Solstice

We all woke up this morning, into the longest-lighted day of the year. Summer's beginning. Our Summer Solstice, June 21st... marking astrological changes, keeping us counting our time and dates in ways that makes sense. "It's the longest day of the year!"

The irony of course is that this day is no longer than all the others... it's just the presence of more light that we all find fascinating. More light means more adventure. More time. More capacity for fun.

Just... more.

After all, it's a hopeful feeling to wake up into a day that promises so much light. The very word "solstice" reminds us that this day is fleeting, and only temporary. So we wake up with this feeling of excitement, that this day might hold some small, extra, secret joy for us. An extra ray of sunshine. An extra moment to see the colors around us. An extra second to play outside before the sun falls below the horizon. It feels like something to treasure, and it only comes once a year.

- - -

And we seek, we run after mystery.
We delight in things that are given freely,
just for our enjoyment.
We find joy and hope, in the presence of light.

It's just another sign, another wonder,
another way to prove this...
we are a people with eternity written on us.

It's all right there. Today, it's in the form of a summer solstice. Yesterday, it was in the form of something else entirely. Tomorrow, its form is yet known only by God - but it is always upon us, sealed on our hearts, beckoning us out of this world that is marked by time and rotations and astrological calculations... Our hearts are made for a world other than this one.

- - -

For me, extra daylight means an extra few minutes to sit outside and write this evening.

The past few nights, our backyard has been enchanted with lightning bugs beyond numbering. I sit outside and feel Summer on my skin, close my eyes and listen to the crickets and cicadas and frogs that rest in the brook behind our house. The stars come out, a few planes cross the sky, and I wonder about what lies beyond all of it. There is a peace that settles, as the sun dips down below the hills. The effusive glow of twilight, the ever-increasing fade of day. And I sit, and I watch.

I sit, and I know, and I remember Whose I am.

- - -

So today, like every other day, I will live the best that I can - regardless of the extra sunlight.

I will work in my yard, clean up my house,
do the laundry, write some emails,
drink some coffee, and pray as I go.

I will study, read, think and ponder.
I will try to wield and try to unravel,
try to mend and try to manage,
the various parts of my life and my day.

I will talk with my husband,
talk with my neighbors,
water my flowers, and check the mail.

And it will be a day much like every other day.

But tonight, I will have a few extra minutes to see the writing on the page before the darkness forces me inside. And I will have a few extra minutes to sit underneath the wonder of the solstice sky, and think about the God who meters and measures my days much more than this world ever could.

And i will remember Whose I am, once again.