Summer: a Summary

This morning, I was driving Beth to work and we were talking about how quickly the temperature has chilled and the season has changed. We talked about how at the start of this year, fresh from the Faithwalkers conference, our mantra was "making it great in 2008". 2008 has been many things so far, but neither of us was sure "great" is one of them.

For the past few months, on Tuesday nights, Charlotte, Beth and I have been meeting with our friends Stacy and Liz to work through the book Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow. Beth has been encouraging me to read this book for years, for good reason. The subtitle is "A Woman's Guide to Finding Contentment" and I don't know if I've ever read a book that has been so encouraging and so convicting at the same time. It has really changed the way that I look at myself, my circumstances, and my God. The quote from the book that has stuck with me the most is actually a quote from the French philosopher Montaigne, who said, "My life has been full of terrible misfortunes, most of which never happened."

This can definitely be said of my summer, in a way. Memorial Day weekend, my "summer depression" was starting to sink in. I don't know if it's because I moved here in the summer or what, but I don't typically get winter depression- my seasonal battle with the blues comes in the hot and humid summer months. At the start of this summer I spent a Sunday afternoon with Tabitha. As we walked around her neighborhood, I listed off all of the things about the coming summer that made me anxious and uneasy. As it turned out, very few things on that list actually happened.

Instead, the summer was filled with challenges I couldn't anticipate. It was a hard summer in a lot of ways, but I also think it produced a lot of growth in my life and faith that I can't really explain. Last Wednesday, I was again at Tabitha's and as we ate some raspberry sherbert, she commented that she can actually see that there's something different in me, that she can tell I'm doing a better job of just simply being the person God made me to be and not worrying so much about the rest. That was encouraging to hear- God is still in the business of changing lives, even if the changes appear to be small.

I went home a couple of weekends ago for a variety of reasons, one of which was to attend a cookout at Tom and Meg Johnsons' in South Amana. There's a lot going on with their new theater group, the Iowa Theatre Artists Company, and they've invited me to be a part of it as their grantwriter (don't worry- I'm not quitting the NAC or moving back home or anything). So this cookout was a way to get their artists, board members and friends together to share their vision. Some of these artists are bluegrass musicians (and some of the nicest, most genuine people you will ever meet), and the evening ended with them playing a concert in the backyard. There was something so charming, so small town Iowa, about sitting under the porch lights and hearing them all strum away on their guitars and banjos, us all singing along when we knew the words. It was chilly, and I had to go to my car and get my sweater. I just felt in my bones that a new season is beginning in my life, and not just in the literal "autumn" sense.

And so last weekend we officially said goodbye to summer. Our life group had a picnic at Zorinsky on Sunday. Wendy and Clint were in town for a wedding and joined us for the afternoon. When I drove them back to the hotel, Wendy said something about how it was good to see me "in my element". That's pretty amazing because I never thought Omaha would become my element, but I know that it has.

I'm really looking forward to seeing what's in store for our group this fall.