Even after months of newness, strangeness, and changing patterns I am still surprised when life intervenes and challenges me to adapt. Throughout much of this unique and difficult situation, I have been reflective. Through regular walks, reading, and a few new recipes I have managed to process the bitterness and frustration of missing all the pleasant things that spring in Arlington affords. But I have found there is one fundamental disconnect that has been harder to heal and process. One that has become far more acute and has a great deal to do with the calendar.
At this time, mainly late June and early July, my mind and most certainly my spirit is on mission. Since 2006, late June and early July were sacred moments during a usually carefree summer. These few weeks were the times in which I as a youth and later as a young adult participated in the various mission trips that have so deeply informed my faith and my identity. These few weeks were times when I as a 16-year-old willingly and excitedly rose at 6 AM only to face humidity, blazing heat, cuts, scrapes, and the myriad problems of amateur construction.
My problem is that right now my spirit is in the various places I have worked, served, and loved through my life while physically, mentally, and emotionally I am sitting in my office chair, at home. I am not in Mexico singing and laughing in broken Spanish with the kind-hearted and brave people of Rio Bravo. I am not at this moment enjoying a lovingly provided ice-pop from our own Cindy Newcomb out in Winchester. Nor am I driving through the perilous yet beautiful mountain passes on our way to Garrett County. And I confess I feel disconnected.
This disconnect has led me to reconsider more seriously the way that seasons in our lives become ritualized. The ways in which time even down to the day has sacred and vital importance to us as children of God. In a way, it has helped me to understand a bit more clearly what the Bible means when it says there is a season for everything. And for so long in my life, this time has been a season of mission and a season of service. While I am upset and disappointed that we cannot go out to love and serve our neighbors I remain convinced that just as spring becomes summer, summer cools to fall, and winter blooms into spring, the season of mission will return. And we will be ready.