Like everyone on planet Earth, we had big plans for this summer.
We were going to board a cruise ship, sail the seas and celebrate a military retirement 20 years in the making.
We were going to fly to Alaska to celebrate the 15-year anniversary of the 16-month deployment that rocked our worlds and reshaped our military lives.
Our freshman was going to venture into the land of high school cross country and marching band, our middle schooler was going to compete live in the National Tae Kwon Do tournament he’s been looking forward to since the last one.
And our youngest children were going to frolic and play with sweet friends we’ve always met once a week at splash pads and pools on hot summer days.
But our not-so-little friend Covid changed that all.
And it turns out, God, in all His grace, used it to gift us something so much better.
Simplicity.
Stillness
Perspective.
Greatly needed personal growth.
Instead of jetting around the country in our 15-passenger van, and without the museums, playgrounds and splash pads that we would normally frequent open all summer long, we instead found no-frills summer alternatives: lounging by the grandparents’ pool on sweltering days, snuggled up in piles of blankets under books on rainy ones. We busted out board games we hadn’t played in years and began Pinteresting our ways through making little events big family deals. (Shark Week and all the carved watermelon that comes with it was an epic highlight of this summer’s celebrations.)
We returned to our love for tent camping and even abandoned our once strict proposition that human beings didn’t belong in tents when the daily temperature averaged in the 90s. (Welcome. After living in the same family room for five months straight, sweating your cahoones off while feeding your right arm to mosquitoes for a little change of scenery suddenly seems like a really bright idea.)
(Alaska, who, in our humble and unbiased opinion, is quite possibly the best dog on the entire planet, totally agreed.)
In our quest for a campground with socially distance-able spaces, we even stumbled upon a new gem — a lakeside campground with wooded sites the size of full yards that afforded us to swim and kayak right off our site, all located less than 45 minutes from our house.
We mass booked this puppy the day we got home and essentially claimed permanent weekend residency for the summer.
When we weren’t quarantined (because with four hygiene-challenged humans and a health care provider in the home, we’ve now experienced the joys of six different because-I-was-exposed or because-I-had-symptoms Covid tests and all the isolation loveliness that fills the days between test taking and results returns), we filled our weekends with bonfires and family airsoft battles and we even saw a few friends on backyard patios from six feet away.
Except for 48 hours I stole away the baby lover for a superspeed getaway to meet the two newest nephews of the family and share a pre-middle-school bonding experience together, it was the first summer in the history of our team that we didn’t leave the state for an entire summer.
And although it was different, in so many ways, it was just. So. Good.
As we pitched the Summer of Covid Cancellations as an opportunity, not an obstacle, to the superheroes who once loved their time at home but eventually would have sold their kidneys for a chance to play with other humans whose last name didn’t begin with C, we prayed, spun up Covid opportunities like cheap cotton candy and watched as they learned to make some 2020 lemonade.
With the inability to practice on his first-ever high school cross country team, Superhero 1 took the opportunity to run and train on his own using the workouts Coach provided. This dedicated athlete logged 40-50 miles per week all summer long and gathered with a few buddies he hadn’t seen in months to stretch his legs outdoors. Without marching band, he focused on trumpet lessons, and without summer camps for either of his passions, he used the once-in-a-lifetime free summer space to join his youth group leaders for a 36-mile hike-and-hammock along the Appalachian Trail … and experienced Jesus in big ways along the way.
He spent our reading afternoons conquering the classics (Animal Farm, Fahrenheit 451 and Of Mice and Men among them), and together, he, Superhero 2 and I simultaneously worked through the books Screwtape Letters and Just Mercy and held hard and deep conversations about Jesus, justice, repentance and redemption.
He used his free time to tackle his father’s Anatomy and Physiology book (and take basic A&P lessons from Dad) and also joined his aunt regularly via Zoom to cook and learn how to produce the most incredible food this household has ever enjoyed. (Thank you, Aunt Mandy, AirBNB Experiences and the gelato chef in Italy for teaching our boy how to recreate tiramisu gelato. My pants will never fit the same again.)
But one of the most precious things about this 14-going-on-40-year-old servant-hearted boy is that he did it all while offering babysitting, making our Mama-son weekly Aldi runs and asking nearly daily, “Hey, Mom, what can I do to help today?”
I’m clearly never letting the kid go.
With live tae kwon do classes and experiences cut and with few friends for our outgoing social butterfly to chat with, Superhero 2 spent the summer enjoying his second favorite activity of all time: reading. As an incoming sixth grader, he conquered 19 of the 22 books on the Middle School Battle of the Books reading list as well as reread some of his favorites from years past. And of course, he did it all in his trademark collection of onesies.
Although most live tae kwon do events were out for our team for the summer, Superhero 2 was blessed to be able to join the virtual tournament circuit, where he placed 1st in Virtual Nationals in extreme weapons (bo staff form) and earned enough tournament points through virtual competitions to score him the 2nd place overall finisher in the Eastern Region for 2020 competitions!
He also conquered another huge milestone on his journey to becoming a fourth-degree black belt by the time he graduates: He tested for and earned his second-degree black belt.
Of course for our wild animal lover, the highlight of the summer was not placing in a tournament or finishing a stack of books taller than his baby brother; it was collecting and trading a clone army with Superman, who has become his BFF, and playing with and visiting Grandma and Pop’s new 3-pound dog. (You wouldn’t believe a CHUG was a legitimate animal unless you Googled it.)
The extra hours I scored chatting with the loquacious little love who never stops thinking, talking or feeling (and who truly gives the best unsolicited hugs in the entire whole wide world) made my whole summer.
Superhero 3, who loves dogs almost as much as Superhero 2, spent much of his summer holding puppies and playing Mario Kart on Grandma’s back porch. (Thank you, Auntie Treasure Bunny, for introducing our video-game-deprived children to their grandparents’ first ever system. They now believe swimming comes second only to launching mushrooms at Mario at Tuesday night dinners at Grandma’s.)
For his 9th birthday, the boy with the contagious cackle and the long-lost best friends begged to invite four friends over for a socially-distanced Star Wars party. So, in masks and with foam noodle lighter sabers to help them keep their space, the boy who has lit up our world for the last six-plus years sweatily celebrated No. 9 in 95-degree style.
And, with the sweetest heart, also thanked us 95 times for finding a way to allow him to see his friends.
Although reading is still not his favorite, this hard-working incoming third grader met his summer reading goal when he finished two books from the Chronicles of Narnia series and seven more from his Roald Dahl collection.
But he spent most of his summer being the favorite brother and peace maker in a house full of boys who don’t always get along with each other but ALWAYS get along with HIM.
That means, with all his brother board game practice, he can now beat his father in chess, whoop every brother in checkers, build masterful and imaginative Lego creations like a boss and essentially be the one always asked to please, please, please play.
With all his free time, and with the help of his aunt via Zoom, this budding artist also used the summer to practice and hone his drawing skills, which he uses mostly to draw pictures of his years-long obsession: wolves.
How we madly love this boy. We know he’ll be the best veterinarian/wolf rescue worker/daddy with 16 kids and no wife anyone has ever seen.
Superhero 4, meanwhile, spent his summer doing what Superhero 4 does – stealing the spotlight, bringing us all to stitches and essentially declaring his general awesomeness to the rest of the living world. (Among my favorite quotes from this summer include: “Everyone want to adopt Superhero 4. Superhero 4 awesome,” and, “Daddy, who taught you how to make the babies? Where you learn that from?”)
He started swimming lessons with a sweet friend of the family, and in just a few weeks, he learned how to coordinate his hands and legs and legitimately move on his own in the water. He looks a little bit like a wounded, thrashing dolphin, but he can now get from one side of the pool to the other without floaties or assistance (just with a minor heart attack from Mom).
We continued lightly homeschooling this summer just to get this sweet and spicy guy prepared for real kindergarten, and by the time we finished, he could recite his numbers 1 to 60 and confidently and consistently knew all the days of the week, months of the year, shapes, colors, animals and letter sounds. He’s still reading the lowest BOB book levels, but his handwriting (which was a major hand-eye coordination challenge) has improved drastically with the help of awesome therapists who make him draw y “trees” and wet-dry letters on a weekly basis. (Sidebar: Our incredible PTs, OTs and speech therapists have now taught our children how to do everything from tie shoes to ride bikes. Translation: If you, too, are too tired or stupid to teach life skills to your children, simply take the kid to therapy.)
In August, we celebrated three years home with the most hilarious and determined boy we’ve ever met, and in true Superhero 4 fashion, he greeted us all for special breakfast that morning like a king allowing his subjects to dine at his celebration table.
We laugh constantly, receive a million hugs and kisses daily and still pinch ourselves (usually over the additional cups of coffee it takes to parent this one) to think that God would even begin to trust us with this spunky, shiny treasure.
While the boys dove into books and pools all summer, Super-Spouse dove into a new adventure: his first foray into civilian life.
Although he is still an active duty military P.A. until November 2, God worked out the most amazing arrangement of all time.
To allow Super-Spouse to work back up the medical skills that have been used predominantly on healthy 18-42-year-old largely male soldiers for an entire career (and exactly zero times on pediatric or geriatric patients since P.A. school), the military allowed him to intern in industry for the last five months preceding his terminal leave.
This means that, since June 1, he’s reported every day from 8 to 5 not to the unit where he’s served for most of our six years in our state but to the orthopedic department of one of the very best clinics in our area, where he’s brushed back up on the skills needed to serve a patient population outside of military life.
LOVE would be an understatement for the way he feels about seeing patients, resetting bones and spending time in the operating room under incredible surgeons he deeply respects.
It would also be an understatement for the way I feel about this crazy new life where I get weekly running and dinner dates and occasional weekend getaways with the man who actually now lives on my continent.
So. Incredibly. Blessed (said Michelle from her current place in the mountains with her man).
As for me, between some much-needed Covid attitude adjustments and a few “choosing joy” talks in the corner to myself (and some pantry-hiding truffle rewards for surviving another Covid day), I spent my summer free time largely learning, listening, praying and processing.
Keeping it real, the events of this spring hit our team hard. (They were also one of the reasons I took the entire summer off from blogging.)
For me, starting with the death of Ahmaud Arbery.
Because it struck me that as I didn’t have to think twice about which neighborhoods my teenager made his running route through, our Black friends and neighbors didn’t have that same ignorant privilege.
As we began initiating raw and real conversations about race with our friends of every color, our eyes were opened in new ways to the experiences of people we madly love … friends who shared with us “the talks” they had to have with their non-white children … experiences we had devastatingly never truly taken the time to ask about before now.
Experiences we had never truly looked at through the eyes of JESUS before now.
I spent my summer morning runs devouring podcasts on American history from other-than-white perspectives, and as I prepared dinner each night, I couldn’t listen to enough interviews from people like Latasha Morrison, Austin Channing Brown, Nona Jones and Brian Stevenson.
Tony Evans became my favorite sermon go-to, and by July, in an effort to intentionally seek out voices I had not sought out before, I’d finished Just Mercy, Between the World and Me, Be the Bridge, I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness and Black Like Me, as well as every post published on the Faith and Prejudice group’s social media page.
The boys and I examined our book inventory and ordered an entire shelf of books by authors who were not white, focusing for our family on ensuring we had plenty of Chinese and Asian voices for our children born in China to love and enjoy and be proud of and read.
And every week after reading time, the boys and I spent a few minutes as a family discussing current events, processing what it looks like to live in a multi-racial family and looking at racial disparities through the lens and eyes of Jesus.
We processed racial injustice, began examining our own racial biases, took time to repent and lament and began the process of learning what it means to love our neighbor as ourselves … with the same privileges and opportunities we desire for our own family.
We are realizing this learning is a journey, and we’re very much still at the beginning.
But to our brothers and sisters of every race, we want you to know that we see now what we chose to overlook before.
We hear your voices, and we are intentionally shutting our mouths to not just hear but listen and learn.
We are SO SORRY that in our pride and ignorance, we never took the time to view life through your eyes.
We love you, we grieve injustice with you and we are fiercely committed to standing beside you as the precious, priceless, prized image bearers of God you are.
This Labor Day weekend, as we close out this summer and move into fall, Lord, teach us to better love You, love Your people and treat every image bearer as a valued, treasured, cherished One of H1S.
