The Drudgery of Summer

In theory, the phrase “no schedule” sounds delightful to me. I can wake up every morning, calculate how the children feel about plans for the day, and then go out to explore the sunny, pale-blue-sky world in whatever way seems best. I can do the smelly, stacked-up dishes when I want to. I don’t need to concern myself with tables of lesson plans or how I’m going to get the lunches made and packed in time. I can sit in the shady quiet of the back yard feeding the chickens clovers and listening to the wrens buzz in their nest box. So, so delightful.

Or so very boring!

Please, please give me back my schedule. I miss carting the children off to different events where they burn off energy and meet new friends. I miss doing the dishes calming and faithfully after every meal. Will you please give me a class to teach? Or a lecture to lead? Perhaps a small group to facilitate? Can we please go somewhere that requires me to make and pack lunches? I think the chickens can find their own clovers for a while, and the wrens don’t require an audience for their performances. Please, please give me something to do!

Can you tell? The drudgery of summer finally settled into our household. My brain feels like its slowly, slowly, painstakingly slowly, turning into an old, unused wet sock. I’m dragging my feet to nowhere as my body desperately tries to walk through the humidity clogging the air. I could take a nap at any moment. Maybe I’ll just go lie down on the couch, if only the couch wasn’t covered in monster trucks and blanket tents. How many weeks until the fall? That many?! Oh please.

Maybe you feel the same way I do. Maybe you felt this way when the first school-year event finished late in the spring and the wind started to feel less frigid and the sunshine shone a little brighter. Maybe you heard a bird sing a lovely aria from the top-most branch of a bush, and dreaded what that mournful summer’s-coming-soon tune heralded. I believe most of us struggle when schedules come to an end and the season changes, even if that season oftentimes brings joyful new memories, uninterrupted family time, and warm, golden days. I think J.R.R. Tolkien summarized the feeling well: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us.”

God still requires that we serve him, no matter the season. Spring, summer, fall, winter—he gives us all the time we need to accomplish the good and wonderful purposes he laid down for us before time began. He set our paths long ago, and though they may occasionally meander through empty plains where lazy grasses wave and busy insects hum, we must continue to follow the clear route before us. What a beautiful thing! God’s plans do not sit directionless and void. They come to fruition at all times, in every way, in every season. We can bring glory to him as we look for ways to serve him, even in the most supposedly trying circumstances like the drudgery of summer break.

We can take extra time to memorize Bible verses and sing with our children. I compose tunes to go along with the Bible verses, and my tired sock-brain becomes less wet. We can read and discuss stories from the Bible, answering every single thought-provoking quarry of our little ones. I like to think of them as my “small group.” We can read the funny adventure books we don’t have time to read during the school year. I feel more lively and awake as I laugh along with my kids at all things silly. I even feel inspired to tell my own stories as Samuel’s good-guy Beanie Baby fire truck force attacks my bad-guy Lego racecar airplane platoon. (Take that, stuffed cat!) And, I have even been known to bury a lesson from the Bible in one of these fun, playtime games. In these somewhat boring days, we can do what God commands of his people in Exodus in ways we cannot during the busyness of the school year, “And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise” (Deuteronomy 6:6-7).

The drudgery of summer comes, but so does the joy of summer. “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9). You can do good in these still seasons of life. Use them to God’s glory and look forward to what they will produce. And, when the shift in your schedule finally comes, praise God for seeing you through yet another summertime lull!