With the occasionally crisp, subtle coolness of September in Virginia, my pace usually quickens just a bit in expectant hope. September brings order — the order of days that follow along the tracks of a schedule, the order of deadlines and appointments written in ink. I love order; it gives me a sense of security. Order brings rhythm and rhythm underscores a family in harmony with each other and God.
This September, the week after school started, I found myself staring at a tangle of crossed out “definites” in colors as numerous as the children for which they stood. There was no harmony. We had been walking in chaos and the dissonant noise reached an ear-splitting crescendo. I shut it all down. We completely upended our extracurricular schedule and prayed about some new ventures in new places. Please read the rest here.