How to Stretch Summer Long

Photo credit

At seven am this morning, loud electronic chirping echoed through our house. Narrowing it down to the fire alarm near the kitchen, my husband perched on rickety wooden chair, pushing buttons, searching for a battery plate, and unwired it from the wall. Nothing worked and he eventually had to race off to worship practice, with the issue unsolved.

We ignored it through breakfast and showers, extracted bikes from the garage, and biked away to church, leaving the repetitious chirps behind.

At church, my teen daughter and I cared for three babies and toddlers in a nursery room filled with plastic foods, naked dolls, and race cars. In pink shorts and sleeveless shirt, one curly-haired preschooler fed imaginary applesauce to her baby brother. He instinctively opened his mouth each time the empty plastic spoon approached his lips. Her brother was expectantly obedient each time, and she was delighted with her live baby doll. My daughter and I watched this interaction and laughed, while sipping imaginary soup from yellow plastic cups. 

After church over parmesan ravioli and corn on the cob, we perched on wooden chairs again, pulling wires, hunting fire alarms throughout the house, trying new batteries, and flipping fuses. An hour later, we solved the mystery and dissolved into laughter at a nearby carbon monoxide detector – the culprit hidden away and guilty. 

The afternoon stretched deliciously long, summer shadows stretching lean across crisp yellow grass. Friends came and went, the driveway full of cars parked haphazardly, and new players were dealt in. Spaghetti spread on plates stacked high, and towering young men bowed heads low in prayer. Laughter and hours flew by. 

Later, my niece, son, husband and I grabbed terry cloth towels to sit around the fire pit. Juicy cherries spilled sweetness; marshmallows roasted caramel and melted chocolate squares; and son pulled guitar close, sprawling paper lyrics wide. “Choose the songs,” he said. “They’re alphabetical. Just keep the wood coming, please, Mom, so I can see.” 

I snapped twigs, and the three of us sang. 

"When the music fades
And all is stripped away
And I simply come
Longing just to bring
Something that's of worth
That will bless your heart

I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the ways things appear
You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You
All about You, Jesus
I'm sorry Lord for the thing I've made it
When it's all about You
It's all about You Jesus

King of endless worth
No one could express
How much You deserve
Though I'm weak and poor
All I have is Yours
Every single breath…"

Joining Ann,  Shanda, and Duane, I am counting God’s gifts:

-chances to serve Jesus clothed in toddler pink and in baby angst

-calm laughter through hours of electronic beeping and mysteries

-family, friends, laughter, friendly game-competition

-long summer afternoons

-shared suppers

-evening bonfires, cherries sweet, marshmallows golden

-worship from my family’s throats

Song credit to Matt Redman. 

Hello friends, what are you thankful for today? Or, what was one delicious thing you ate this weekend?