If I had to write a three-point sermon about why August is wonderful, it would go like this: sunflowers, swimming, sweet corn. In August, especially the beginning, summer feels like it will last forever; we all get complacent and think that fall will never come... ... but then, I spot the first aster blooms and a sprinkling of yellow leaves on the cottonwood tree, and responsibilities that were tiny on the horizon suddenly loom larger and then are here. The garden becomes a neglected jungle as we adjust to new priorities, and our dog gives us sad eyes as we pack up each morning for a day away from home. Time is regimented into strict daily and weekly rhythms instead of the day-by-day flow we had enjoyed. The transition is not easy. We are tired. In the spring, our life seems to explode outwards as the weather warms. We spend more time outside and pick up projects that we had left behind or dreamed of all winter. During the summer, we roam and explore and work and play in an even w...
So often, the most pertinent questions come in a child's voice. This morning, on the way to school, I heard from the back seat, "Mom, when will it not be January anymore?" When, indeed. This has been the Januariest of Januaries for me. I feel that I've stumbled into the new year and then, instead of recovering, fell flat on my face. The month is (finally?) almost gone and the Christmas tree is still the centerpiece of the living room. I've been sick since the holiday, coughing and sniffling and doing the bare minimum to keep functioning. What day is it? I have a vague idea. What's happening tomorrow? Uh, let me think... I have a nagging feeling of being just a bit behind on everything, that there are things I'm forgetting, and of barely staying afloat. I have said more than a few times - when will I catch up? How can I get on top of things? I just need to find my stride! What I am really desiring can probably be narrowed down to two things, in the end: pr...
While reading this week, I came across an ancient Latin phrase that called to me: otium sanctum. Translated as "holy leisure," this phrase seeks to encapsulate a balanced life centered in peace, in which all daily work is done with an openness to and acknowledgement of the presence of God. Sounds nice, doesn't it? My kids have taken to writing a daily newspaper, wherein each family member gets their own column, updating on the goings-on and status of our household. My most recent update opened with, "We think mom is stressed," followed by what I sincerely hope was an ill-judged, hyperbolic attempt at humor, "LIVES AT RISK!" Yet, I admit that they were probably on to something. I write this from my office, which currently looks like chaos in physical form, with piles of scribbled lists peeking out from under papers to be graded, various textbooks open to pages that were important at one time for some reason, and numerous half-empty drink containers. Th...