(What I wouldn't give to walk in lush, green grass again . . .)
I've just survived my first blizzard, and I'm not talking about Dairy Queen! This day was a little surreal to me. No school for the kids, no work for Ben. We were all home on a Tuesday. How often does that happen? I felt like we lived in our own little world today. No outside influences, except Little House on the Prarie epidsodes, but they're a part of our family (who doesn't love Charles Ingalls, or Pa, as we affectionately call him?). I loved it. I thought a lot today about how grateful I am to have a home. How lucky our kids are to have a home. And not just a place to live, shelter from the cold, but a home, a haven. I embraced the feeling of safety, love, companionship that's felt in a happy home. Sure we have our problems--I'm not blind to those--but there's a spirit of love that lingers notwithstanding. As the mom I feel a great responsibility in that area, however short of the mark I fall at times.
So when it's my turn to say what I'm thankful for on Thanksgiving, I'm going to say, "Home." Because I felt so strongly today that my home really is a sacred place. A place to teach, to love, to learn, to serve, to forgive, to grow, to enjoy, to rest.