Thank You, Summer
I can feel it. I’m sitting in the calm before the storm. But coming it is—Accuweather sent notifications today to warn me.
The air is still. The locusts are vibrating their late summer song, back and forth as if in a round. A rumble occasionally sounds in the distance and a brief tinge of a breeze wafts through. But mostly just still. There is something about sitting on the porch listening, anticipating, and celebrating the moment. My doodle and I are sharing this space and moment, though she isn’t aware of the details because there is a ball in the vicinity. Only I am aware—and grateful.
It’s early September and the weather is supposed to shift after this coming front. Today looks to be the final day in the 90*’s for the 2025 year. While the next month promises to be heavenly, there is something to acknowledging the passing of summer. The humidity will lessen. Something will smell different. I don’t know what that something is, but I know it will. With this storm and on this evening, we are on the edge of change. Trees will feel it and cut their water supplies off from the leaves, which will lose their green pigment and become a painted backdrop of browns, oranges, yellows, reds, and everything in between. It is both refreshing and exciting. As the temperatures shift and autumn approaches, it means football (who am I kidding, it’s about the band), the state fair, soups, cider, chili, sweaters & sweatshirts, boots, fires… so many good things come with the shift and they are reasons I love the fall. Also, maybe it has something to do with it being the time of year that my husband and I got to know one another and fell in love, or the coziness of blankets and books in front of the fire with warm drinks. Maybe it is the relief from thick, oppressive heat and humidity, or that cooler temperatures will allow more outdoor time. Yes. Yes. Yes. And Yes.
Even as I am sitting here anticipating what is to come, it’s important to acknowledge the gifts that summer held. So, as a thanksgiving prayer of sorts, I want to name some of them. Maybe you would like to participate in this practice of acknowledging what summer held for you. Hear me encouraging you on.
In May, I was able to take a group of adults to walk the Camino Inglés from Ferrol, Spain to Camino de Santiago. The lessons, gifts, and challenges of pilgrimage are too many and will require a post of their own. But having the opportunity allowed me to grow in new ways, exploring new avenues of leadership.
Upon returning I finished a yearlong course, Morning Altars, that offered both instruction and experiences in new ways of leading. It focused on nature, the earth and what it provides, as our teachers and healers, allowing us to receive and create in ways that can bring newness. I “graduated” and can use these tools and resources as I make my way forward. All of our children, their loves, and our grandson were with us for a few days. And, oh my heart! No matter what we’re doing, it’s my favorite!
Listening to the voices of other Baptist leaders from around the world at the Baptist World Alliance meeting was meaningful. This was followed by spending a week on vacation exploring new places with my husband, which was a gift. We met a tree that was estimated to be 2500 years old and another estimated to be 3500 years old. (another post!) We walked in the rainforest, walked on beaches, and even survived traveling on the wrong side of the road.
Our Fernly dog suffered an injury that almost derailed our trip plans and brought with it concern and sadness. It required keeping her still for weeks and surgery. It’s been a long, worrisome, expensive slog but she is starting to regain strength. It is good to see her having fun again. Special shout out to our dear friends, Tom & Lynn, who love her and helped care for her!
“Regular work”, household chores, a few potted veggies—all of the blessed ordinary things—have filled in the rest. The ordinariness, work, personal growth, opportunities, rest and travel, great friends, skilled caregivers, and my healing dog are worthy of my appreciation. Thank you, summer, for every meaningful experience.
And now, I wait for what is to come. No storm yet. A few sprinkles alone. But tomorrow is supposed to have a high of 71*, so there’s that.
I’m waiting—my heart filled with thanks and a happy expectation for what may come.