Our pool is my happy place. Not for joint-friendly aerobic exercise, mind you, but for leisurely afternoons floating like a lazy fish.
Even though I’m not an “Aquarius,” immersion in the water rejuvenates and centers me like nothing else.
In the glorious months of Summer, particularly in the hottest days of July and August, the water is at its best: sparkling and refreshing. The cares of life melt away. At night, paddling around beneath the stars is as exotic as a mini vacation. I am grateful every time I slip in, day or night.
But like life itself, the season for the pool is brief.
The water is typically inviting enough by early June or so. In some years, I can use it all the way until late October but it’s truly at its peak only until Labor Day, when the water is the warmest and the days still feel like Summer.
Every year, this holiday seems to be the season's last bow, the final curtain call. Despite whatever the temperature may spike to in the handful of days that follow, Summer’s finale is evident to anyone with eyes to see: the sun slackens, the light diffuses, the days shorten.
Fall is lovely but the delights of Summer are unsurpassed — a float beneath a deep blue sky, sharing a meal outside in the warm evening twilight, a gentle breeze brushing bare skin, a cool drink in hand.
Every year as Summer fades, I feel a twinge of melancholy at losing these joys. And because there are only eight or ten weeks to enjoy the pool, I am determined to experience it as much as possible, even if it’s just for a quick dip.
Some of us approach life this way, don’t we? Thinking that we only go around once, so let’s make the most of it. You know, a bucket list— skydiving, a trip to Paris, snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef. But the most important experience of all is coming to know God.
In the same way that enjoyment of the pool is fleeting, so is our life on earth. The sense of time running out seems to intensify with age- you know, how many more Summers are there to enjoy? This is how my pool feels like life to me. Our days are limited, so we strive to make the most of them while we can.
If it isn’t obvious, I’m talking about another season altogether: our time on earth. And, more specifically what comes after.
I don’t pretend to know anything with certainty about what’s next but here is something Jesus said in John 14:
“My Father’s house has many rooms... I am going there to prepare a place for you... I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”
My sense is that God has prepared a place and a way of being that is beyond our imagining. But death is not the end.
I was a Presbyterian for decades before I noticed the church’s position on the hereafter, and I'm happy to report that it rings true to me. This is an excerpt:
“Presbyterian theology generally holds that at death, the souls of believers immediately enter into God's presence, experiencing a state of perfect holiness and glory…there is no purgatory, and salvation is a gift from God, not earned through works. The focus is on the victory over death through Jesus Christ and the hope of resurrection.”
The statement has many layers for theologians to unpack, but at its core, it amounts to life with God, forever. This is what I believe.
Summer is winding down inevitably. I'll savor these final weeks like a plate of fresh Sicilian pasta- simple, perfect, and look forward to the joys of Fall.
The song pairing is Daddy’s Summertime, a snapshot of my childhood Summers—naïve, innocent days romping outdoors, carefree and unburdened—that I once shared with my daughter one long-ago Summer afternoon, while she sat inside, glued to her phone, not listening at all! Until next time, stay safe, be brave and keep walking in the light.
