Summer spills over

The other day, I switched my desktop wallpaper from pastels to something bright and bold; my eyes needed something different look at. Because the world feels heavy, I find myself wanting to withdraw. I want to curl up in my bed, pull the covers over my head, and not come out until the chaos has passed. I want some quiet, some stillness, some answers, some certainty. I don’t even find that I want rest; I just want less discomfort in the world around me and in my own heart. I want lightness and joy.

Summer, while certainly a time for slower schedules and longer days, is not necessarily a time for retreat. In this season, retreat and withdrawal aren’t giving me what my soul needs most. They may feel like comfort, but they aren’t care. Right now, I need to throw back the covers, to step outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.

I want my flip flops kicked off to the side of the pool, my feet dangling in the water. Hydrangeas so heavy with blooms they could tip over. The pizza crusts brown and bubbly, the cheese gooey and stretching. A melting popsicle dripping down onto my fingers, the sun’s heat more than I can keep up with. Strawberries and watermelon so juicy, the juice dribbles down my toddler’s chin. The condensation on my glass of icy lemonade leaving rings on the table. The summer sun refusing to set, blurring the lines between day and night.

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I can’t keep up with the flipping calendar pages, but I don’t want to live as though they are slipping through my fingers.  I am asking summer to show up in abundance, believing that if it’s true in the kitchen and the backyard, it can be true in my soul as well. I want this season to spill over into every corner and crevice. There will be a time for retreat, for staring at the cold and dark outside the window. But now is not that time.

Summer is spilling over.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activityunder theheavens.

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