We Asked For A Great Summer.....

Our whirlwind summer of 2010 is winding down for me as school starts on August 10.

You read that right.

Mike and I continue to enjoy our time at the lake with expected and unexpected visitors. Last week, like much of the country, northern Indiana broke records for heat and humidity. Our little cottage, so quaint and all, has no central air, just a puny window unit in the bedroom. People used to live like this. I heard, through the fog, something about 110 heat index, whatever that means. Three days of it and I was drooping around, lifting my feet slowly, as I stopped into the coffee shop.

“Does everybody look like I feel?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” he replied, from his air conditioned station. “You want this on ice?”

What a great idea, a thought I might have formulated had my brain not become so soggy.

And then the barista reminded me. “It (heat) kinda makes up for last summer. You know, it was so cold and rainy. We really didn’t have much of a summer.”

Someone who works in a lake town would notice such things.

I, for one, do not remember last summer’s weather. Actually much of last summer is as foggy as the mist that rises off the sidewalks these days.

I have gone back in this blog and reread a lot of what I was writing in 2009. We had been braced to expect that Mike would not see 2010. As much as possible, we were preparing for that. Mostly, we were trying to savor what life we had, trying not to waste any precious minutes on the insignificant.
We were growing closer to each other and to our Lord. Friends surrounded us, physically and spiritually, reaching out to show their love and concern. They followed us and prayed for us and we leaned on their strength.

Now, as I look across the table at my blond, tan and toned husband, last summer is a distant memory. He’s swimming across the lake today, as he does every day we are here. Later, he will jump on a trail bike and let my nephew chase him through the woods.

There’s a natural spring routed to a drinking fountain in the woods and he stops every day to drink. That and the lake water: magical healing?
Whimsical and fun to pretend.

What we know is that God, for His reasons, has given us the gift of this summer. It has been and continues to be a great summer. I should stop complaining about the heat, I really should.
With our latest good report, we are, of course, happy. And you, our friends, have been streaming your shared joy to us. You might think, then, that it’s all good.

It’s mostly good. Almost all.

But, there is this can’t-be-ignored, tightly stretched rubber band inside me that causes a tension, a stress that is never really gone. It’s possible to get busy and forget about it, but it’s still there. We live with it. We are not complaining. Life is better than death.

And although much of last summer is less clear, the lessons remain sharp. Our walk with the Father is closer and more sweet. Our connection with all of you is also a blessing every day.
I will be returning to my classroom; Mike has another appointment some time distant, like October. Between now and then, adventures will ensue.

Mike will compete with his buddies in The Hoosier Hammerheads, International Aerobic Club Chapter 124; the chapter contest is next weekend at an officially sanctioned aerobatic flying contest, The Hoosier Hoedown. It’s a two-day event at the Kokomo Municipal Airport. If you are nearby, this should be quite the show.
(Mike gave up aerobatic flying when he became ill; he’s back behind the, uh, wheel. Personally, although I like the alliteration, I cringe at the terms ‘down’ and ‘head’ in the same sentence as ‘flying.’ But, nobody asked me.)

Next week, hurray, is our annual Sisters Weekend, moved to mid week as one sister now pastors a church. This year’s location is Santa Barbara. Checking the weather, to see who else is sweltering, displays the weather there as perfect: sunny and 65 all the time. Sister Kris says it will spoil us for the ordinary. I am ready for a little spoiling.

Mike and Zach plan to travel to Seattle and kayak with the orcas.

I have no idea.

But, I will ask you, our friends, to continue to remember us. When God shows up mightily, Satan trains his guns in the same direction. We know who wins in the end. We need to send the bad guy packing