I can tell I'm getting older because my heart is constantly drawn to the simple things. I'm reminded of this when I visit a local restaurant and witness parents sitting with cellphones in hand at a table full of children who possess their own detached devices. That's just not how it was when I was growing up.
The summer days allow me to stop and climb out of the world of technology and the busy, and reflect on the moments that still make my heart jump inside. As I drove to the home of the woman who ushered my heart into faith in Jesus almost 40 years ago, I reflected on the past 58 years of my life; one that began under the roof of a small house filled with the most wonderful smells from an oven that never rested, and the home I have shared with my husband of 35 years (that doesn't smell quite as good as my mother's kitchen, but it's not for lack of trying!).
All of these thoughts have led me to build a list in my head of the things I love about this season of slow:
*Kettle corn, lemonade, and family at a fair that offers pottery, southern conversation, and tourist walks (you'll have to ask My Man about those).
*Sitting in a quiet house with nothing to entertain but the stories that have been stored-up in a woman of strong faith (why is it that I only take the time to listen to those in the summer months?).
*Walking through a public library with the expectation of holding the next book of wonder in the hands of the one who longs to drink-in the smell of the worn page.
*Listening to a playlist of classical music that has no words attached, allowing my mind to drift into landscapes and faces and treasured memories.
*Driving slow through neighborhoods on a summer night and reminiscing about my own childhood of children running through sprinklers and parents falling asleep in lawn chairs.
*Sitting with family at the Thankful Table as my dad repeats a story we've heard a thousand times, yet wait at the edge of our chairs to hear once again.
*Walking through a produce market with a basket and a daughter--one will hold our dinner, the other holds my constant heart.
*Making a Mexican ice cream run with My Man (because what's the summertime without ice cream?)
*Visiting with bookstore owners who invite me in to a cool room to pet a cat named Barrie, and share our love for the written word.
*Flower pots that need to be watered, a beagle who needs to play ball, a watch that waits to record the morning exercise, and a quiet time with the Lord and the story He wrote long ago so that I would read it over and over again.
I don't like hot weather (which makes me wonder if I would be sitting here recording anything with joy without the blowing of my AC nearby), but I do love a season that brings thoughts that have time to sit and marinate when the busy has kept them from flowing.
Tonight My Man will grill burgers while family and friends sit around our Thankful Table once again and do what I love most to do: listen, learn, and laugh. We'll all bring our own memories to the surface as we delve into the conversation pool with wild abandon. There will be no cellphones ringing (house rule at the Thankful Table), no social media to attend to, no television in the background blaring the nothing necessary, just a lot of food, a few mosquitoes, a beagle waiting to grab the wayward chip, and time to reflect on the thing that matters the most: making a memory that's worth the re-telling.
