You can’t tell it from the heat and humidity, but fall is almost here. I love the season of football and firepits and falling leaves. But the transition from summer (arguably the best season of the year) to autumn (also arguably the best season of the year) has always been really difficult for me.
Mostly because for me fall always feels like a time of loss. Loss of daylight. Loss of sweet corn. Loss of windows-down, radio-cranked drives in the country. And most of all: loss of extra time with the kids as they go back to school.
You’d think that would get easier over time. But here I am with two daughters about to start their junior year of college in Arkansas and “back to school season” still hits hard.
It stings because I know that I have not been savoring each moment all summer long like I should have. I regret that I’ve often been too busy with the things that concern or interest or drive or entertain me.
As they pack up their rooms again, I come face to face with the reality that time is fleeting and moments are precious. I want to desperately clutch these final hours with both hands to squeeze every last drop of love and joy out of them. I don’t want to miss a thing. I want each conversation and interaction to be meaningful and life-giving.
But then it hits me. Time is fleeting. Moments are precious. All of them. Whether they occur in the middle of February (arguably the worst month of the year) or here in the late dog days of summer. These little moments are precious because life is precious. And people are precious.
I want to start really living like that. I want to live with a “back-to-school” mentality all year long. I want to really care for others and let them really care for me. I want to treat every interaction with others as if it really matters. As if it were the last. Because, let’s face it folks, we don’t know how long we have on this planet to love and serve each other.
By now, y’all know I’m a country music fan. And no one crafts a clever lyric like Brad Paisley. Whether it’s fishing with your grandpa, breakfast with your mama, or throwing a ball with your favorite dog: there’s a last time for everything. These little daily moments are what make up our crazy, beautiful, fading lives. Savor them. Cherish them. Squeeze every last drop out of them all.
“Let each of you look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).
