It’s almost summertime. And actually, for all intents and purposes, it already is. I stopped at a lemonade stand today. My three rules of thumb when it comes to lemonade stands are: 1) Always stop. 2) Always pay double the asking price. 3) Never drink it.
But summer–it’s my favorite season of they year. And yet, I approach this one with a mixture of one part trepidation, two parts anticipation.
No. That’s a lie. It’s actually, quite equally, one part trepidation, one part anticipation.
I felt a whispering today, deep in my bones, that I need to make this one count. That I need to be mindful. That I need to be prayerful and careful to see and smell and taste and touch every molecule of every day. That I must savor it. So that I will always remember it.
It’s a busy one, this summer is. A very busy one. There is much to sort through and figure out and become okay with. There is much to learn and much to put into words. There are adventures to be had, memories to be made, hands to hold.
I just want it to go slow.
Please, can it go slow?
I really need it to go slow.