summer.

Thank you, God, for this good life...and forgive me for the times when I do not love it enough, I prayed as I sat and looked over the water and up at the gorgeous sky. Yesterday was a beautiful day at Smith Mountain Lake and I got to spend it with a wonderful friend. As I reflected over the past few days, I could not help but stand in awe of the copious blessings. God has blessed me extravagantly, and this is not meant to come across as bragging. I just want to shout with joy about how He loves His children so well and reveals Himself to us in the most breathtaking ways. So I shall shout to the blogosphere. I am just so awestruck by His generosity and overwhelmed with gratitude at the truth that He does fill my life with great things...there are just so many gifts, and everything comes by His hand.

I have been following Emily on her trip to the Philippines, and it encouraged me to read back through my journal from Nicaragua and meditate on my journey, nicknamed “the Beautiful Struggle.” It was hard there, but I have found that the biggest struggle that came along with the trip is living like it actually happened. I journaled, “It’s so weird to think that less than 24 hours ago, I was in Nicaragua. Lex commented on how quickly one can forget Nica. And it’s totally legit- just being in the airport makes me wonder if the whole thing was even real. Maybe it was a dream? Idk. But the challenge is living like it wasn’t a dream. It’s so hard to believe the difference between the two places. It’s like everything in this country makes it hard to believe/remember the reality we find by going to Nicaragua” (July 2, 2010). I remember Trav’s warning that as soon as we stepped into the Miami airport, everything would be screaming at us that what we saw in Nicaragua wasn’t real. And it’s the truth. I came home, went to college, and faced the typical American mentality every single day-the lies that we must compete with our neighbors rather than focus on loving them. The lies that we must do whatever it takes to succeed and make a six-figure salary and own seven BMW’s. The lies that we must be smarter, prettier, skinnier, richer, better, you-name-it-er than everyone else. The lies that say competition is greater than compassion. The lies that time not spent advancing is time wasted. We get so caught up in this mentality that life becomes a super-speedway for us. We take hard classes, push ourselves to do all of our school work, graduate with honors, go to school for five hundred more years for a master's degree, et cetera, get a good job, and forget to really live. The little things tend to slip into the woodwork…they go unnoticed and unappreciated. You know...little things like family dinners, gorgeous sunsets, family country-music sing alongs in the car, movie nights with best friends, family-dance nights (sounds weird, but we love to dance--so we turn up the music and have our own little dance parties), dinners outside in downtown Roanoke, potting flowers, beach trips with great new friends, pool days with great old friends, eating birthday cake with my dad at his office, "working out" at the RAC pool (by working out, I mean swimming a few laps then talking for ten minutes before we swim some more), cookouts with my second-family, perfect weather, summer thunderstorms, starry skies, eating ice cream on the back porch while listening to the creek trickle through my backyard, walking my puppy (except he is not really a puppy), sweet days like yesterday.

I am so thankful for summer, as she knocks on my door and begs me to step out of the fast-paced life and slow down a bit, to take time to breathe and relax and remember that life is not about building barns. Lauren Chandler really wrote out my heart in her description of summer, when she said, "Would the summer be so sweet if the winter weren't so bitter? And, would the bitter winter be so bearable if the summer's promise weren't so sweet? The Lord, in His providence and sustaining grace, is kind to mingle the two. In the cold of winter, we carry the warmth of the Son through Whom the promise is made to be with us "always, to the end of the age." And in the season of colorful communion, we carry the heavy reality that green will give way to gray, proving that we are not home yet. For now, I will live in the season I feel swirling about me. I will drink it in, savor it as a foretaste of heaven: a blazing Son, a forever respite from a worn-out world and constant company, face-to-face with my Savior and the saints around the throne." So I take this opportunity named Summer to savor this "foretaste of heaven," careful to take in every little thing, remember to say thank you, and love it as much as possible, for God, in His graciousness and love, has spoiled me with riches far greater than anything money could ever buy.