The Summer Of Letting Some Things go..

Summer started as it usually does around here now, at somewhat breakneck speeds.  It comes swiftly as a camp bus cruising around the corner, rolling in off of a busy May and a pretty stellar June.  Exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time, this summer comes in like theme park ride kind of way.  

The first few days were pre-set with some activities we didn’t choose, necessarily, but also don’t say no to.  We love them, indeed, with all of their sticky sweet summerness.  Do you feel this pull sometimes? Like a dripping popsicle, you try to keep up and somehow have more than a little of its juice running down your arm.

But then it’s suddenly a full week since school let out before you can even unpack the kids’ backpacks, or sit and breathe, to make any other solid plans, when in fact, you know it’s been A TIME.  You know you’ve had A TIME.  

Then you have to plan the rest of yours.  

I almost said “get to.”  But there’s really no privilege here, no presupposed leisure feel to any of this.  There’s lots of “should” and a few “could”s and a rather large smattering of “desperately need to”s.  

There’s no telling at first either, how much you can really get done-how many projects of your own you can tackle, how many neglected corners of the home you can set right, and how many adventures you can possibly have together, now that you’re all “home”. 

Don’t forget those dreams of lazily reading a book under a tree, and swimming lessons, and those friends you thought you might see during this endless stretch of time and imagination.  

But it’s not endless.  It’s roughly eight weeks, and give or take a few, it also means approximately a million dishes, seven thousand meals and fifteen hundred thousand loads of laundry.  Ha! Not really, but it can feel like it.

Look, I’m not trying to complain, I’m really not. It’s just that sometimes when you have “all the time” you begin to think that you should do “all the things” and that’s just not really true.   

That’s all this thing is really, a race against time, and you want so much for it to slow down so you can savor it.  For even and when the seasons change, there’s no telling if things will in fact be any different for you than they were in the past, unless you do something different

All I knew as this season changed into a new one, was this one phrase that came to me.  “Before screens, make something, play something, read something, pray something.”  

Not unsurprisingly, I had felt the pull to set down my own habit of social media, which had indeed grown into a nasty HABIT of less-than-worthy or admirable proportions.  

Neither time nor resources are infinite.  So we must decide differently, or it’ll all be the same.  That’s a hard thing to do, but so necessary.   We must choose how to wisely spend these precious commodities-our time and attention- or whittle them all away, we most certainly will.

So we (or I rather) started summer with only this thought. Of all we would set down, those habits and defaults that would only lead us to more of the same frustrations.  Now instead, we began to open up to more good ones, to more space, and hopefully, to more ability to feel alive, and with more awareness to be grateful.

Thing is, I feel called to write, to share, all the things.  But just because it’s “meant for me” doesn’t mean that right now it’s “for me”.  I felt the tug for a while but didn’t want to.  It usually feels life-giving to me to be able to share what God has put on my heart.  But it had begun to feel like there were diminishing returns, and even though I plugged away (I feel that I’m here to serve, not be served!), I finally knew in my heart that God was pulling me away for a season.  This was a season to be together with family, more focused and less on any screens. This was not just some vague idea for me, it was a gentle invitation from God, to set it down for a while. Knowing that at some point He’d probably have me pick it back up, with greater grace and to greater impact too. All because I was, willing to lay it down. 

The other day as we were walking out to the car.  I watched my son struggle with some packages that I had asked him to help me carry.  It was just a few small, unbreakable packages, just his size.  My hands were absolutely full (momlife!)  and I realized that his were blessedly free. So I gave him some of the load to share.  Teamwork is the dreamwork, isn’t it? 

 (As a side note, but not really a side note, we are now at that age where we can ask our kids to help in small and meaningful ways, as we should.  They can, indeed, help us.  It’s really not a right or a privilege of parenthood, it’s our responsibility- to help teach them, well, responsibility.)

But as I watched him struggle, he was becoming exceedingly frustrated.  He was wondering how he could in fact open the car door whilst holding both these two packages and the small precious item he had already been holding before I gave them to him.  He was, however, missing something.  

The very simple knowledge and understanding yet maybe, that he could set them down for a minute, while still being in obedience, in order to open the door.  And not only that, I said to him, repeatedly, “just put them down for a minute so you can open the door.  You can do it! It’s okay!” 

And I saw in that moment, that this is me. 

Sometimes and, sometimes, repeatedly, I have refused to see the simple act of  setting it down for a minute is not actually disobedience.  It’s taking a break just to go forward.  I think I must actually carry it- the thing that God has given to me to carry or accomplish- at every moment, or else I’m not really carrying it at all.

Motherhood.  Logistics.  Business.  Career.  Family obligations.  They aren’t all meant to be carried by you alone at all times.  It’s okay to set something down for a minute, just to manage, to open the door, to continue the mission.

Is this you too?  You think that you need to hold all the things for all the moments and then you wonder why you can’t get anything done.  Maybe you, like me, need to step back for a minute, see how ridiculous this is, how impossible. 

We are, sons or daughters, trying to hold all of the things by ourselves, instead of letting ourselves have the courage to let go of something for a minute. 

I think that’s why the situation with my son struck me so hard.  Because not only am I that child sometimes too, but I also know from watching and observing that frustration and complaining are never the answers. 

By refusing to set down the struggles, refusing to let go of overwhelm, we are refusing to choose being grateful instead of frustrated.  It’s an actual choice, and the lie that we can tell ourselves when we’re in the situation is that feels too heavy.

We become frustrated that we can’t do it exactly as we’ve been trying because we fail to see that we’ve already been invited to do it differently.

Doing something different requires you to actually *do something different*, not just transfer the same you and your (very) tired ways into, and through, the next open door. 

Maybe God just wants us to lay it down for a minute, to have a breather, have a new season, walk through that open the door, and then pick it back up to cross though. But if we refuse to listen and set some things down, we will always have these same frustrations, the exact same spirit, and thereby, the exact same outcomes.

I have, felt more grateful.  I have been writing less and living more.  We have had some grand adventure days and some wise, carefree or organizing days. We have chased sunsets and summer fun, everything in between.  But not like I tend to do, and not in an overwhelmed , harried way, fearing all that choosing and how one thing leads to another.  (Like how adventure leads to more laundry, and more laundry leads to less adventure, etc etc, on and on in continuum.)   I know that some of the changes have happened by taking some of the stress that’s caused by screens away, even if not fully, and even if it was not excessive to begin with (at least for the kids.). It was a subtle but important shift for us.

If you feel overwhelmed or burnt out right now, ask yourself,  what can you really set down? It doesn’t have to be big, and it’s a lie that might come up to say you can’t set anything down.  There’s always some life-giving and honoring way that you could set some things aside in order to care more about what matters most.  

Try it. See how it feels.

Maybe it’s worry, or complaining, or overwhelm.  

Maybe it’s social media, or half of your to-do list.  

Maybe it’s some supposed plans that you made or an unrealistic expectation or that other round of golf or lessons or painting class.  

Maybe it’s taking a step back for a season, just to reset, and try again when you’re ready to. Maybe it is, “summer break” after all?

It also doesn’t mean that what you set down right now means you don’t have to carry it at all.  It just means that you don’t have to carry it *right now*.

Like my son was struggling at the door, so was I a bit standing at the door of summer.  But now, I have heard His voice, inviting me to what’s better.

I feel more space, and it’s not because I hired a laundress or a cleaning lady or anything like that.  I still have the same, potentially overwhelming amount of “things” to do without feeling so overwhelmed.  Because of one simple shift, one small thing to let go of, I have not drowned in the regular way with the usual thing. I have stayed more afloat. Which has opened us up, strangely, to so much more goodness, too. (I have even gotten ahead in a few small corners!)

I have chosen to pause and see the opportunity instead of the obligation.  To see the beauty of all that God has handed to me, instead of feeling the burden of trying to hold it all together.  Because I don’t.  He does.  He has handed me a few precious packages, but I don’t need to carry everything simultaneously, all the time, not the full load. 

I mean, summer has always been kinda amazing, and this one is no exception. But, while shutting the door to struggle, we have opened it up to even more efficiency and calm. I realized (again) that complaining about something is not fixing it, it’s only adding to it.  Yet, there’s always *something* that can be done better, just by starting with one, or in one small way.  I’ve opened myself up to doing better just by, well, choosing better. 

Not perfection, but lack thereof and contentment in what really is good already.

I can and only must do my best on any given day, and nothing more.  

I can leave the rest for later, for another day.

And I can set aside the bad stuff, like guilt and shame, which are not meant for me, more permanently.

He gives only GOOD gifts, and so, I will carry them well.  I will rest when I need to, I will walk through every open door, and with gratitude and not with overwhelm.  

It’s His heart for me, after all, and for you too.