I made the mistake of glancing at my summer calendar and noticed there was no time to hyperventilate. It looked like the next nine weeks were written in stone – on paper. I couldn’t get out of anything.
I thought summer was supposed to be lazy-hazy. It made me homesick for the simple life. What an archaic and charming word – simple.
And so, I thought for a moment of when we were slower – and I saw a far-off picture of my kids sitting in the shade of a tree reading a book, running in a field with their dog, and catching frogs down by the stream. I had to squint to see an even further-in-time picture of my hard-working dad in the hammock taking a nap under the dogwood tree. Imagine.
People found time to take time.
Life is loud. We reside on a breakneck-speeding planet that keeps changing on us. The mystery is in knowing how to stay still while it spins, and how to remain while it changes. Otherwise, we may suffer vertigo and become confused and disoriented.
We need stillness, the power of pause . . . the time to dwell in the unchanging Word of God. Somehow, it makes sense of it all.
I looked up the Webster-word linger and find it means to stay in a place or be slow in leaving it. It must mean to deliberately tarry long enough to discover the sacred in the ordinary. . . . it must.
We have no control over our lives being touched by a changing world, but we have a choice to slow down and change our lives.
Take a deep summer breath and visit the quiet sanctuary of your heart where the Presence of God resides. Think of it this way, if we take ten minutes out of each day for the next seven weeks to linger and listen – we can experience change in our life in just 630 minutes!
Pencil the art of lingering into your summer calendar (in ink).
You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast because he trusts in you. Isaiah 26:3