You know it’s officially summer in the South, not by the date on the calendar but by the amount of humidity in the air and the level of volume of hair for anyone with curly locks.

Yes, folks, the season of sweat-pocalyse has begun in earnest.

I’m not the biggest fan of hot weather, but I’ll take 95 degrees with low to no humidity over a muggy 85 any day. It’s that humidity that makes me sweat more profusely. I’m pretty sure everyone who’s within smellin’ distance of me is thankful for low humidity.

For me, all it takes is walking outside in the day time. I don’t even have to exert. I just have to be outside for more than five minutes and the sweat starts dripping.

Did I mention how much I really, really love fall?

It was nothing monumental. It was nothing radically life-altering. It was just me riding in the Red Sled with the windows down in the unseasonably coolish weather with Billie Holiday singing me home.

I do love me some air conditioning. Don’t get me wrong. But 1) the A/C in my car is quite possibly on the fritz, and 2) there’s something about the way the night breezes play with my hair that does something to my soul.

I’m working my way through Lady Day: The Complete Columbia recordings of Ms. Holliday. I guess I’ve been a fan of hers since high school. I don’t know much about her other than her life was a bit tragic and her voice was magic.

I’m all about celebrating the small moments. I’m into giving thanks for all the so-called little gifts, because when I acknowledge the small, I show that I am ready for bigger and better.

Thank You, God, for this life, and forgive me if I don’t love it (or You) enough.

It was two years ago today that my beloved Lucy crossed that rainbow bridge, taking a little piece of my heart with her. I count that as one of the saddest days of my life.

I realize that it’s probably a little silly to get so worked up over a cat. People I know have suffered much more devastating losses. But she was my constant and faithful companion. She was always a quiet and comforting presence.

Looking back, I’m thankful that God blessed me with such a loving and loyal friend. She could at times be ornery and she was not a fan of belly rubs, but she was the ultimate lap cat and slept on the pillow beside mine just about every night.

I do wish the rainbow bridge had visiting hours. I’d go and thank my Lucy for all her love. I’d tell her that I have a new cat named Peanut who is the recipient of all the love I had for Lucy, not a replacement but a rescue. I think Lucy would appreciate her gotcha story.

Time by itself doesn’t heal anything. Finding a new outlet for the love to flow helps. Also gratitude goes a long way. Above all whatever hurts or sorrows I’ve entrusted into God’s care have been slowly but surely transformed into joy and healing.

I know for sure that if I had the chance, I’d do it all again with Lucy. All 17 years. Even the hard parts. Even that hardest last part. I treasure all my memories that I carry with me in my heart for as long as I live.

“I believe my steps are growing wearier each day
Still I’ve got a journey on my mind
Lures of this old world have ceased to make me want to stay
and my one regret is leaving you behind

If it proves to be his will that I’m the first to go
And some how I’ve a feeling it will be
When it comes time to travel likewise don’t feel lost
For I will be the first one that you’ll see

And I’ll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan
I’ll be waiting drawing pictures in the sand
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout!
And come running through the shallow waters reaching for your hand

Through this life we’ve laboured hard to earn our meager fare
It’s brought us trembling hands and failing eyes
I’ll just rest here on this shore and turn my eyes away
And then you’ll come then we’ll see paradise”

Lately, I’ve been reading books again. Actual books with actual pages that you can physically turn.

The latest is a biography and loving and honest tribute by John Carter Cash to his late mother June Carter Cash. The book details how both Johnny and June struggled with drug addictions yet both maintained a stedfast faith that carried them through even the lowest times and darkest moments.

That’s one thing I’m starting to understand when it comes to addiction. You can love Jesus and be an addict. Sometimes God will take the craving and dependency away, but sometimes for whatever reason He leaves His child in the midst of the storm of addiction if only to grow a deeper dependency on Him.

In the end, what matters is that Johnny and June loved each other deeply. They also both had deep faith in Jesus. Yes, they had their demons, but I truly believe that God in Jesus kept His word that nothing could ever separate them from His love– not any power of hell, not any grave, and certainly not any addiction.

I normally don’t straight up copy and share a complete devotional that I’ve been reading, but the entry for June 16 was too good not to share:

“Patiently wait for God alone, my soul! For he is the one who gives me confidence. — Ps 62:5

“Our too general neglect of looking for answers to what we ask, shows how little we are in earnest in our petitions. A husbandman is not content without the harvest; a marksman will observe whether the ball hits the target; a physician watches the effect of the medicine which he gives; and shall the Christian be careless about the effect of his labor?

Every prayer of the Christian, made in faith, according to the will of God, for which God has promised, offered up in the name of Jesus Christ, and under the influence of the Spirit, whether for temporal or for spiritual blessings, is, or will be, fully answered.

God always answers the general design and intention of His people’s prayers, in doing that which, all things considered, is most for His own glory and their spiritual and eternal welfare. As we never find that Jesus Christ rejected a single supplicant who came to Him for mercy, so we believe that no prayer made in His name will be in vain.

The answer to prayer may be approaching, though we discern not its coming. The seed that lies under ground in winter is taking root in order to a spring and harvest, though it appears not above ground, but seems dead and lost”
—Bickersteth

Sometimes, we all need a mental reboot. I know I do. It’s sorta like when your computer starts acting weird and you do the thing where you turn it off and back on again. At least that’s the technical name for it. Usually that fixes whatever’s wrong. If not, then you call the IT guy.

I think sometimes my thinking gets off. I start craving stuff. I start comparing my life with the people around me and getting envious of what they have that I don’t. Sometimes I get a bit of moral superiority when I feel like I’m doing better than someone else.

That’s when I need a reboot. I need to remember that truly the best things in life can’t be bought or sold. In fact, the best things aren’t usually even things.

They’re memories. They’re time spent with loved ones. They’re acts of kindness and compassion. The best gift of all in my life has been the free gift of salvation in Jesus and the daily grace He offers me.

Contentment comes when you quit comparing and start celebrating your life as the gift it is. When you swich from grumbling to gratitude. Saying thank you for all the tiny blessings.

I want that. God, help me remember what really matters and to not take any good gift for granted.

It was not my plan to get wet at Radnor Lake State Park. If you remember the old Grizzly River Rampage ride at Opryland USA, the slogan was “You WILL get wet.” Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Until it did.

My plan was to hike. Plain and simple. I wanted to walk my usual trifecta of trails– Ganier Ride, South Cove, and Lake Trail. Sure, it was a bit muggy, but this is just shy of summer in Tennessee. Humidity happens.

But then I heard thunder. It sounded far enough away that I thought I’d be okay. Then I felt the first drops of rain. Still not enough to deter me from my plan.

Honestly, for most of the hike, it was very calming to hear the rain in the trees. For the most part, I stayed dry underneath the canopy of leaves and branches.

Then I got wet. At some point, the rain broke through the trees and hit me.

But I’d do it again tomorrow. Some part of me needs to be in nature– breathe it in, feel it on my skin, let it overwhelm my senses. I get enough asphalt and pavement. I need some earth underneath my feet. Even with the rain.

And I barely melted at all.

I read a great book recently. I’m not saying that because my pastor wrote the book. I’m saying it because it’s about the most honest book I’ve ever read on dealing with a loved one with dementia. Honestly, it’s a book I wish I could have read a long time ago before witnessing both my grandmothers going through their own battles with memory loss diseases.

My takeaways are 1) that sometimes there are no right or wrong choices in dealing with this disease– there’s only you doing the best you can with the resources and the knowledge you’ve been given. 2) Sometimes caring for a loved one with dementia is a thankless job dealing with someone who will not only be uncooperative but often be combative and hostile. Remember that true love is always unconditional. Also remember that when you were little, your parents made choices for you that you didn’t always like but were for your good.

It seems to me that with diseases like Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia, it’s not the patient who really suffers as much as it is their loved ones who have to witness them dying a little bit every day, losing their memories and a part of their identity.

Here’s the link to buy the book if you’re interested:

Most of all, spend time with those you love, even if they’re no longer able to appreciate it or to respond. There’s always the small chance you’ll see glimpses of who they used to be. But most of all, you only get so many moments to share before they’re gone and you can’t get them back.

After all, any act done in true love is never wasted or in vain.

I have a lot of thoughts in my head currently, most of which don’t really mesh together well, but I’m needing to get at least some of them out of my head and in some form of writing.

I’m thinking about my mother’s cat Paddy today. It was 4 years ago that she took her last ride to the vet. It was an emotionally wrecking day for me (and I’m sure for my mother as well).

I still miss that grumpy old cat. She might have been an ornery cuss at times, but she could be endearing and sweet at other times. She had her own loving way and was unswervingly loyal to my mom.

Two years later, I found out my own beloved cat Lucy was terminally ill. It devastated me. For the next six days, I cried, prayed, hoped for a miracle, and tried as best as I could to prepare for the worst.

But today was filled with happy memories. We had our traditional yearly family celebration of my sister’s upcoming birthday. It was festive and filled with truck rides, eating too much, badminton, and hammocks. And birthday cake.

That’s a sort of microcosm of life. There’s a great amount of sadness and heartache, but there’s also joy and beauty. Sometimes, you can’t have one without the other. Sometimes, suffering helps you appreciate the joy more.

But all in all, life’s still a gift. It’s a blessing that I take for granted most days, but on those days when I remember, I give thanks for the privilege of waking up and breathing in God’s air. As long as you or I are still breathing, we still have a purpose and a reason to live.

Cherish your life and the people in it.

“Lay down my dear brothers
Lay down and take your rest
Won’t you lay your head upon your Savior’s breast
I love you all but Jesus loves you the best
And I bid you goodnight, goodnight, goodnight” (Grateful Dead).

I can’t believe I actually stayed up past midnight.

Back in the day, I was quite the night owl, but having a 5 am wakeup call during the week curtailed my nightly antics a bit.

So here it is– 12:32 am– and I’m finally calling it a night. I’m beyond ready for some sleep.

Is that what happens when you get old? Asking for a friend.