So, in the meditations of my heart, my thoughts, my words, I give thanks.
Fall has arrived, ever so quietly, gently. The scalding heat of this relentless summer has waned, relief. I wore long pants and shoes with socks for the first time since early May. Autumn has come into the night. In the morning I wake to a crisp, startling, chill in the air. I sigh deeply, and give thanks.
Summer. I yearned for it. Longed for long warm days, iced tea and reading on the deck, and rest. But what I got was anything but. Instead of warm, it was outrageously hot. And so, sitting on the deck was not an option if I had any intention of breathing and being remotely comfortable. The garden vegetables ripened too quickly. Swollen, unripe yellow cucumbers fell from the vine. Pale tomatoes cracked on one end and rotted on the other. The deer ate the beans, vines and all. And most of my brussel sprouts got some kind of a gray moldy thing. On the other hand, we enough tomatoes to suffice for sandwiches and salad. We had enough cucumbers to eat a few a week. We had broccoli and cauliflower from our garden several times a week. The garden was a source of delight, and for that I give thanks. Swollen fruit and all.
Fall is here. I did not get the kind of rest I yearned for this summer. But nonetheless I rested, some.
Today was our “Dress Up Sunday” – all summer long, in the blasted heat-unair-conditioned-church we came in casual cool clothes. Today we returned to formal vestments and robes. Thankfully it was cool enough to do so.
This day was particularly joyful because we baptized a new young one this morning. There was something really perfect about a baptism on our first Sunday of the program year. And, for that I give thanks.
This morning the kids offered a skit, profoundly under-rehearsed by some and well prepared by others – all kids were included, even those who came today for the first time – and so that is what happens. Young kids and older kids and some high schoolers. We launched our primary fall ministry – along with three other churches in Dearborn, we will supply 175 children with backpacks full of food to tide them over during the weekends. Kids who are usually fed at school will now have some food to get through the weekend so that come back to school on Monday, fed, rested, ready to begin another week.
The day was holy chaos. It was great fun. And for that I give thanks.
Still. Under all of this, for which I give thanks, is an under current of anxiety. Agitation hums just below the surface of my being like a low hum from the electrical wires. Like the heat waves wafting up from the sidewalk on a hot summer day. Like a mirage on the highway. I exercise. I meditate. I pray. I work. I’m grateful. I’m sure these help.
All is good, even though this undercurrent of agitation feels as if I am waiting for the other shoe to drop without even knowing if there is another shoe.