Goodbye Summer

Actually, around here, we don't feel like we say "goodbye" to summer until..... oh.... October.-ish, but the return of the so-called fall semester makes it somewhat more tangible. Summer certainly went by fast this year. Other years it always seemed to drag on, but not this time. It was a good 3 or so months in many respects, and in many respects, I hope I never have to deal with the same stuff again. Social relations are so interesting.

All things for our profit and learning. At the same time, the loneliness and solitude of summer gave me the opportunity to turn my attention to small areas of my life that I had always put aside until I had someone to share them with. Things I incorrectly believed in my mind that I could only enjoy while being with perfect friendly company. Hard to explain, but there's something about my new formed habit of lying out in my backyard and gazing at the stars before going to bed that fills a void in me. Or taking time to sit by the lake and watch the sun set. Feeding the ducks. Listening to the crickets chirp on warm summer nights. Blowing bubbles. Eating yogurt. Taking long walks in the sunshine. Just plain enjoying driving myself somewhere with the radio on and a good song to sing. Scripture study has a way of healing, and can be almost pleasing and overwhelming altogether when I stop to think about how much more I have left to learn. Teaching piano to my kids (they're not, technically, but they will always be "my kids") has somehow made me even more grateful and aware of life's blessings. Trying not to define my happiness by whether or not others show they care about me. ... I certainly don't feel like the same person I was a month ago.

People will let you down. People will disappoint you and sometimes hurt you. And it will probably never occur to them what that does to you when you care. It's a tough pill to swallow, but I think it's going through me somehow. Good to learn from all those things. And although nothing will make the hurt feel any better, gladly, I have my family. Small, but loving and unconditional. Gladly, I have my Savior. Real and dependable... and always there to help me start anew. "Constant He is and kind, Love without end." (Hymns #129) What a comfort this is.