The Pumpkin Spice Latte has returned. With it marks the end of summer, the first chilly finger tips of fall, and the memory of New England winter.
It is both celebrated and disliked. Celebrated because it means the mornings are cooler and a nice steaming latte is perfect for the walk into work. Disliked because it means the BBQ at the lake, swimming, and beach days have come to an end.
What strikes me as most peculiar this year is just how quickly the time has flown by. It’s a dangerous trap of the mind to fall into, thinking about time. I look at my son and genuinely cannot figure out where my baby boy has gone. Logically I know, yet my mother’s heart aches for the hand that fit inside mine, for the feet I used to count toes and kiss, for the purely innocent insane smiles of a toddler running through the house and making fresh discoveries everyday.
Now the hand and feet are my size. The smile is still sweet, yet older, maturing. Discoveries are still being made, and yet, it’s all different somehow. Still wonderful, and different.
Then I turn to look in the mirror and behold my own face. Is that really me I see? I reach up to touch the skin, and I’m amazed at how much I’ve changed. When did this happen?
And it’s not just my son and myself, it’s my husband, it’s my step-daughter, it’s my dog, it’s the world around me changing and evolving and growing and discovering at such an alarming rate of speed that suddenly I feel my mind want to panic at trying to take it all in.
Everything, except of course, this Pumpkin Spice Latte.
It’s still the same. Sweet. Hot. Comforting.
Yet it is so difficult this time of year for the mind to not play tricks on me. The chill in the air reminds me of the coming of winter. The children’s birthdays have passed and school buses are again on the roads. Our anniversary is fast approaching, followed by the holidays, then our birthdays, and suddenly school will be out and the children’s birthdays will be here again. The year is filled with dates to remind me how quickly the year is coming and going to come and go again.
What about all the things we said we were going to do? What about all the things we want to do? What about….
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Peace. The lines of age beginning to appear on my face fade away. The ache of my heart for my baby understands the purpose of being a mother, and takes joy in my growing children. The lies of “time” are hushed by the Father and the trust of timeless eternity.
Hope and a future are what I have.
And of course.