For those of you who live up north, I know snow can get boring this time of year. But for those of us who live in southern Tennessee, snow — particularly the kind which lasts for more than 24 hours — is a rare treat indeed. When we moved into our new homestead back in 2022, we received 0 inches of the fluffy white stuff all winter. But last month, the polar vortex managed to reach down into our typically mild state, and we got enough snow to coat the roads and cancel all our plans.
The children took to building snowmen, sledding down our hill, constructing snow forts, and pelting each other with snowballs. And yes, Jason and I participated, feeling much like kids ourselves in the new winter wonderland. It was a magical day in our personal Narnia …
But I almost missed it.
Why?
Because I’m a recovering utilitarian/homesteading/homeschooling mother of five who can sometimes feel more like an air traffic controller than a serene maternal subject in one of Mary Cassatt’s paintings.
(Things have gotten easier now I’m out of the toddler years.) Even so, the laundry won’t do itself. Meals do not magically appear on the table. And all brooms and pitchforks must be hand-operated. There’s always something to clean, something to fix, something to build, or something to settle between siblings. If it weren’t for regular date nights, Sunday naps, and afternoon/evening tea times, I would have burnt out years ago.
So it is with some embarrassment that I recall how I almost missed the magic on that snowy Monday morning. As a homeschooler, I cannot strike snow days off my attendance ledger; I have to report a minimum of 180 school days per year, regardless of when we do them. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to knock out our schoolwork, “count” the day, and go outside afterward? Isn’t it more productive to always work before play? Maybe even more godly? Or at least American?
Then a new thought stuck me; this very well could be the last snow day my eldest son gets before graduating from high school.
WHAT?!
I suddenly realized that trying to be more efficient by hitting the books when I didn’t have to would be tantamount to negligence. If I really want my children to be in wonder of God’s world, how could I justify shutting them up indoors to stare at papers and screens when it’s so gorgeous outside? How could I squander a snow day knowing what a gift it is?
I know it’s important to have healthy routines in education and home management.
But if I enthrone efficiency above every other virtue, I will miss out on cultivating character.
What matters more? That I check off a box or capture a moment? That I blaze through my to-do list, or take the time to connect? That my kitchen is pristine or that I made a mess to feed my family? (And then taught my kids responsibility by having them help with dishes?)
The fact is, life is made up of moments, and they can so easily be undervalued, misused, or taken for granted. Not every waking moment needs to be productive in order to be valuable. It is good to work. It is better to work well. But sometimes, it’s best to put people over projects. To enjoy the time, rather than to commodify it.
There’s no end to all the work which must be done. Pacing is important. But to be honest, most of my projects can wait an hour. Or even a day or two.
But not the snow.
Nor the limited time I have with my kids to enjoy it.
Love it! Encouraged my soul.
Lovely reminder of what matters!