the longest day of the year
Yesterday, June 20th, was the summer solstice, aka the longest day of the year. Whenever the official “first day of summer arrives,” I have to laugh a little. First day of summer? It’s been hot in Arizona since April, and my kids have been out of school since May; we’re way past our first day of summer. And to be honest, each of those sun-soaked days has already felt like “the longest day of the year.”
In many ways, I love our summer schedule. I love the freedom and the extra playtime, the pool days and the movie nights. But summertime also signals the end of something I place a high value on. A commodity all mothers speak of in hushed, reverent tones: alone time.
A few weeks ago while trying to squeeze in a little bit of scripture study, I came across a verse in Romans 8 in The Message translation of the Bible:
“Those who think they can do it on their own end up obsessed with measuring their own moral muscle but never get around to exercising it in real life. Those who trust God’s action in them find that God’s Spirit is in them—living and breathing God! Obsession with self in these matters is a dead end; attention to God leads us out into the open, into a spacious, free life.”
Each of those words pierced me right through the heart when I read that verse. Here I was struggling to find alone time with God, looking for opportunities to sneak away and read my scriptures and write in my prayer journal or meditate in some much-needed silence, but was I missing the point? Was I trying to do it all on my own again? Was I worshiping my habits or was I letting God—living and breathing God—do His work within me while I do my work in my own home?
Of course, I still believe that time spent in the scriptures is always time well spent. And of course, I still want to create sacred spaces where I can commune and refill; my life is guided by rhythms and routines. But if I’m always waiting for just the right quiet moment to soak up the Lord’s presence, then I’ll miss out on all the other ways He is fully alive and present within me every hour. Every single long day.
He is alive in my messy kitchen that I cannot seem to keep clean in between all the meals and the snacks and the Mom I’m starving’s only ten minutes after I’ve fed them lunch. He is present with me as I dump three baskets of laundry on my bed, vowing to put it away before the end of the day, and He’s just as present when I shove those same piles onto the floor each night with a “maybe tomorrow” whispered at the end of my tired prayers. He is there in every sibling fight I break up, every board game played on the rug, and every late afternoon library visit.
Motherhood requires me to regularly exercise my spiritual muscle rather than simply measuring it in peaceful silence like I want to. These long hot days ask me to put away my schedule and give my time back to God, just as He intended. During this summer season when all my days blend together (what day of the week is it anyway?), I can practice changing my mindset and focus on what’s here right now—the open, spacious, free life God is walking me through.
If you’re feeling frazzled and rundown by this oftentimes overwhelming season, would you like to join me in simplifying? Rather than being resentful over what we can’t have—quiet, mess-free homes where alone time actually exists—maybe we can trust that God is doing His work—His living and breathing work—in every noisy moment. Maybe we can start treating this work of ours as the sacred act of worship it really is.
Because all those scripture stories we’re trying to make time to study? They lead us right back here. To serving and loving. To a life of giving and receiving.
Tired but happy.
Poured out but so, so full.
Happy summer, my friends.
We can do this.
