Happy Monday, Friends!
This week, my children checked off their final reading assignments, completed their standardized tests, and we all went into town for ice cream at our local ice cream shop: all of the official signs that the school year is done and the summer has come. (Our college student, who came home three weeks ago already, is glad that they finally caught up to her. She’s been ready for that ice cream for a while!) Huzzah! There was Great Rejoicing by All!
By all, perhaps, except for me. This week, the deer got into our yard and ate much of my lovely little garden, leaving only the radishes. And the watermelon I bought - another quintessential sign of the arrival of summer - went bad before we could eat it, oozing foul-smelling liquid all over the counter and down into the crack between the edge of the counter and the refrigerator. We cleaned it up…but I still can’t help feeling as if something smells off every time I go into the kitchen. (Hopefully that is just my overactive imagination!) And then yet another tree limb came down in our yard, forcing the reality of the fact we need to invest in its removal sooner rather than later. Combine this with being the Parent Who Keeps The Family Calendar trying to balance the plans and schedules of three teens/young adults whose plans and schedules keep changing with the reality of the fact that my own work and commitments vary wildly from week to week….and here on the cusp of summer, I find myself feeling not at all carefree or joyful, but rather weary and defeated.
While my children may be gladly welcoming the summer, I find that I am not.
My friend Kate wrote a piece on transitions and change last week that I found rather helpful in teasing out some of the weariness that I am feeling. Quoting William Bridges, she writes that “it isn’t the change that does you in. It’s the transition.” (‘Change’ may be defined as the external situation and ‘transition’ being the internal processes that accompany change.) I’ve walked through any number of transitions - in my lifetime at a whole, and in the past couple of years in particular. I’m no stranger to transitions and managing them in healthy ways. Nevertheless - this very normal, anticipated change from the rhythms and routines of the school year to the different pace of the summer - caught me off guard. Here we go yet again…whether I want to or not.
Kate’s post as a whole is a good read (It’s given me lots of food for thought), but I was particularly challenged by her advice to make the most of the ‘neutral zone’ - that liminal space and disruption that comes along with a transition - because it is in those spaces that new things can grow.
Interestingly enough, I had already decided to participate in the No-Social-Media summer challenge that Lore Wilbert over at Sayable is hosting - even before I recognized just how uncomfortable I was with this seasonal transition.1 The whole point of the experiment is to take an extended time away from the siren call of social media to create the space for new things to grow: beautiful things, creative things. Now more than ever, I am feeling like this was a wise call for this season. I don’t have a terrible relationship with social media, but I do have a tendency to fill the empty spaces in my day with mindless, passive scrolling. I am feeling both excited and nervous about stepping into this challenge. It will be a necessary pruning, I think.
The question, then, is what shall I do with this space created by setting aside my scrolling habit? I’m trying to resist the urge to plan that with too much detail. I know I want to read more and write more and be more present in my in-person life. I have my fingers in several church-related projects, including launching a new small group. And quite honestly, I find that in this season of life with teen and young adult children who all have different goals and plans and interests requires that I hold a lot of my own plans pretty loosely.
More than checking off a certain number of items off my to-do list, what I really hope to do is cultivate a practice of taking joy in the good things of life - what Richard Foster calls the discipline of celebration. Foster writes that “God has established a created order full of excellent and good things…If we fill our lives with simple, good things and constantly thank God for them, we will be joyful…”2 This is not a Pollyanna type of joy that dismisses the difficulties of life, but it is rather the recognition that God can transform them: “God’s normal means of bringing his joy is by redeeming and sanctifying the ordinary junctures of human life.”3 And this practice of celebration is a discipline because it is an act of the will: actively choosing to take joy and delight in the good things of life.
Consider this my Summer Manifesto: To Take Joy in the Good Things of Life….
by laughing more and not taking myself so seriously
by taking more impromptu adventures
by visiting my local farmer’s market and finding creative ways to cook with what I find there (because I can still do that, even when the deer eat my garden…)
by investing well in my face-to-face relationships
by saying “yes” to ice cream
None of this comes naturally to me. I love structure and routine and having a little too much to do - and yes, am aware that sometimes I take myself too seriously (although trust me - I have loosened up a lot over the years!). But my weary soul is in need of refreshment, and I’m pretty sure that scrolling social media isn’t the answer to that. Scrolling social media isn’t the way to nurture new growth.
Here’s to hoping that embracing the disruption of summer - and taking joy in it! - is just the ticket.
Until Next Time,
O Heavenly Father, you have filled the world with beauty: Open our eyes to behold your gracious hand in all your works; that, rejoicing in your whole creation, we may learn to serve you with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.4
Jen
Bits and Pieces
Reading/Watching/Listening:
The Major and the Missionary, edited by Diana Pavlec Glyer was one of my Goldberry finds last week (see below). It is a delightful record of the correspondence between Warren Lewis (CS Lewis’ brother) and Blanche Biggs, an Australian missionary doctor in Papua New Guinea, spanning the years from 1968-1973. Letter writing has become a lost art in this digital age! Of particular interest to me are Dr Biggs’ letters from PNG, since our family also served as missionaries in PNG for about 10 years (although much later than 1973!) The hospital where she served was in Oro Province, but she mentioned spending the night one time at Ukarumpa in the Eastern Highlands on her way to a conference - which was where we lived! Fun little small world connection.
Taking Delight:



Last weekend, we took an impromptu adventure to visit Goldberry Books in Concord, NC. Absolutely worth checking out if you are ever in the area! We spent a delightful books-and-coffee afternoon there. (This is the kind of impromptu adventure that I particularly love to take!)
Thinking About:
“Pentecost as a feast of the day by day is a time when we rediscover the joy of waiting on the promises of God by the power of the Holy Spirit…we celebrate not only the fulfillment of a promise but also the preparation that moves us toward the promise.”
~ Emilio Alvarez, Pentecost: A Day of Power for All People5
Don’t worry - my social media break does not extend to Substack. I still plan to continue these weekly notes! And hopefully, focusing my attention on more life-giving things during these summer months will overflow into what I write here.
Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline. 195
Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline. 193
Collect 21 “For Joy in God’s Creation,” 2019 Book of Common Prayer. 652
Emilio Alvarez, Pentecost: A Day of Power for All People. 20