This summer is all about harvest. I still live in the city, so I’m not talking about wheat crops. No, it’s a season of celebrating the growing things I love most, my children.

Our oldest is thriving in a serious relationship with a woman we adore; and he will move out of state next month. The “twins” graduated from high school. One persevered through significant learning disabilities, and we couldn’t be more proud. One will fly away to college in August and play the sport he worked so hard to re-enter after an injury. Our youngest commences high school soon. Meanwhile, my husband and I rejoiced in twenty-five years of marriage. We are savoring a mountain-top view, looking back and marking God’s faithfulness with profound gratitude.

It’s also a cliff. I can’t see what lies on the other side of this pinnacle. If I think about it, I admit I’m a little terrified. So, I’m simply trying to stay within the borders of today, present, and savoring each breath. Trusting that the God who was faithful will ever faithful be.

It’s a summer between. A time when art isn’t so much something to be expressed as something to be lived.