I've been looking forward to this day for the past few weeks. It's the first day this summer that we don't have anything to do. I mean, sure, there's a banquet for the girls' swim team later this evening, but that's hours away, and until then, I've loads of empty space.
June is always incredibly busy for our family. It's the reason that social media posts from Muscadine Press slow to a trickle, and I all but disappear from your radar. Between shuttling our girls to summer swim team practices and meets, helping with Vacation Bible School at church, preparing for the Mississippi Market wholesale show (and then filling those orders), celebrating our youngest daughter's birthday, fulfilling school PTO responsibilities, and keeping the four of us clothed, fed, and clean-ish, I'm worn out.
My heart and soul are desperate for a bit of rest and a lot of refreshment, and I intend to take full advantage of this last month of summer to get it. Swim team is done. Vacation Bible School is over. The last of the market orders are on the way out the door. That leaves a lot more time for slow mornings at home with my Bible and a cup of coffee, road trips for bringing delight and making memories, and enjoying the sweet blessings of this life that God has been so gracious to provide.
I don't have a lot of deep thoughts for you today, but I do want to encourage you to soak in the sweetness of summer and take delight in God's blessings, both big and small. Read the book that's been sitting on your bedside table. Crank up the worship music, sing at the top of your lungs, and drive with the windows down. Invite the neighbors over for a cookout and watch the kids catch lightning bugs while you chat. Light up a handful sparklers in the driveway. Cut up a ripe watermelon and share it (and a bit of laughter) with your people. Finally, give thanks for it all. These simple things are some of God's sweetest blessings. Enjoy them to the fullest.
Given the option between a life of ease and a life of suffering, I'll take the the easy road every time. Yes please to the good life. Hard pass on the hardship. But Jesus isn't like me. He knew what was to come, and he walked toward it with eyes and arms wide open.
Here lately, every time I hear the familiar chords of an old hymn at church, tears prick my eyes, and it's a real struggle not to ugly cry in the middle of the sanctuary. It's the darnedest thing. Given the sidelong glances she gives me every time it happens, I'm pretty sure that our youngest daughter is seriously worried about me.