Faith, GraceTable, Hope

What Always Brings Us Back To The Table

What Always Brings Us Back To The Table

If you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen a number of poolside photos in my feed this summer. We spent the summer mostly by the pool. Those plastic loungers acted as a cradle of respite for me, a safe, uninterruptible space for me to wrestle with my angst related to community and a wound that oozed far longer than seemed reasonable. I was near militant about our pool going. Mostly, the kids were on board, but even on days when they turned their toes in and sighed, again?! I drug them there, assuring them that it would be fun.

I needed what the pool deck offered, and maybe someday, when my children are adults, they will understand, and if it is warranted, perhaps they’ll even be moved to forgive me for forcing them to have the best summer of their young lives. (You can’t see it, but I say this with slightly rolling eyes and my tongue in my cheek). Nobody was harmed in my self-declared “Summer of Swimming”.

Those long hours by the pool among strangers gave me room to sit still in the warmth of God’s sun and untangle the knots that pressed me to close my heart to invitations…

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