
Artificial Boundaries


1. The future belongs to those who will work for it.
2. The best thing you can spend on your children is time.
3. The only thing left after fire is the stuff you gave away. –Nan Snider
4. Wisdom is the reward you get for a lifetime of listening when you would have preferred to talk.
5. A ship is safe in the harbor, but that isn’t what ships were built for.
The first Don’t Walk sign began operation on this date in 1952. 🙂
Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name;
make his praise glorious!
Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power
that your enemies cringe before you.
All the earth bows down to you;
they sing praise to you,
they sing praise to your name.”
Psalm 66:1-4
1. At first I believed I could. Then I believed I couldn’t. I was right both times.
2. If you removed the rocks, the brook would lose its song.
3. If your mind should go blank, don’t forget to turn off the sound.
4. One thing you can give and still keep is your word.
5. We all face a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.
“Shout and by glad, O Daughter of Zion. For I am coming and I will live among you,” declares the Lord. Zechariah 2:10

Mr. Snowman is sagging. Snow art propped on cars is sagging. The beauty of it all is slowly passing away.
Well, not all. The beauty of the memories is with me, still. The last hurrah of my life as a mommy is still resounding.
I did it. I raised a whole passel of kids and we all thrived.
The promises all were true.
I love this life. I love that we homeschooled. I hope everyone who casts off from the shores of tradition will carry along plenty of life preservers, because this homeschool trip is worth the finishing, no matter the storms. And HMS Homeschool is a tight vessel, a beauty, she is, and laden with the stuff dreams are made of.
I think the thing I love best about homeschooling, though, is snow days. From a small child, I have always loved snow. I would stand by our back door and look out the half window at sun on the snow, when I was just tall enough to see out. It sparkled yellow, over mysterious blue shadows. I could hardly bear it. I always knew no one could really capture that sparkle in painting or photo.
Only experiencing snow really tells the things snow has to say. Its gleam is like the gleam on dew, only brighter and rarer.
I like to think I own that gleam. We all do. It is the gleam we scatter onto our children as we handle their lives when they are too little to handle it themselves. Now they sparkle, like snow, only brighter, rarer, more mysterious, and even more impossible to capture.
But I have experienced them and I know what they have to say.
And I am glad.

The workers will get our roads safe and everyone back in their places eventually. In the meantime, we play in the snow.
The day begins with Dad shoveling snow and bleary-eyed offspring wandering into the kitchen to ask, “What is that noise?” Ha. We so seldom have the pleasure.
Now our snowman stands watch. Our cars are decorated with snow objects. Lots of hot cocoa has slipped down. I enjoyed the crazy antics of our two remaining adult kids, playing in the snow as if they were grade-schoolers. How thankful I am for the snow! Realizing they can still find joy in each other’s company is bliss to this mom.
ALSO—here comes the fun part:
I get all the same fun as when they were younger, but have none of the work.
Another amazing thing: No one grumbles today that the Internet is “down-ish”. We all have decided to do traditional snow-day fun and forget about the rest of the world. I love it. Board games, non-electric musical instruments, laundry hanging on wooden racks by the wood stove, homemade food, and watching birds have risen to the top of our most-selected activities list and everyone is content.
And I wonder: How is it in other homes? I hope you and yours enjoy a great day, today. I pray God grant you peace and contentment.
And snow.