It has been different this year. Not a bad different; just different.
Never before glancing at the clock, a few minutes to go, the numbers relentlessly changing, moving ever forward. A tide unstoppable, finally lining up; midnight. Turning sixty. Never before so reflective at the passing of an hour.
In awe even. Of this passage of time. Seasons changing.
Earlier on the patio the very fullness of summer. Air thick with cicadas, flowers bursting from pots, barefoot and carefree with air warm and starry sky filling.
But, ever so subtle. Crickets too and geese overhead and a few leaves changing color. The fire pit welcoming. Evening soon turning to chill.
Summer dancing with fall.
A beautiful thing really. The merging of seasons, this overlap of beauty surrounding. This dance. And so the passage of time.
Also of beauty. This life we have to live well.
Wrinkles reminding, birthdays celebrating.
But even more than that. This time. Even more. Another season colliding head on.
An injury sidelining. A sister encouraging. My own heart yearning.
A time to slow. A season. To do things differently.
From busyness and distractions and the constant doing.
And what I found.
Summer. Beautiful Summer.
Warm and gentle and unhurried.
Turning it's head right there in the slow; my quiet pursuit. With God.
And in choosing slow. Over time.
Giving up the frantic, the wild hanging-on, the paddling upstream.
Instead, life in the moment; holy ground.
And now. Summer's end.
Candles glowing. Evenings lingering. To savor.
Because other seasons fall hard.
Losing jobs, losing friends, losing health, losing hope. This brokenness.
Sometimes deep and razor sharp. Finding sorrow part of our lives.
But what I've learned in the summer, turning fall; shocking grace.
God redeeming. A faithful Father. Relationship. Every day.
Filling my heart. Forgiving me. Amazing me. Asking for a dance.
That's the thing to be in awe of.
Not the turning of a clock or the passing of a year.
Not that. But God filling.
Summer dancing with fall; reminding.