Decisions, Priorities

What Should We Do?

Our family has been swirling in activity since the beginning days of 2025. Why? Because crisis after crisis erupted. We asked,

What can we do to help?

when the proper question was

What should we do to help?

It’s hard to think about personal limitations and setting long-term expectations when loved ones are drowning, but as my husband was taught in a lifeguarding class, a drowning person’s first instinct is to drown the rescuer.

As the year ages, we’ve been able to escape with our much wiser lives and realize “can” does not mean “should.” It’s easier to back off when the stakes are low, but as we, friends, and relatives age, the stakes become higher.

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with you God? Micah 6:8

Priorities

Spending Time Doing Nothing

What have I been learning along the way?

“Nothing” can trump “Something.”

As a child, sitting outside at night beside my grandmother—just sitting—while she and my mother and aunts talked was the best part of a day.

Sitting—just sitting—by the sandbox while my great-nephews dug in the sand was the best part of a day.

Sitting on top of Blackrock in the Shenandoah National Park and looking at cloud formations during a sunset was the best part of a day.

My husband and I thought we saw a ship

People watching at a mall and walking through a local library—even when we were in St. Johns, Newfoundland for only a few hours—was better than touring an historic tourist site.

A favorite

Watching the stars would have been superior to attending the cruise ship’s evening program.

Looking at the ship’s wake would have been superior to watching the cooking demonstration and the galley tour.

What do I wish I knew?

The best way to do Nothing so it doesn’t become Something because late September has excellent weather for doing Nothing.

Are you good at doing Nothing?

Book Recommendations, Memories

Mr. Rabbit and the Lovely Present

She likes red,” said the little girl.

Red,” said Mr. Rabbit. “You can’t give her red.”

Something red, maybe,said the little girl.

Mr. Rabbit and the Lovely Present by Charlotte Zolotow

I’ve loved this book since the first time my school librarian read it in 1964. I was in the 1st grade. I don’t think I encountered Mr. Rabbit again until a children’s literature course in college.

I knew Mr. Rabbit was fiction. I knew I shouldn’t follow a rabbit into the woods to look for something red or yellow or green or blue—even if he was polite and spoke perfect English. (You know all this, too.)

Still, it was tempting to think I could.

My husband and I vacationed in the mountains last month and who did we find in the woods? Mr. Rabbit. We knew he would be there because we saw him last time.

My husband said, “Something red, maybe.” (He had read the book to our sons.)

I followed Mr. Rabbit. Just for a photo.

Left: Mr. Rabbit drawn by Maurice Sendek. Right: Mr. Rabbit in the Shenandoah National Park

First grade Book Magic hasn’t disappeared.

Have you experienced lasting Book Magic?

Decisions, Homeschooling, Parenting

Following Other Families

The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.

Henri Nouwen

I thought the perfect families and homeschoolers showcased in magazines and at conventions could show me the way. It turned out they could only give me a picture of the destination because they had never been in my parenting and homeschooling desert.

I don’t regret what I read and attended. I do regret not realizing the journey presented could not be replicated. There were many reasons. The advice-giving parents were from a different generation. They had different challenges and resources. Others had not finished their journey and so they only thought they knew the way.

As the school year geared up, and the challenges abounded, my peers and I rarely had people who could lead us. We stumbled around together and eventually made it.

Almost twenty years have passed since my sons graduated. The desert has changed during that time. As your school year progresses, may you have people to lead you and the wisdom to know who they are.

Thank you, Marie Hannah, for surviving the desert and returning to guide others.

Priorities

What Do I Really Need?

Sometimes I know what I really want (see here). What I wish I had known was what I really needed. Along the way—as in over the summer—I learned that activities I considered selfish wants were important needs.

Spring and Summer events stripped me of all of the following for significant stretches of time.

Bicycling

Conversations with friends

Library visits

My flowers / yard / woods

Reading for enjoyment (actually almost all reading)

Solitude

Swimming

Time with my sons

Walks

Worship with other believers

Each loss took a different toll on my mental and physical health. Combined, it was too much for too long.

What have my husband and I learned? Another’s crisis must be at an extreme level before we travel on a Sunday and miss Worship. Caring for our mental and physical health takes many forms. All aspects of good health are a need—not a want—and must be prioritized.

Are you learning your needs?