It’s Summer Solstice Again

“It must have been the summer solstice
When I first gave my heart to You
The first day of a brand new season
In a fevered passion for Your simple truth
It was the longest I’d ever felt for anything
And it gave my soul a song to sing . . . .

And with the spring comes the thaw
Melting my heart reviving all
It comes full circle and then
It’s summer solstice again

So can You throw Your arms around me and walk me home
I’ve wandered off way too far for way too long
And standing broken in this wilderness of shame
I have found my only strength is in your name
Oh, Father please can You undo what I’ve done
And get me back to square one

Back to the summer solstice

Take me back

I wanna go back” (Wayne Kirkpatrick, recorded by Susan Ashton).

Yes, it is summer solstice again. It’s officially the longest day of the year in terms of having the most daylight.

This one was hot. As in even standing in the shade, I was still sweating like the pig that knows he’s about to be bacon.

It felt like I was standing in front of an oven, only there was no aroma of anything baking, except maybe me.

Summer always makes me nostalgic for days I can never get back. It makes me miss people I will never see again in this lifetime.

I’m thinking about all those Johnson family reunions we used to have where all the cousins would make the drive down to Christiana, Tennessee and bring buckets of fried chicken (along with a multitude of casseroles and other foods) and tell stories of yesteryear. I miss those.

It’s easy to want to look back when you can’t really see what’s ahead, to long for the past when the future seems uncertain and scary.

That’s where a lot of us are right now. We’re holding on to what we know, what we can feel with our hands and see with our eyes and make sense of with our minds. We cling to the tangible, even if it’s what’s holding us back from becoming what God destined us to become.

Maybe faith is letting go of  those things and reaching out into the unknown with only the assurance that God will be there.

I love what G. K. Chesterton said: “Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.”

So here’s to hope, which is possibly the best thing going right now.

Hope is a good thing.

 

 

 

 

Things I Love 27: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

island hammock

Even on a Monday there’s plenty to be thankful for. In fact, having a mindset of thankfulness can make even the worst of Mondays bearable and even good. And even the worst of Mondays are only 24 hours. Unless you’re Bill Murray on Groundhog Day. Then good luck. On to #761.

761) Hiking the Ganier Ridge trail at Radner Lake in the rain.

762) Knowing that even the worst of days last only 24 hours.

763) Seeing a baby deer with its mother.

764) The thought of having a bowl of cereal as a reward for finishing this blog.

765) Yard sales and garage sales.

766) Looking forward to another Kairos tomorrow night.

767) Being 100% condemnation-free in Christ.

768) Rescued pets.

769) Finally releasing my cares into the more than capable hands of Jesus.

770) Corn on the cob.

771) Being reminded of my dependence on Jesus and how it’s not up to me.

772) All those Back to the Future movies (even that confusing Part II).

773) Knowing that Jesus won’t ever give up on me.

774) That knowing is half the battle– thanks to the 80’s G. I. Joe cartoons for that reminder.

775) That all I have to to is stand and watch and God will fight my battles for me.

776) A good game of gin rummy (even though I never ever win).

777) The possibility, however remote, of going on a date with Kari Jobe.

778) Watching Halloween and Halloween II back-to-back on Halloween night.

779) Remembering all those late nights at Perkin’s when I was a student at Union.

780) That tree-lined road between Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg.

781) Those moments of clarity in the middle of the hazy days.

782) That God didn’t give me most of the things I prayed for.

783) The Pauline Baynes illustrations in The Chronicles of Narnia.

784) The fruit tea at Calypso Cafe.

785) Fried chicken at family reunions.

786) Bette Davis in Now, Voyager.

787) Picnics at Arrington Vineyards on Sunday afternoons.

788) How my cat looks so peaceful and serene when she’s sleeping.

789) Victor Hugo’s beautiful story of redemption and hope in Les Miserables.

790) Wading in a creek on an especially hot and humid day.

791) How much better I feel right now than when I started this blog.

792) Serving breakfast at an ungodly hour at the Nashville Rescue Mission.

793) Pure 100% Vermont maple syrup.

794) The beautiful and sad movie, Bright Star.

795) Not ever giving up on people because God never gave up on me.

796) Vh1’s Behind The Music– especially about the bands I loved growing up.

797) Whitney Houston’s 1991 version of The Star-Spangled Banner.

798) High fives and fist bumps.

799) Oscillating fans.

800) Whoever came up with the brilliant idea of those combination squirt guns and portable fans.