I once gave an announcement regarding an upcoming fall church retreat by saying “I’d like to speak to you about the fall. Turn in your Daytimers to…”
It got a big laugh.
And, don’t give me grief over the Daytimers comment. It was in the 90s.
I can’t deny it any longer.
Summer is gone.
I didn’t see the ocean. Didn’t park my ample behind in the sand. Didn’t make it to an amusement park. Didn’t even make it to an outdoor pool.
Oh, how we suffer.
Seriously folks, I’m joking. Mostly.
First world problems.
So, my summer wasn’t exactly how I would have planned it. I still got to do some cool things like attending my 35th college reunion and spending some time in Atlanta with my son the filmmaker.
True, I didn’t get the traditional head clearing experience of being on the beach to watch the sunrise every morning. So maybe for the next 10-11 months my head will be a little foggier. I realize that’s a little frightening.
But, you know what?
The sun still came up every day even if I didn’t see it breaking over the Atlantic.
Sometimes life stinks. Sometimes it doesn’t give us what we want.
Especially here in America, we’re still pretty blessed.
I can’t read the headlines and not realize that. I need to be reminded every day to be thankful for what I have and for what I’ve been blessed with.
That doesn’t mean I won’t complain. That doesn’t mean I won’t want things to be different.
It helps with perspective.
It’s Autumn. Already last week temperatures were dropping. They may have spiked again by the time this publishes. Or, being Virginia they may spike again in November or December.
I have a stack of sweaters in the closet that I’m looking forward to wearing again. I’m thankful for that. I’m also thankful that this summer I took a bag of too large sweaters to Goodwill.
I’d like to think that next year I can do the same. I would be blessed on many levels to do so.
Some people don’t have one sweater. I have several.
I am reminded in my whinage over summer’s end that I’m very blessed, and that there are those that aren’t. I need to be aware of that.
In fighting for the abolition of the slave trade in Great Britain, William Wilberforce once said,
“You may choose to look the other way but you can never say again that you did not know.”
I don’t want to look away.