I recently heard someone say, "Don't think outside of the box... live like there is no box!"  Or something in that price range.  When you see a quote like that on Facebook you immediately want to hit the "like" button, but after you do what really changes about the way you live your life?  What changes about the way I live mine?

This week my family made the decision to live like there was no box to contain us.  We threw caution to the wind, loaded up the car, locked up the house, and headed off for some deeply needed family together time.  Piano lessons and swim practices were canceled, despite their stringent "make-up policies" that always seem to have more clauses than a free ticket on United.   But the most difficult box for me to deny was the box we call School.  Schools are even shaped like boxes, with bunches of little boxes stacked inside, filled with children learning to behave within the boxes of life.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not an anarchist!  The rules school-children must learn to obey are nearly all, if not all, great boxes to help them prepare for life outside of that box.  But what about when a great box gets in the way of something even greater?

Like this...

And this...

Or even this...

We spent four glorious days hiking, watching old movies, reading exciting novels, playing video games, sight seeing, eating and sleeping.  One of the highlights for me was, and always is, walking down the backside of our property up in Northern California.  My husband always points out the poison oak, identifies what type of bones the boys find scattered around our little slice of wilderness, and comes to their rescue when they climb a ridge just a bit too high.

On this particular climb my eight year old pointed out some unusual patterns in the dirt and asked his Dad what they were from.  Matt pointed up the hill and described the erosion that was taking place on the land due to the rain.  Caleb's eyes lit up, because he had just learned this past month in his Science class all about soil, planting, irrigation, and erosion.  Caleb then suggested to his Dad that they plant some more plants, "because leaf litter and plant roots help to stop erosion."

You see the facts of knowledge that were learned in Caleb's 2nd grade classroom came to life outside of the box.  And I got to thinking about how true this is in many other area of our lives as well.  We learn in Sunday school that Jesus loves us... for the Bible tell us so. But on the slippery slopes of life where erosion can cause us to stumble, we sense our need for a Savior and truly learn of His Grace.  In the box of the wedding chapel we say our vows, but in the messy world of life together we learn to love and honor, serve and submit.  So many things are taught our children in the safe confines of our boxy little homes, but I dare say that the lessons come to life as we "walk along the way" together.

Truth be told, while I might be a dreamer, I'm also a rule follower, so breaking the walls down to explore the world and learn with them on these little adventures isn't always easy for me... but I believe it's crucial.

I heard it said that the knowledge we learn from text books is like the skeletal system of a man; historical fiction is the blood and guts, the organs and the skin; but it's real life exploration and experiences that bring it to life.

That's what we did these past few days as a family in Northern California.  We broke down some boxes and roamed free a bit, bringing knowledge to life.