Monday, August 16, 2010

Loving My Manna and Quail

Weather. We talk about it. We discuss it. We plan around it. We hope for it. We anticipate it. We rail against it. We post about it. If you’re unsure what to say to someone, you can always mention the temperature, and an uncomfortable, limping conversation will get going.

I try not to complain about the weather. As a girl, my father always made note of it in our mealtime prayers. He was always thankful. If it was raining, he gave thanks. If it was sunny, he was pleased. However, this last spring was a trial and tribulation. Even my contented father complained. Facebook status updates were getting a bit too predictable. People were threatening to move to Arizona; get a time share in Sun Valley; or charge their cards, hop on a jet, and land in Hawaii. I was beginning to wonder if the sun would ever come. I panicked a bit, imagining no summer, just one really long spring---straight into the mucky winter of 2011. My chest tightened. Panic attack!

But now the sun is here, and still we complain. Facebook was at it again. People were hot. They were having trouble sleeping. They were debating window A/C units, adding a few more fans to their arsenal. While all these troubles and sufferings were legitimate, I just couldn’t bring myself to complain. Had we forgotten already what April, May, and June had been like? Remember the rain? The muck? The doom and gloom? I remember it, a bit too clearly. And so I refuse to complain this summer. I will be the one lone Israelite, wandering the desert, and heartily eating my quail and manna. After all this is what I was wanting---heat and sun.

I want to have to wear shorts. I want to be able to fill up the backyard pool and apply sunscreen. I want to open my freezer and stand for a quick cool down. I relish purchasing Popsicle and lemonade. I smile as I get to wear sunglasses and crank my van’s A/C. I desire to live this season fully. I want a warm evening to run my bare feet through the browning grass.

The sound of the backyard sprinkler is rhythmic music, reassurance that seasons continue and the earth is still doing its thing. It is August. It is summer. I am thankful. I am right outside the promise land, and I have no intention of being left behind---left to waste away in my own complaints.

My middle son informed me that he thought summer was too hot for him. “I just like fall; it is warm. It is not cold or hot.” It is my favorite too, but I think only because it follows a hot, sizzling season I anticipate, depend on, and plan on enjoying---summer.


Rachel P. said...

And here I am, waiting patiently for winter. I don't complain about the heat although I could certainly live without the sunshine. As you mentioned, I don't complain because I know it will make me appreciate the cool weather and rainy days of the other three seasons.
PS. You know my mother, TJ.

Heidi C said...

i love your comment about the limp conversations that follow a comment about weather. so true. seems one of my neighbors always resorts to this. it kind of makes me smile.

heather said...

I am savoring these hot summer days! Of course, my air conditioning makes it much easier to savor...but still, I love the heat of summer because that is what makes me ready for the chill of fall.