It happened. Again. I blinked and another summer flew by. And once again I begin September convinced that THIS was indeed my very favorite summer ever. It was not our most eventful summer, but it was among the sweetest and most restful that I recall and I know for sure that I made a concerted effort to savor those days which were relaxed and unstructured. This was quite likely our last summer without the added scheduling of summer jobs for our teens. I just loved having the whole brood home with the exception of a couple of stints at camp and the time we spent immersed in the blessing of our VBS ministry.
I am already hearing aspirations of employment and far-flung mission trips for next year. Couple that with my own penchant for road trips and other explorations, and my suspicion that this may be our last homey summer for a while. So glad that my man is more of a homebody and gives me a sense of being anchored.
I think I am allergic to changes of season, both figuratively and literally. I'm comforted by the observation that I perennially label my current season as my favorite. It's just the change itself that I loathe; the consciousness of it I guess. Once the in-between times have passed I settle in just fine and admire the unchangingness of the One I worship.
That is what I will ponder perhaps tomorrow as I hose off the baby pool one last time and clip back the irises.