I always think about perspective at this time of year because something crazy happens around here. Today it was around 50 degrees when I picked up the girls from school. Five. Zero. But we were not two steps inside the kitchen door before coats were stripped off and all three girls were headed outside bare armed.

I played the cool parent you’ll-learn-this-one-the-hard-way role and waited for them to drag their half-frozen phalanges up to the back door and beg for outerwear.

But they never showed up. Eventually Macy came in with her nose dripping and cheeks aflame to ask for a hat. (See, still refusing my suggestions of jackets or sweaters! This girl might be a touch strong-willed.) Then she was back at it.

Here’s where perspective comes in. Within six to eight months, if the temperature is 50 degrees outside I guarantee my kids will be inside asking for hot chocolate! After a long season of sunshine and heat, we won’t be so eager to dash outside when the temperatures begin to fall.

But, hey, that’s then and this is now. And there is nothing kids are better at than NOW. Maybe that’s a pretty good sense of perspective, too.

Our daughter Claire is a surviving twin. Shortly after their premature birth, Ellery went to Heaven while Claire stayed here with us. Because of this unusual circumstance, Claire seems to have an intimate connection with eternal thoughts and Heavenly speculation. But even though I am often amazed by the questions she asks me, I hadn’t considered how her relationship with her twin sister might develop over time. Now eight years old, Claire wrote a letter at church this week that I thought I’d emotionally torture you with as well. : )

The letter is hand-printed in purple marker onto bright orange construction paper.

Dear Ellery
I miss you very much
I know you are special to me
I love you very much
and I have sisters.
and 1 brother too.
Love
Claire

No one wants to be tolerated. Not really. Even with all our public discussions about the topic, tolerance isn’t our ideal.

We want to be celebrated.

Last week Jesse’s basketball coach threw his team a party, complete with a colorful banner, a themed cake, and personalized trophies.

This was not a championship team. In fact, they didn’t win a single game in their league.

But their coach bought them trophies anyway and each one was inscribed with their name and MVP.

“Because each one of you is a Most Valuable Person,” he told them.

The Church fathers write about celebration as a spiritual discipline, which can sound strange. Doesn’t celebrating come naturally, like the explosive shouts at the end of a championship season or happy tears at the birth of a child? Yes, I think it usually does, but there are times when celebration doesn’t come easily at all. It usually happens when we’re busy or lonely or angry or sad. We just forget that the power to celebrate is in our hands.

John Ortberg suggests finding small ways to celebrate everyday so that your celebrating muscles are strengthened. Try just doing things with children and following their lead. Sing when they sing. Dance when they dance. Laugh when they laugh.

Or, find someone to celebrate. Make a cake. Hang a banner. Buy a trophy. They will never forget it.

You know what’s hard?

Make-up work from school after sick days.

You know what else is hard?

Knowing that you forgot to get your kids flu shots and now all four have gone down with Influenza B. Everyone is recovering, but it’s been a long two weeks.

You know what makes it better?

Hi-C juice boxes delivered in bulk from Grandma!

What gets you through the sick days?

Maybe it’s because my sister is emotionally broken by the effects of chemotherapy and the reality of cancer.

Maybe it’s because my daughter has grown an inch since November.

Maybe it’s because I’ve recently watched the blogs of two relatively well-known Christian women go dark after their lives were devastated by divorce.

All I know is that some things don’t feel quite so important anymore.Things like platforms and networks and recognition.

I love to hang out with visionaries, people with big dreams and big faith and big ambition. Sometimes I think I’m one of those people. But lately, I’m embracing small.

I don’t want the dreamers to stop dreaming. I just think this is a pretty good dream: Living well. Growing children. Cultivating faith. None of it is easy. Most of it doesn’t come naturally.

But I’d rather have a small life that is beautiful than a big life that doesn’t work anymore. It’s not that I think the two are mutually exclusive, but I’m pretty sure anyone with a big life that works is there because they were faithful to spiritual cultivation when it was small.

The problem with visionaries is that sometimes their vision takes priority over their living well, and that won’t work forever. They may be left with a lot of vision but no one with whom they can share it.

Things that are important right now?

- family dinners

- memory verses

- hand holding

- game playing

- keeping promises

What’s on your important list right now?

It is the last day of Serenity’s chemo treatments!

She won’t be able to enjoy our celebration for a few days (see Mom’s post here), but feel free to share your celebratory remarks on her Facebook page (if you are a friend) or here in the comments section. It really helps them pass the day in the infamous chemo pod if they can hear from us throughout the day. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could just keep them distracted reading our cheery notes and encouragements? Go ahead, post a Scripture, a joke, a cute picture of your kids, anything — use your social networking powers for good, my friends!

By 3 p.m. or so today (Friday) the worst should be over.

Amen.

Tuesday night one of my students offered to take my girls to a basketball game. This opened up my evening schedule and spread before me a veritable feast of options for productivity. Would I write? Finish that book that lingers lonely on my bedside table? Clean a bathroom?

It had been a long day within a long week – which, I know, is technically impossible since a day can only be 24 hours, no more and no less – and I wasn’t sure where to put my limited amount of energy.

Then my Twitter feed announced a televised Mizzou game and I knew, that’s it. Not productive, not spiritual, not one among any of my options. But when I watch a Mizzou game on TV, it feels like home.

Jesse and I were home alone, so we microwaved frozen burritos, iced up some glasses, and settled in for an exciting game. Just what I needed.

Tonight I’ll be perfectly energized to trek to the gym to watch Jesse’s team play another team of local 5th graders, and that will feel like home, too. The squeak of shoes on the court, the whistle of the ref, the buzz of the game clock. I love it.

So today I’d like you to light up the comments section with the thing that makes you feel at home. Mine, for this week anyway, is a basketball game. And the people who play as well as the people who watch.

What common thing or place or person makes you feel at home?