1. to take hold of suddenly or forcibly; grasp
On the agenda for Monday? Work on an Advent unit study, do laundry, catch up on Bible Study, plan for the rest of our week. It started OK. A finished some math work and took her math test. When I went to record her test, I realized I had given her the wrong test - test 11 instead of test 10. She only missed one problem, so I guess that's OK. We'll take test 10 tomorrow.
Then A got started on the first assignment for her Advent study: "Write today's Bible Verses in your journal: Luke 2:52 and Isaiah 61:1-3." Except she copied the first three verses of Isaiah 6, not Isaiah 61. After she copied the verses, A said to me, "Mom? You were right about the seraphim when you described them." I was a bit puzzled. Seraphim? Her verses were supposed to end with a bit about trees. What were angels doing there? And when had I described seraphim to her? At least a year ago. Clearly, the conversation stayed with her. I looked at her work and realized her mistake. I pointed out that the verses were supposed to come from later in Isaiah, then realized all was not lost.
Isaiah 6:8 is another favorite verse of mine because of what Isaiah does after seeing the angels and realizing God's holiness. God says he needs someone who will go to Israel and tell them how far they've come from what He intended. It's not an easy job: Israel is enmeshed in sin cycles and is not going to take this news happily. But Isaiah says, "Send me!" I'm sure there's no one else anywhere around, but I picture Isaiah nearly jumping up and down, waving his arm in the air, Pick me! Pick me! I told A that I want to be like Isaiah. I want to readily go where God sends me, even if the task seems daunting. I also admitted that I'm not quite there yet. There are days when I'm afraid to ask where I should go, much less go there.
While A was working on adding Isaiah 61 to her Advent journal, I was sitting at the table with her. She was to my left, her back to the window. From where I sat, I could see snow falling. Not enough snow that it would accumulate, but enough that it was swirling in the air. I'll pause here to note that snow in Nashville in December is rare. We may get a bit of snow throughout the winter, but we're far more likely to see real snowfall in late January or February. Not December. So this was a rare treat.
I thought to myself, "We should go for a walk." My immediate response? "It's cold out there. And there's still lots of work to be done." After a few minutes of inner debate, I said, "A? It's snowing. Go get on shoes or boots and let's go for a walk." So we did.
It was cold.
It was windy.
It was snowing.
My daughter giggled - several times.
We were chilled, red cheeked and happy by the time we returned.
If you can't seize the opportunity to take a walk in a snow flurry with your ten year old, what's the point in home schooling? As we walked along, a car slowed down beside us. A woman rolled down her window and asked, "Do you need a ride?" "No, thank you," I replied with a smile. As she pulled away, A said, "Little does she know, we're doing this on purpose!" Still, it was a kind offer. But our purpose was to seize the moment, to enjoy the snow, laugh together and remember a friend who now lives in Mexico (A was wearing her hat, so she was fresh on our minds).
The laundry? Wrinkled and still in the basket.
The daily home school plan? Incomplete.
The day? Seized.
It doesn't make me Isaiah. My task wasn't as hard as reminding Israel of how far they'd strayed from God's path. But I think that walk in the snow it was where God wanted me to go. That's something.