Another inside day—I don’t mind. The kids are bouncing off the walls between their studies, eagerly planning their sledding adventures once we reach that foot they’ve predicted. But for now, we’re tucked inside, where the warmth of home hums along with the rhythms of our daily work.

After ensuring the animals are cared for and everything outside is as it should be, I settle into the kind of tasks that fit a snow day—the ones I’ve been meaning to get to but haven’t had the long, uninterrupted stretch they require. Maybe I’ll make progress on the wallpaper in our room, or I’ll turn my attention to that writing project I can’t stop thinking about. Of course, with all the kids inside this tiny farmhouse, there won’t be long, uninterrupted stretches. 

There will be a million pauses—requests for help, spontaneous bursts of energy, questions about schoolwork, and hungry voices drawn to the scent of soup bubbling on the stove and a roast filling the oven with warmth.

And yet, this is homemaking. These are the days that shape a life—where the work of our hands, the interruptions of children, and the simple joy of doing it all together create something more meaningful than any single task completed. I’m reminded of Colossians 3:23: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.”

It’s a perspective shift—whether I’m starting on dinner, finishing a home project, or pausing to tie a snow boot for the third time. The joy of home isn’t found in productivity alone, but in the togetherness of it all. Every meal prepared, every lesson taught, every conversation is an offering—an act of worship woven into the fabric of daily life.

So as we endure winter’s long stretch, let’s remember the cold doesn’t just test—it shapes us. Beneath the surface, new life waits. When the thaw comes, it will be richer, stronger, and more beautiful. 
 

Rachael Jones