Well, I'm probably in the minority here, but I love the snow. We don't get a lot of snow here, so the 10 or 12 inches that we've gotten have shut us down pretty good.
Frankly, I love an excuse not to leave the house. We've got food, fire, and movies. The kids can play outside til they're so cold they can't stand it. Plus, it'll make spring seem that much more miraculous. We'll be tired of each other and ready for company in March. I think winter is God's perfect plan to remind his people of the fact that they need each other. The snow insulates us from the world. News is less newsworthy and nothing matters quite as much as what we're doing inside our four walls.
It's funny how three days of snow has altered our routine so much. I don't feel the urgency to wake everyone up and get things going. We make breakfast, while we eat we watch the birds at the feeders. Some of us go outside to play in the snow, some start on their school work. Mom and Dad hang out at the dining room table reading comics aloud to each other. Boys come in, clothes are thrown in dryer. Every day school gets done, laundry gets done, people get fed, and rooms are tidied.
It seems that my mind relaxes when I cannot think of a million things I could or should be doing. Each day I focus on what we need first then what we want.
I can become so enamored with shiny things - other curriculum to choose from, Pinterest projects, recipes from across the web, blogs that are polished and amazing and have the best photos, that I forget that what I've got is what I've got.
As I watch the birds in the snow I think. I think about where they go when they're not at the feeder, I wonder if they're cold, I wonder if they're happy to have the feeders full every day. I wonder if they care that I broke the suet up and sprinkled it on the ground so that they can have some extra energy. I wonder if they know that tomorrow the temperatures are going to be dangerously low. I wonder if they are worried about how they will prepare for the impending drought in 2050.
I can get a little out of hand in my thinking.
What I know about those birds is this: they don't worry. Those little birdies that I love eat when they are hungry, sleep when they are tired, and fly when they want to go. That's a paraphrase of Matthew 6:24-35. Jesus is a little more eloquent than I am.
I'm going to try and keep this snow day rhythm I've got going even after the snow melts. I'll just let Jesus be my insulation from the world.
It seems that my mind relaxes when I cannot think of a million things I could or should be doing. Each day I focus on what we need first then what we want.
I can become so enamored with shiny things - other curriculum to choose from, Pinterest projects, recipes from across the web, blogs that are polished and amazing and have the best photos, that I forget that what I've got is what I've got.
As I watch the birds in the snow I think. I think about where they go when they're not at the feeder, I wonder if they're cold, I wonder if they're happy to have the feeders full every day. I wonder if they care that I broke the suet up and sprinkled it on the ground so that they can have some extra energy. I wonder if they know that tomorrow the temperatures are going to be dangerously low. I wonder if they are worried about how they will prepare for the impending drought in 2050.
I can get a little out of hand in my thinking.
What I know about those birds is this: they don't worry. Those little birdies that I love eat when they are hungry, sleep when they are tired, and fly when they want to go. That's a paraphrase of Matthew 6:24-35. Jesus is a little more eloquent than I am.
I'm going to try and keep this snow day rhythm I've got going even after the snow melts. I'll just let Jesus be my insulation from the world.
Sharing stories comes as naturally to me as breathing.I write here so I can do that. Grab a cup of something and stay a while.
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