Screen-Free Summer

I have spent this summer writing in my journal, with an actual pen and paper, rather than in my notes app between to-do lists and toddler quotes (see also: Allergist Appointment 9:30am/“Where does God put the sun when it’s night time?”). As a result, a surprising thing has happened - I’ve found myself wanting to hold these thoughts close for a little longer. It was our last summer before my oldest went off to school full time and we certainly made the most of it, but I can’t help feeling like I wish I could hold her close a little longer, too. If only she’d sit still long enough to let me! In no particular order, here are a few glimpses into our summer- it was one filled with travel, laughter, joy, growth, hardship, and memories.

the taste of a juicy ripe strawberry-

freshly picked in the heat of the day.

the feel of the salty waves-

tickling my toes, breeze in my hair.

the memory of my children laughing

as they dance in the meadow

sparklers aflame

spelling out the words

“i love you” with

wands of light.

light-

how we would spend the evenings

catching fireflies.

You’d smear that slimy green goo

down my arms like war paint.

i hated it

but still i laughed.

i’m adding up the sum of all these things

that make us so utterly and beautifully human.

the data that AI could never compute.

[1] Confession: I’m not one to cry in public, but this week I shed a few tears in the middle of the produce department of Giant. A little buzz and I scan the text. The words emergency surgery and brain damage alongside a friend’s name tell me enough.

By the time I reach the bread aisle, I smile a little because I remember that if she were to see me now she’d ask me what all the fuss is about, she’s ready to be with her Savior now.

[2] I’m living in this strange in-between, a reality where at the very same moment that my daughter is catching fireflies in the yard with delight, a dear old friend lay unconscious in a hospital bed. Suddenly life feels so very, very fragile. I don’t want to be reminded how this could all be taken away from me in an instant, I just want to soak all the goodness in, before I miss it. How do I carry the joy and the sorrow for the ones I love all at once? I feel as if my heart may burst from the weight of it.

[3] The other day I asked my two year old daughter to go bring me her shoes. Instead, she brought me two baby dolls. I thought it was cute and silly at the time and so I snapped a sweet little picture of her innocent face.

I wonder if sometimes that is how life is— we ask— even plead with God for one thing and He brings us something totally opposite and nonsensical.

[4] Why would God give the fireflies lights to shine - only for them to be smushed? I don’t know, but I have to trust it will all one day make sense. I know that we know so very little of the mysteries of this grand universe. Maybe there’s room for both joy and pain, maybe we can face the unexpected— even unwanted— with brave faces and open arms.

4th of July, 2025

How do I celebrate a country that I love- but continually seems to disappoint?

I’m not in the mood for fireworks and fanfare this year. Call me unpatriotic- I won’t celebrate when there is active marginalization of entire people groups. I can’t sit by and watch passing of more legislature that makes life even harder for those who are vulnerable.

Here’s the America I will celebrate: There’s still beauty in places like Penn’s Woods- these small corners untouched by man’s greed and depravity. The birds sing from the top of the trees on the mountain. Lush forrest greens give way to the gentle hum of the brook, and some quiet corners can still be found where fellow men still know how to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.

Instructions for going on a Vacation:

FIRST, choose your destination. It could be an oceanside, or a mountaintop. Anywhere you can disconnect from the noise, unplug. The harder it is to get there, the better. The journey will have been worth it.

THEN, when you finally arrive, give yourself an entire day or two to unwind. Do nothing. Absolutely nothing. These first days, your only agenda is to let the stress go. Take a deep breath. Feel the tension in your muscles ease one at a time.

AFTER a few days, you’ll start to notice your senses awaken. As if you had been sleep-walking through life, you’ll suddenly come alive. Your job now is to notice it all - take in the wonder and beauty that surrounds you. Breath in the clean mountain air. Listen to the sound of the waves. Dip your toes in the ice cold water. Let it all wash over you and through you, touching you to the very core.

NEXT, your newly awakened senses will cause you to be overcome with deep gratitude- for this place, these people, this life. For the people who came before you and cared for this land. Allow yourself to feel it all. Make a mental list of all you are thankful for and store it in your heart.

FINALLY, it will be time to go back home, and it will feel bittersweet. You’ll wish you could stay here in paradise forever, but also feel glad to sleep back in your own bed. You’ll resolve to take the memories of this place with you, and be changed because of it.

MAD is like a thunderstorm, because I imagine that’s nature’s way of being upset. It’s loud, surprising, and sometimes scary - but it doesn’t last forever. Like a tree standing tall in the middle of the pouring rain, I can weather this storm.

BUT LOVE is different. Like a warm hug, I know I am safe in this embrace. Always.

JOY is like sunshine, because who can be upset when the sun is shining bright? I drink it all in and I become the light, shining bright and light as air I float up, up, up.

PEACE is floating along a gentle river. Content on this journey, though I don’t quite know where I am going. I lay back and embrace the beauty of the ride.