A Sacred Ending

Today is the last day of school for my twins..

Even as I write that sentence, I feel the weight of it deep in my chest—equal parts joy, pride, and a soft ache I wasn’t quite prepared for.

As a family that has homeschooled for the past 12 years, this moment holds so much more than a checkbox on a calendar. It’s more than a graduation or the turning of a page.

It’s a culmination.
A sacred ending.
A holy exhale.

For twelve years, my kitchen table has been a classroom. The floor of our living room, a stage. The backyard, a lab. The beach, a field trip. The world itself—our curriculum.

And for twelve years, I’ve had the unspeakable gift of watching my children learn not just facts and formulas, but truth and beauty and wonder. I’ve been their teacher. But also their fellow sojourner—learning right alongside them.

Each year was different, but some things remained constant:

☀️ Mornings that began slowly with sleepy eyes and warm mugs.
📖 Devotions that anchored us in truth.
🎶 Memory songs that still echo in our hearts.
📚 Stories that shaped our imaginations.
✍🏼 Writing, reading, debating, discussing.
🌱 Gardens tended, beaches explored, hands-on learning lived out in real time.
🏕️ Camping trips, hikes, paddle boards, messy art, shared chores, and so much grace.

And woven through it all: prayer.

Around the table. In the car. At bedtime. In the hard moments and the holy ones.

A steady whisper of dependence and delight in the One who entrusted these years to us.

There were fires.
Literal and figurative ones.
Tears and triumphs.
Hard conversations.
Stretching seasons.
But God met us in every one of them.

Today feels like the end of an era—not just for my kids, but for me.  My role as their primary teacher is complete.  I didn’t expect to feel this much.  

But I do.  

Because it matters.

I want to be intentional about sitting in that.

To not rush ahead to “what’s next,” but to pause and treasure what was—and to honor all that God has done in and through our family in this sacred season.

To all of you walking through your own season of “lasts”… 
You are not alone.
Your heart might feel full and broken at the same time.

That’s okay. That’s love.
That’s proof that you were all in.

And it’s worth celebrating.

So today, I’m rejoicing in every part of it. The learning, the laughter, the tears, the trust, the growth, the grit, the grace.  

What a beautiful adventure we’ve had.