Summer is fading out; the proof is in the school supplies aisles and the walnuts beginning to fall in our yard. The heat is fading, at least on days here and there. And sometimes evenings are almost cool. “Come, fall. Come!” cry the kids and the worn moms and the stores ready to pull out the pumpkins and halloween costumes. But a small voice in my head says, “Stay, summer, stay!”
There will never be another summer when my kids are 7,5,3, and 1. While this does seem like a reason to rejoice, maybe it should be more of a reminder to savor. Savor the little years with the little people who bless our lives with their big ways of living.
This week I was struck by a verse, a quiet truthful verse that rang through me and brought into focus a whole year’s worth of grief.
“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”- Romans 12:19
It is such a lovely thing to have clarity and focus and freedom in an area that has felt more like a small splinter stuck in the back of my head. I can’t quite explain it but I feel strangely relieved, and somehow more free.
I tried to hang the above sign in the kids “clubhouse” (formerly known as our front porch) and Drew expressed his disagreement. “We aren’t working here, mom. We’re playing.” I didn’t explain to him that it is the work of kids to play- to create, relate with each other, imagine endlessly, and color on forbidden surfaces. Come to think of it, my kids may be the hardest workers I know.
I’ve posted this picture before, but I passed it in a folder and liked it so much. So thankful for the fullness of life, for the busyness that isn’t living in our minivan on the way to events but is more trying to make space for all the people who have wandered into our everyday life.
Hope this rainy day finds you with a few quiet moments and a friend to share them with.