Yes, it’s almost July already people! How can that even be?!?
It’s already been a whirlwind of a summer, and I just knew I was going to blink twice and it would be back-to-school in August. I have intentionally tried to slow.this.summer.down… but I just can’t! While I realize there are still a strong six plus weeks left of “summer vacation” – I am fully aware of the velocity at which we are speeding towards that unwanted fall destination.
We made a commitment going into summer this year that we would not join, or volunteer, or be in anything that didn’t fall immediately into the “family” or “work” category. Much to the unbelief of some, we did not sign our child up for summer rec. No baseball. No bleachers. No running around. We chose private swimming lessons and starting piano lessons as the only two summer extras during the week. We chose being home nearly every night of the week.
We also chose to go to the lake nearly every weekend, as a family. A sacred place we have come to love and also call “home.” An unexpected community of amazing people and friends that we had never even met before last spring, and now cannot imagine our life without. We were initially all strangers as we parked our campers, but as the weeks passed by last summer, it slowly became this crazy circle of friendships and connections that I’ve never before in my life experienced anything remotely close to.
Last summer we initially went to the lake to heal and to just try find ourselves, to try figure out how to “family” again, after a huge and horrible loss. The first time I walked along the beach watching my first sunset there, I was forty years old, had just buried the baby I had pleaded and begged God to grant me for over seventeen years, and I was getting ready for my oldest to graduate from high school, move out, and start college.
I was looking for me, I was not looking for community. Thank goodness God had other plans.
My oldest moving out and starting college a year ago has been a hard transition for me as a mom. It’s also made me realize, yet again, just how quickly time is marching by, how fast our children are growing, and how important it is to grasp every second with them that we possibly can. They will not be little forever... they will not be ours forever.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for more time again with my teenager… but that season of him under my wings has passed. It’s hard to have to go from praying daily with him, to only being able to fervently praying daily for him from afar…I'm sure I didn't do enough, say enough, teach enough, touch enough, love enough, be enough for him while I still had him at home...
I’ve learned I have to be intentional about grasping life's moments ~big and small ~ or it will be too late, and I will have missed them all.
As I’ve traveled through the last several weeks I’ve found myself on a teeter-totter of emotions varying between feeling incredibly guilty and feeling incredibly blessed.
For the first time last weekend as I sat watching another sunset, capturing the beauty of it that I could through the lens of my camera, I was struck with the reality that I was slowing moving past my season of loss, grief, and devastating emptiness and slowly stepping into a season of fullness and blessing. It caught me by surprise and it's left me at times feeling an incredible guilt over all that I have right now. Satan, and perhaps society as a whole for some reason doesn’t want me to feel this way. And while this guilt keeps me humble and tethered to my past pain, I must continue to tell myself it is ok to dare allow myself to dream again and to enjoy this current season of blessing. I almost don’t dare even talk about, because I know things can change in the blink of an eye…
But I also know, that in all I’ve gone through… that this is a moment to hang on tight to… right now. It’s not going to last forever, but we can choose to try enjoy the ride as long as God allows.
We’ve realize for us it’s time to put in the minimum time at work, it’s time to put in the maximum time at the lake. It’s time to invest in our family and live and love with our friends. It’s time to sit on the deck sipping hot coffee as the sun rises, lounge on the hot beach as the waves lap, letting the kids run, bike, stay up late and eat chips and cookies for breakfast. It’s time to fish, to ski, to watch every single sunset over the magical glassy sea, and relax around the fire with the air filled with birds, crickets, and laughter. It’s time to take hundreds of photos every weekend as I attempt to capture just the briefest and best of details I can, and then neatly print and pack them all away to come back to during a different season.
In all that I’ve lost, and in all that I’ve plowed through trying to emotionally, spiritually, physically put myself back together, I have currently come to this reality and current life motto…
We are not guaranteed tomorrow. We are not guaranteed retirement. We are not guaranteed retirement with our spouses.
All we really have is our “right nows” – and within our “right nows” we can choose whether to just let time continue to slip by, or we can choose to fully grasp each moment, each day, each season for the fullness and intentional greatness that it is and can be. So yes, we have the camper, the boat, the jetski, the golf cart, the entire season at the lake – because right now we have each other, we have our health, we have our jobs, we have parents and our two sons still here on earth…
Because… we can.
While I’m not giving us a free-ride ticket to just be irresponsible, squandering our time, responsibilities, and retirement money, while not caring about anyone but ourselves, I am trying to make a conscious effort to just live life…
To just live life.
God has continued to wake me up every morning, He has continued to wake all of us up every morning, as He has a plan and a purpose for all of us. All of our days our numbered, and we do not know those numbers. Between our first and last days He wants to bless us, He wants to fill us with health and happiness. He has personally brought me to and through seasons of loss and pain, and I know He will bring me to that, or worse, again in my future.
But today, for this moment… for this season… He has chosen to bless me, and while I do feel somewhat guilty, I also feel incredibly grateful.
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