It was wonderful, this summer was. Present days, hours, minutes that I never needed to develop excuses for fully enjoying. Nothing spectacular happened and, for once, I was more than alright with that. I wanted more of the regular days of wake, walk, park, splash in the water, read two pages of a book and toss a cold dinner together. I think I might forever think of Summer '14 as Babies' Best Summer, complete with extra long naps and a wholly unconflicted mom. Emotionally and spiritually I was in a sweet spot, too. I felt strong from our long, hot walks and occasional evening runs, regular time in the Word and even-keel hormones as I happily weaned little Charlie. Good, good and more goodness. His goodness. And I recognized it and fretted not about our modest material situation of one car and no summer getaways. My Target sundress fit like a glove and that, to me, was luxury indeed.
Summer slyly slinked into autumn and I hardly recognized that dreaded golden light that brings with it early sunsets and warns us of impending darker days. What is it about fall that makes one feel like she needs to gear up and get up, and make something of herself? The start of school and new annual commitments surely help perpetuate this feeling and all of the sudden what worked throughout the summer just doesn't anymore. "We're soaking in the fall, just taking it easy, going off the grid, enjoying these crisp, languid days..." said no one ever.
Enter discontent. It took too long to get the kids bundled up for a romp in the leaves. I felt like I was saying no to every play date invitation because, well, no car. We hadn't done anything truly fun and frivilous in a while. Our money was alotted to food, shelter and transport to work with no margin for special dinners or a family day trip. I think the term for it is "budget fatigue"? Boy, did it hit hard. I had felt that God was so near and teaching me so much as we walked side by side in the summertime and then my humanity took a sharp left and I bolted down Self Street, sprinting toward these unatainable goals: a car! a home of our own! an overnight trip for me and Shawn! ASAP and yesterday!
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Goodness gracious. How quickly I forgot that I do not make these things happen. We are given what we are given by Him. Each little thing. Every big thing. In His time. Which is outside of time.
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Needless to say, these realities build a brick wall in the middle of Self Street and I ran smack into it. The welt on my forehead is still going down slowly, steadily and, as it does, I recite the above truths to myself, letting them really sink in. I hope that next time I am tempted to veer off the golden straight and narrow, that I remember this fall. The time when I acted like Christ wasn't enough, the time when I was so inside myself that I nearly missed His constant blessing and provision in my life, not the least of which are playing on the carpet right before me. Charles and Eleanor have been very well behaved for the last twenty or so minutes while I capture these thoughts. It's something I've been meaning to do for a while now.
For we have brought nothing into the world, so we cannot take anything out of it either. If we have food and covering, with these we shall be content. 1 Timothy 6:7-8
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