May It Last

There is a sea and I am a captain,

of something unknown, waves high as mountains

There is a key and there is a life

Here's to times that I catch it

May it last through the night.

-The Avett Brothers, May It Last

We stayed up late one night a few weeks ago and finally watched the film, May It Last, a documentary about one of our favorite bands, The Avett Brothers.  And since then, I've been listening to their music nonstop.  I was on a run early last week, with the catchy beats of Ain't No Man and Satan Pulls the Strings carrying me through my early morning lull.  And as I barely made it to my five minute cool down walk, the song changed to May It Last, the last song on their most recent album, the song that later became the title of their compelling documentary.  I listened to the words of the song for the first time and couldn't help but think about my summer and the transition we're once again in of finding our place within another school year.  It resonated with me so much and has become a sort of anthem for seeing these days and all that's in them.  

This life really is like a great big sea.  There are highs and there are lows, and while we don't control the sea itself, we do get to be the captain.  We get to navigate the waters, and we are very much in control of how we respond to them.  Sometimes, we ride them well, coming out with our feet on the ground with more appreciation for what's behind us, and other times, we crash, we burn, but hopefully we get back up and learn a thing or two about how to ride the next one a little better than before.  

As this summer comes to an end, it's easy to feel thankful and look back on all the happy, joy-filled moments within our slow days.  We had a wonderful vacation, crossed off lots of summer bucket list adventures, and traveled near and far collecting so many good memories along the way.  But there was hard stuff, too.  Difficult decisions and bruised relationships.  Lonely days and uncertain days.  The very first day of summer break, I felt on top of the world.  I had nailed our new summertime routine and felt as though this stay-at-home mom thing was a breeze.  And then we were playing at the park and I noticed a big ol' abscess above Mila's front tooth.  I was informed the tooth would have to be pulled, sooner rather than later, and this small piece of news sent me into a spiral.  I became obsessed and a little frantic about the whole thing, and don't care to admit how many times I cried about my daughter losing her tooth a year or two early.  

And then I remember a late night Facetime date with Kate, a dear friend who always knows how to encourage and also speak some truth into the places I need it.  She asked me why it was that I was having such a hard time with Mila losing her tooth, and softly nudged me to open up about some dark feelings I was battling, things like my struggle to give up control, perfectionism, and vanity.  Just naming the things sounded a bit ridiculous, and soon my tears turned to laughter as I released it all from my tight grip and let God have it.  I felt like God was tenderly loving me through my fragile state, using it as a small wave to ride into my summertime.

Well, I'm happy to report that Mila got her tooth pulled the end of June and we all survived. :)  She did amazing and I've easily fallen in love with her new gap-toothed smile that seems to fit her spirit just the way it should.  And while I sometimes feel a little ashamed over how much I let something that small affect me, it was a good example of life and how we handle it.  It exposed some hard truths about my ability to struggle through and ultimately withstand a storm, increased my empathy towards people battling storms much greater than my own, and taught me that at the end of the day, God is bigger than this world BUT has a plan for us while we're in it.

As much as I want it to be, this life can't all be ice cream afternoons and kayak rides into the sunset.  There will be sunsets, when everything feels alive and I feel on top of the world, and there will be storms, when I have to tread, and swim, and probably swallow some water.  But I'm learning to trust God with the sea, knowing He's given me what I need and He's not planning to let me down.      

As I gear up for another school year, one that will bring a change of pace for our family and new adjustments for us all, I want to navigate the waters well.  I want to learn from the waves, and live hard and laugh through the moments where I feel like I might drown.  And for the moments when I catch a sunset, I want to treasure it to my core.  May it last through the night.  Or maybe even until next summer!  

Good Things from August... 

727. Post-dinner family bike rides to Prairie Lakes Park after it had rained all afternoon.  The air was cool, the sky was pink, and Cruz rode his bike through every single puddle, just as he should.

728. Playing baby dolls with the Sorbe kids in the front yard.  

729. Reading Harry Potter to Cruz before bed.  

730. Monday morning donuts and waving contests to all morning commuters.     

731. A yummy dinner of beef tenderloin, corn casserole, and tomatoes from the garden shared with Uncle Taylor and prepared with my sweet sous chef.

732. A rainy Sunday night that made me giddy for fall.  Christopher Robin and Pooh's simple and beautiful one-liners.  That red balloon.  The profiles of my two loves in the dark theater.  A rainy drive home that made me feel like London.  An attached garage.  Our coziest jammies and a house that feels like a hug.  

733. A cleaned and fully stocked linen closet.  

734. Surprise midday visits from Great Grandpa and Grandma.

735. Sidewalk chalk creations while Daddy's working late.

736. New patio furniture that invites both conversation and a Sunday afternoon nap.

737. A new season of baseball.  Mila in a t-shirt and pigtail braids.  Cruz's relaxed and laid-back approach.  And a patient Daddy who loves to coach.

738. Rockets' Donuts and our favorite Waterloo playground.  Colorful murals and siblings who live to make each other laugh.

739. Watching them conquer their fears.  Like the downhill slope in our cul de sac or the high dive at the Hampton pool.

740. A rained-out tea party at the Hearst Center.  We made it all of about five minutes before the skies gave way.  But instead of running to the car, we hid under a canopy of leaves and watched it all.  Smelled the rain, listened to the rain, and then danced in the rain with our umbrellas.  Then I carried her to the car and she wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tight.  

741. When Mila draws a picture of me and asks me to write, "I love you with my whole heart," on it.  

742. Six weeks of a couples' small group.  Forging new bonds and eating yummy dessert.

743. New backpacks for a new year.  A brand new school for Cruz and a teacher we are so excited for.

744. Packing a picnic lunch and meeting Papa Curt at the park in Waverly.  Following it up with a new pool and our favorite Tropical Sno.

745. A day in Allison.  We picked up donuts (so many donuts in this post!) and had a picnic at Grandma's library.  We had the place to ourselves, the kids checked out 18 books, and we read and read.  Then we brought lunch to Great Grandmas to see Bear and Buff.  

746. A perfect day for Lost Island.  It was hot and the water felt so good.  Mila was tall enough (and brave enough) for some big slides and they loved the wave pool and the lack of rules on the lazy river.  

Thanks for the memories, summer.  Until we meet again...