The view from here

Our kids began their summer vacation at noon this past Wednesday. The morning was an emotional one for me, with my youngest now done with kindergarten and my oldest approaching his freshman year of high school. Let's not forget my middle daughter entering her final year of elementary school. (And, yes, there's Nathan, but approaching 7th grade feels to me like a respite after he navigated the first year of middle school, and quite well, I should add.) This, as well as it being our bus drivers' last day driving after 10 years, all made me a little teary.

As I was making breakfast Thursday morning, I heard one of them say, "It's hard to get used to summer vacation," and the others agreed.

The beginning of summer vacation is always something I've looked forward to with a more than a bit of trepidation. (When Rachel told me last February that they crossed their 100th day off the list, I immediately made a mental note to cross more things off of my "Get this Done While the Kids are in School" List!" Their routine is turned upside down and so is mine. It never occurred to me that these weeks are difficult for them as well.

Thankfully, though, God has blessed us with a smoother transition this year, helped by the fact that they are all a year older. (Yes, I realize this is what had me so weepy on the last day of school. It only took a day for God to show me the blessings in that!) 

Planting is just wrapping up, which kept the boys busy for their first days at home. The girls have been helping me with yard work and their daily chores at home. I've spent the rest of my time filling in their calendars with baseball games, VBS, sports camps, and scheduled time with family. 

I snapped this picture as Rachel was pushing me on the swing Thursday. (Another benefit to them growing older is now I occasionally get a push on the swing!)

It is a view of the two old elm trees in our backyard that I hadn't considered before. As the story goes, David's great grandmother wanted to be buried between those two trees. 

I've been assured that she is not.

Truth be told, they are not my favorite trees in the world. Right now, they are not covered with leaves. They are covered with millions of seeds that will blow around my yard, producing millions of tiny elm trees wherever I do not want them--in my raspberries and flower gardens to name just a few. It is always ironic to me that we deliberately plant trees that maybe have a 50% survival rate, but those baby elms will survive in a crack in a sidewalk. 

Thankfully, I can choose my view. I can lament these annoyingly awful seeds, or I can see something else.

I can see the branches that have shaded my children and me as we have spent countless hours swinging and playing in the sand.

I can look forward to the leaves that will soon cover the branches.

I can see the thick trunks that have provided a backstop for many a pitched baseball and a clothesline when my children were little.

I can be grateful for all of the seeds and blessings that will be combined into a beautiful summer of work and fun together.