Time is rushing by, crushing in. Flooding this space, bringing the walls collapsing under the weight. Sometimes it seems like I’m just using gasping breaths to try to catch up, but never pulling in enough oxygen to keep up the pace. I panic. But through the cracks of the crumbling walls, shafts of light appear, hints of new adventures calling from outside. Often, I’m not brave enough to see them.
Instead, everything is a blur. All the colors mixed together. Movies scenes flashing by, camera stuck on spin. And I feel like I’ve ended what I’m not even sure I began. Like I’ve missed the greatest wonder. Like I’ve lost a grip on all my hopes and plans, the picture perfect vision I’d painted has faded all too fast.
But then I stop and let my soul truly view it, the fullness and richness of these past months. When things seem like they’re speeding straight off a cliff into the routine of a new school year and the pressures it brings, I close my eyes and list off what HAS happened this summer, the thousand joys, big and small. The lessons learned, the dreams pursued, the realization that success is doing what God created me to do, in whatever ways He brings across my path for that to happen. It’s about how close I’ve walked with and loved Jesus and others each day.
Choosing to slow down and intentionally capture the ordinary and dare to call it the extraordinary. A bold move in today’s lightening pace, win-each-race, everything-not-special-erase culture. A beautiful reward. Making room to enjoy simple rhythms, to let your soul be alive, to fully grasp the details of whatever scene just played out. So instead of making a movie, filled to the brim with amazing things you never truly see, you get the full coverage, including the messy and random in a behind the scenes feature that you get to LIVE. There is so much more hope this way.
This is why I fill notebooks and journals, snapshot life from a thousand perspectives and post it with captions. In an effort, consuming, overwhelming, worth it, to find the meaning. Fighting against the current the whole way. To not just pay my respects to the sunlight at the end of the day, time’s nightly grave. But to be able to stand up and recount all the best stories, along with the terrible, the ugly, the wildest, and the most normal ones. And each one just as precious and prized because I lived them. They’re mine, given to me as part of a grander design.
So this girl, though not prepared for the transitions ahead, is choosing celebration (a good life motto I think). Thankful for this summer and the dreams it’s allowed me to pursue, the grounding it’s allowed me to gain, the hopes it’s kindled, the connections strengthened. Days of never ending sunshine. Conquering fears of looking terrible and just running, discovering a new outlet. Time to celebrate all the joy and sadness of life with family. Reigniting the creative spark inside. Diving into other worlds through reading. Movie nights, the break they are, the reminder of how to live our stories better that they are. Exploring and adventuring and participating in the world around you. Working with sweet kids in many ways, especially at VBS, practicing long needed skills (guitar, driving). A week of going home to a favorite thing, always life changing summer camp. A rested mind. A richness of community. Memories and great discussions with friends. Healthier habits formed. A genuine prayer life restored. A heart relying more on the One who made it. And so many more gifts. A treasure piled high that I am sitting on, learning how to cherish and give parts away. What will you choose to look back on?
Ready or not, here the last days of summer come. But then on to even better adventures, greater challenges, different days. All with savoring: the bitterness of parts ending, the sweetness of every flavor this summer’s brought, all mixing in to a great chapter in this story, in this wonderful summer rush.