This Brief Summer

"Come live with me and be my love
'Midst valleys, woods and fields
And we will all the pleasures prove
That this brief summer yields."

from "Red, Red Rose," sung by Garrison Keillor on the CD English Majors: A Comedy Collection for the Highly Literate

Our time in the States is winding down, and we have been enjoying so many summer pleasures, from beach days, to precious time with family and friends, to Shakespeare in the Park last night (Richard III, which my son proclaimed "awesome," the same adjective he used to describe The Karate Kid), to a riverboat ride today.

Usually there is a twinge of guilt in my summer pleasures, because I constantly compare what I am privileged to experience with the deprivation others must suffer. This year I have even more reason for comparison, as hundreds of thousands of people swelter under tents in Port-au-Prince, and yet somehow I haven't been feeling that way. I'm not sure why, entirely, except that perhaps it seems a waste of energy to feel guilty. Instead I am using my energy to enjoy each moment as much as I can. I am deeply grateful for the blessings God has given me, and also deeply conscious that they can all be gone in a second. So while I do think of those people in Haiti, pray for them, plan our return and think about what we can possibly do to help, I don't feel guilty, just incredibly thankful.