Summer vacations are magical; now you see them, and now you don't!

When I was in grade school summer vacations seemed to last forever. The promise of three months off was the norm. And to my young mind, the languid days from the end of May to the beginning of September, moved at a glacial pace. Now at sixty years of age, summers whiz by. Where did it go? Now you see it, and now you don't.

I suppose how we experience time has something to do with Einstein's Theory of Relativity. (Maybe, I got a C in Physics.) The less conscious time that you have experienced as a nine year old makes those summer months seem to last forever. But when you get to sixty, well...need I say more. The knees speak volumes!

So on this traditional last day of summer vacation, Labor Day, I pause and try to get conscious about whurrrrrrrrrr of time, our pasts, presents, and futures as we age. What are our histories teaching us? What is the wisdom of our lives? What do we know that we know that we know? Where can we connect with our hard fought wisdom?

I submit to you find a sacred place and allow the Spirit of God to touch you.  One woman I know uses the corner of her bedroom with comfortable chair, small table with an icon and candle as her "prayer space". Another person's sacred space is simply a kitchen chair by a large window overlooking the backyard where they can nurse morning coffee by themselves before the day launches. And one man told me that his sacred space is his car where he can commute to work. (I need more silence than I-95 affords, but God bless him.)

The point is look for those sacred places, those "thin places" as the Celts called them, where the divide between past, present, and future can be touched if just for a few short moments. The insights and glances that we can glean in those tender places just may get us through the week at little less crazy than we were the week before. Happy Labor Day!