we were certain of the outcome, but because we were certain of the Caller. The line I still carry is simple: “Do not doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light.”
There were dark days—thin resources, skeptical relatives, church members who thought we were unwise, and the constant weight of wondering whether we were doing enough.
The light had already come: these children were ours to raise, and the Lord would give daily bread if we asked for it.
When we arrived here, there were about forty-four homeschooling families in Johnson County—about the same number we had left behind in our church in Omaha. We felt the isolation of a new city. Many of us could not find the support we needed inside our own churches.
So we joined together as homeschooling began in KC. Different denominations sat in the same living rooms. Doctrine did not disappear, but it took a back seat to the shared work of teaching children at the kitchen table.
My wife still meets every other month with eight of those women. They were young homeschool moms together. Several later served as president of this organization. The friendship outlasted curriculum fads, moves, and church changes. That may be one of the quiet miracles of this movement.
The work itself was not romantic. It was a twenty-four-hour job with no vacation from the children. Resources were scarce. You photocopied, borrowed, invented, and planned weeks ahead. The library was a valued resource. Creativity was survival. Sacrifice was real.
So was loneliness—until someone else showed up with a pot of coffee and the same exhausted look.
Look around now. Homeschooling began as a counter-cultural movement, but today it feels almost mainstream. That is a gift we did not have.
It is also a temptation. When something becomes ordinary, we can forget why it was costly.
Eternal dividends on your investment
A few things I would leave with anyone still engaged in homeschooling.
Regarding your children, catch them doing something right. Unsolicited praise brings great encouragement.
Each child is unique. The program that fit one sibling may crush the next. Flex to the strengths of each child.
God gave us emotions. Many of us were taught that children should “rule their spirit” and keep feelings quiet. That produced performance. It did not always produce secure children. Attune to them. Validate what they feel. A child who knows they are safe will receive truth better than a child who is only trying not to fail.
When we sin in front of our children—and we will—confess it. Admit the wrong. Ask their forgiveness. That is how we model true humility.
Performance is not the end-all. The pressure to outscore the system we had left leaked onto our children. Scores matter less than a soul that still wants to learn.
Find ways to have fun as a family. If the house is only a school building, everyone will eventually resent the school.
And pray. “Give us this day our daily bread.” Not next year’s bread. Today’s.
One last observation. When homeschooling began, the moms I saw laboring at home to produce fruit that remains turned out to be some of the most dedicated women of God I know.
Desperate daily for grace, the tears they cried drove them to Matthew 11:28–30: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
These moms met the living Christ, who gave them strength and encouragement to carry on. If there is a hall of fame for mothers, these women would be enshrined first, hearing God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
To my wife, and to every other homeschool mom—I applaud you. I believe the investment you made will produce eternal dividends.
Forty years is long enough to see both the fruit and the bruises. I am grateful for the pioneers who stood when the locks went on the doors. I am grateful for the women who kept showing up for one another. I am grateful that a generation of children grew up knowing their parents thought they were worth the cost.
May the next 40 years be years of increasing fruitfulness. And may we still refuse to doubt in the dark what God showed us in the light.
