THE LULU CHRONICLES
Summer days—touchable, breathable, smell-able gifts from a gracious God. Of course if you’re living where the temps reach triple digits you may have a different take on it. But to a Wisconsinite like myself, these days are golden and full of magic.
What makes promises better than a summer breeze? What restores you back to your childhood quicker than a mud puddle after a summer rain? A child’s laughter ricocheting off white billowing clouds overhead is priceless. The smell of cut grass. Sun warming your bones like a turtle on a rock. Lightening bugs. Hummingbirds. Campfires. The creak of a porch swing. A hammock in the shade. Sweet tea. The bang of a screen door. Oh, the list of summer joys goes on and on.
After a winter that just wouldn’t go away, this summer is particularly sweet. After a season of illness and fear, these warm-your-bones carefree days are manna from heaven. Summer heals. Joy sits under a shade tree. Happiness is a gold finch at your feeder. Friends drinking lemonade on your screened-in porch and grandchildren giggling from a tire swing hanging from a tree in your front yard build up healthy red blood cells almost as good as the drugs meant to do the same.
The Hubs and I are in season of sickness, but summer has a way of mosey-ing us along a daisy-lined path toward the hope of healing. These sweet days are a gift from breathing, sighing Creator.
Don’t waste these days fretting. Do not allow the leaves to begin to fall with regret of a summer lost. Live! Live them to the fullest. Pour strawberries on them. Spit watermelon seeds at them. Walk barefoot through them. Live! Rejoice! Raise your hands toward the heavens and twirl with gladness.