By Guest Contributor Amy Warren, Emmaus Academy Parent

It’s raining outside, not much light shines through when the curtains are opened and the day begins. It’s our favorite homeschool weather. We watch the buses drive by and do not envy them. A candle flickers on the kitchen counter as the coffee timer suggests to the coffee maker that it’s time for new beginnings. The kids know morning time will begin at 8:30. They pile in one by one. The oldest has been up for an hour or two working on his hardest subjects in an effort to get them behind him before the other two have even rolled out of bed. The middle child has an alarm set for 8:25. She grabs the coffee and a blanket, tossing herself onto the comfy chair. The youngest wants to snuggle on the recliner, though the days of us fitting in this singular chair are fleeting. 

I pull up the hymn and we listen together. I’m hopeful the lyrics aren’t lost on these three, as “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” brings to mind how this rhythm has blessed us. Jesus is that gracious Fount – the Fount of all of this. 

Poetry-recitation, Bible-reading, history snippets, discussion of habits all set the tone for the day. We move into the converted dining room. One day this may hold a china cabinet where these book shelves will be mere memories, and I’m certain I’ll miss all of this. Latin and math are best tackled shoulder to shoulder before the morning gets away from us. “Let’s see how much you can do by yourself. I have the answer key and am right here if you need me.” He needs me less and less; I am equal parts proud and heart-broken. Literature is my favorite. What spot can we envision for maximum story-enjoyment? A big soft blanket on the bed will do as we take turns reading a page. “No, the next chapter must wait until tomorrow. We cannot read ahead.” He never expected to like this one, and yet it captures him. He takes a break, and I check in with my oldest two. Quizzes have been proctored, scanned, and submitted. “Is now a good time to recite my poem to you?” she asks. I sit so proud I could burst. How is this sweet girl who fit in my lap just yesterday this poised, articulate, smart, able to memorize and tell this story of old with her eyes, her motions, her cadence? I hear and see and feel its meaning. I set my mind again on every blessing, and its Fount. 

Lunch break calls and the sun is peeking through the clouds. Bikes, walks, basketball, and our bodies get refreshed. After lunch my oldest pops in to narrate a chapter he’s read in Genesis. Genesis and Gen Z collide in this particular narration when he says, “Bruh, where’s the lamb for the sacrifice?” I don’t correct him. 

The afternoon progresses and so do our subjects. History. Geography. Grammar. We wander outside and search for insects. We sketch them. We see the Fount in all of these patterns. We have chosen this path. And yet the blessings found on it – the togetherness, the slow mornings, the beauty, the growth, the challenges overcome, they are all gifts from our loving Father. He has tuned my heart to sing His grace. These days at home – they are my streams of mercy, never ceasing, calling for songs of endless praise.