This city worships the summer. The beaches fill, the clothes come off. Everything plays second fiddle to the weather. Isn’t it beautiful? Love this city! Can’t get enough of this view!
It’s only a season. For everything there is a season. And a time for every matter under heaven. It’s easy to sing, time is in your hands. It’s much harder to accept that the beginning and the end are not ours to command. Summer will end and the rains will come again. He will give them to us in their seasons. And so we wait. And renew our strength.
It’s a strange thing, trying to fit back into your own life. I feel detached and more invested all at once. It comes in stops and starts. Beginnings and endings. And so I wait. To renew my strength. It’s only a season.