Summer.

Image result for wildflowers

I can’t help but feel like I’ve been cheated from the last few days of summer. Our schools do not start until after Labor Day and we were to be spending the weekend at the family lake cabin cramming in our favorite summer activities: swimming, roasting marshmallows, grilling and just relaxing in a way that just doesn’t seem to happen the rest of the year.

Instead, we spent the first night awake with a sick daughter. The next morning, we promptly packed our bags and took ourselves and our germs home. I then cried – which I always do at the end of summer – when I had to put away swimsuits, water shoes, floaties and other summer accouterments that often need to be replaced the following year. One more summer has passed – one more beautiful season and its little accessories will no longer hold my kids. Now they will only hold memories. And this end of summer feels particularly painful because my daughter starts kindergarten this fall.

Yet as I dried my tears, I began to look around the house and see all that needed to be done. My husband had been traveling and will be traveling a lot this fall, and most of our summer weekends were spent on grand adventures across our beautiful state. While this has been fun, it feels like we’ve been going at a breakneck speed that was beginning to wear this introvert down. It all culminated with the perfect metaphor: we tried to eat one more meal outside and my chair went through a rotting board in our deck. Needless to say, we needed to take care of our family and our home.

Alas, the surprise time at home quickly turned into a blessing. My husband replaced the board and mowed the lawn. I cooked nourishing food and we snuggled as a family on the couch watching a movie. I decided to do some writing after a summer of neglecting my creative side for my physical side. This last summer weekend has replaced the broken boards of our souls, trimmed the overstimulation and nourished our spirits. A weekend home with my family is exactly what we needed.

I spent this time on a new idea (well, new to me) from Emily P. Freeman. I kept a rough list of things I learned this summer and reflected on these once the season came to a close. So without further ado: What I Learned This Summer.

11. Stop the Comparing Game.
This has always been on my list of things to work on and it probably always will be. I’ve chosen to take a quieter path for this season of life and even then, I feel overwhelmed with the daily tasks of raising young children. I see other women with high power careers and a million little hobbies and can’t help but feel like I’m underperforming.

But I found out this summer that someone we knew, someone who seemed to have it all, was going through a rather painful divorce. Her hobbies after a fulltime day job and raising two kids were simply a distraction from a difficult and painful marriage.

Wow.

As I slow down and spend more time talking with people, it seems like the ones I labeled as “having it all” or “doing it all” are just as confused and doubt-ridden as the rest of us. Maybe it looks different for each person, but we all have our battles and handle them differently. My worth is not from a “to-do” list and I need to do what is best for myself and my family.

22.  God Made WildflowersI trained for a half marathon this summer, so I spent a lot of time listening to Emily P Freeman’s podcast on long runs and bike rides. As I pedaled my bike down a beautiful trail along the Mississippi River, Emily spoke of wildflowers and how God made wildflowers that most of us don’t ever see. He didn’t have to make the world so beautiful, but he did.

So, if God spent that much time making a wildflower beautiful, imagine how much time he spent/spends/will spend on you.

Again, wow
.

These words spoke to my soul and I teared up as I looked at the perky, optimistic yellow flowers bordering my bike. After quitting my job to stay home with my kids, this summer sometimes felt like a never-ending marathon of thankless work.  It is painful to admit, but I missed being “seen” by the world. I missed being “seen” as a productive member of society, one with a paycheck and responsibilities. I missed being “seen” as an adult with intelligent ideas and witty repartee.
Emily’s beautiful words reached me in my state of frustration. I don’t have to be “seen” by the world when I am “seen” by God. And that is enough.

33.  Life as Narrative. Another of Emily Freeman’s podcasts I listened to (I believe Episode 15), talks about life as a narrative. She says, “In Christ, we live a narrative of joy” and refers to any time we feel “stuck” as a mere plot point on the great story of our lives.

Let’s just say if my life is a novel, this summer would be one monotonous chapter. As I mentioned, I somewhat consciously made the decision to step away from writing to spend my summer with the kids and soaking up a lot of Vitamin D before another long, cold winter.  

So my days began to look very much the same: run, shower, cartoons, breakfast, get the kids dressed, kindly remind the kids to get dressed, tell the kids we aren’t going anywhere if they don’t get dressed NOW, park/library/beach, lunch, nap, play outside, dinner, let the kids stay up too late, crash into bed.

Not a lot of time in there for sitting quietly contemplating the meaning of life – or at least creating something meaningful.

But applying this idea of our lives as a narrative – we get to choose what kind of narrative it is. It may not have been the most exciting summer and I may not have done those workbook pages or Pinterest-worth crafts. But I’m sure a few months from now, I will find something meaningful in those seemingly boring days. Certain parts will stick in my mind and my mind will weave these sticky threads into a beautiful tapestry that will focus on the bright and brilliant colors rather than the dull and monotonous. Perhaps I will see that I was planting seeds this summer and would later watch them grow into technicolor plants.

Perhaps it is the same with my writing hiatus. Perhaps this break allowed ideas to mull in the mead of my mind, and when I open the barrel this fall, ideas with brand new spices and flavors will pour forth from my kind onto my laptop. Hey, I can dream, right?

But what I really learned? The trick to this whole narrative thing is to try and step back and see that this season of life is just a small part of the story. To try and see in the moment that this is a necessary, albeit less exciting, chapter of life.  And that no matter what, it is part of a loving narrative in Christ.

44.  Cannot Take Do More Than Four Stops with my Kids
I’m sorry if this makes me a bad mom. But when I try to cram too much into a day with my kids in tow, everyone ends up cranky. I’m not sure why it is so soul-sucking to get kids in and out of the car, but I’ve found everyone is happier when we limit the stops – even if they’re fun – to two or three.

55. Can Run 13.1 MilesI ran a half-marathon this summer. Not only did I train my body for this race, the race trained my brain. It became a benchmark to remind myself I am capable of anything. I had a goal and I worked hard to achieve it. In Rachel Hollis’ book, Girl, Wash Your Face, she talks about setting examples for yourself. If you say you’re going to do something – like run a half marathon – and then give up, you’re more likely to give up on other goals because that is what you know. By completing this race, I’m training my brain to achieve more and give up less.

Hollis also mentions trauma and how that can sometimes work in your favor. Not in a “find the silver-lining” way but in a build some literal and figurative muscles from fighting the good fight. There was a time in my life when our house that we lived in was literally a construction zone, we had just brought home a colicky newborn baby boy in addition to our three-year-old girl, and on the day of his birth, my mom had received a breast cancer diagnosis. This was easily the most stressful time in my life. But I got through it.  Our house now has a lovely addition we get to enjoy our master bedroom and bathroom and my mom – after a year of treatment – has been cancer free for nearly two years.

Surely if I can get through that, I could 13.1 miles. I’ve wanted to run a half-marathon before, but that often stemmed from a “well if this person can do it, I should be able to do it.” Please see Item One for why this never worked. Instead, I found the inner strength, my inner strength forged in the heat of hard times, to reach my goal.

Oh yeah, and my baby boy is now a hilarious almost three-year-old.

Which leads me to…
66. “I Am Your Father…”I was bringing my daughter to evening VBS when my phone dinged from my husband. Apparently, while playing with him, my son took a bubble wand (his lightsaber) and said to my husband in a serious, I Will Destroy You Voice, “I am your father,” followed more lightly by “how was your weekend?”

I am your father. How was your weekend?
I still giggle when I think about this interaction. My son has officially gone head over heels for anything Star Wars. We had already entered this obsession phase with my daughter and Disney princesses (in other words, Disney takes all our money), so it is a blast to go through it again in a completely new way. He’s becoming his own person and it is so fun to see him grow.

77. The Perfect Summer TableauWe have wild raspberries growing in the woods behind our house. Inevitably, poison ivy also grows with it. Speaking from experience, there are times when those raspberries just aren’t worth it.

But one Sunday afternoon, I was determined to take a true Sabbath. I sat on our back deck and watched my daughter – still in her Sunday dress – scour our backyard for raspberries. Most went straight in her mouth, but some did go in a little basket she carried for a “raspberry pie” she would later make.

I have never seen anything so beautiful. I didn’t reach for my phone to take a picture. I didn’t want this image to be ruined by something so flat as a photograph – or more accurately, a screen. Instead, my mind took a picture that included the feel of the warm sun, the gentle breeze and the three-dimensional landscape my daughter inhabited. I let go of the fear and poison ivy and just enjoyed the scene.  I also took a snapshot in my mind of how I felt: that is was the perfect summer moment.

88.  I Am Not Handling Change GracefullyAs I mentioned, my daughter begins kindergarten this fall and I. Am. A. Wreck. I know I should chose to focus on the positive: that I have a daughter who is happy and healthy enough to go to kindergarten (or that as a female she even gets to go to school), that she has a wonderful school and a loving teacher, and that she has friends and will make new ones easily.

Instead, I spent a whole day wallowing in self-pity because her friends my friends were not in her class. I’m already jealous of the teacher she does have who will spend more time with my child than I will. And I cry at the drop of a hat.

Oh yeah, and school hasn’t even started yet.

On my best days, I know she has the right teacher for her. My daughter will thrive under her attention and encouragement. And on my better days, I know that I’m projecting some of my own insecurities to this whole school thing, conjuring up old feelings (ok and maybe even current feelings) of not belonging…of missing out. FOMO is for real.

And then I get amazingly emotional that a phase in our life is over. Having two kids not in school is over. Our days visiting the library, going to the park and even group naps as the trio we’ve worked so hard to establish are over. And I’m wondering where it went. I feel guilty that I didn’t do all we could when we had the chance. That I wished for the long days to be over when they were ever so fleeting. I feel like the phase of life of always looking forward is already starting to fade as we look back and wonder where the heck it all went. Wasn’t she just a baby? Isn’t she still just a little girl who wants to stay home and play with dolls?

I’m going to need to visit Costco for tissues this fall….


There you have it. My not-so-short list of what I’ve learned. This is my first foray into these seasonal lists but I have loved doing it and am sure I will absolutely love revisiting this list as the seasons and years roll by.


Have a lovely fall. 

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