I was not ready to pry my fingers off of our family’s sublime summer experiences and box them away as memories.
I’m not saying it was an easy summer.
In fact, as we ushered in May, we were homeless, with all of our belongings in 3 vehicles and 3 different storage units scattered in a 60-mile-perimeter triangle of our new home (which was 400 miles north of our old home).
Before barely thinking of unpacking, we spent a solid week bending over shovels and hoes, turning sod, preparing a garden, and planting fruit trees and a strawberry patch. Because one daughter had started dreaming of luscious crops in February, when we found a home on 14 rolling acres. And the window of planting time was about to close.
The next 8 weeks we labored over refinishing 200-year-old floors and painting, painting, painting oh-so-many walls.
Thankful for the flexibility of homeschooling, we had worked diligently last winter, finishing the school year before our pending move. Of course, the learning never stopped, it just changed course to hands-on unit studies in gardening; antique wood floor refinishing; detailed nature studies on insects, reptiles, amphibians, flowers, and mammals we had never seen before; and continual hands-on history lessons. Living in a home built in 1800, in a small town that values the stories of its beginnings, we are surrounded by history lessons.
And of course we had to often allow time for hours of swimming, mornings of scenic hikes, afternoons spent lazily tubing down the river or kayaking in mountain lakes,
and late afternoons with bare toes dug in cool grass and thoughts lost in a good book.
We had to allow even more time than usual for these consequential moments because we all felt the time dwindling down. The time we had left as a family of 6. With all 4 sisters still living together amidst the same red, clapboard walls. Before my eldest started college life.
This summer was the hardest fun of my life. I complained to God for weeks that I couldn’t bare to let it go, close it up, and only visit this summer again via pictures and journals. But then He graced my days with invigorating, crisp mornings; uninhibited fog hanging over the lake;
and sweet, juicy, warm tastes.
He showed me, at Parent’s Weekend, a daughter who has learned for herself how every new season has a vibrancy of its own. A daughter who is prepared and suited for college life.
And He reminded me that His goodness is not just for a season, but from generation to generation. And He doesn’t just fill one season with felicity. He fills my heart with a lifetime of joy.
He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy. Acts 14:17