Rest in August & our sweet July wedding

It is 95 degrees today in Chicago. Cicadas have been singing all day long, creating a constant sweltering lull which beckons the weary to rest. 

Summer in Chicago can be breathtakingly exquisit. With time to rest, and lay on the beach, it’s as if my brain is slowly cooking off stress and challenges from the year.

In July, Patrick and I were married. Our wedding was a tiny back-yard garden ceremony, with our immediate families and a few extras. The ceremony was simple, beautiful, officiated by my wise friend Marci. My sweet nephews were our ring bearer and flower master. Patrick and his brother played two songs on guitars during the ceremony. I wore a flower crown. My best friend and her husband came to town. We hosted my brother, sister-in-law, and nephews for the week. 

Exchanging vows with Patrick to love each other through all of the seasons of our lives, was a breathtaking experience. I’m incredibly happy, content and grateful. Everyone who knows Patrick understands why. I don’t think our creator could have made a sweeter, kinder man. 

I also resigned from my full-time job this July, in order to open up the space I needed in my life to pursue my writing career. Deadlines in July and early August have kept me busy, in addition to hosting many visiting family members and attending reunions. But I’ve found the space in these last weeks of the dearest month of summer to rest, to sleep, to go on long walks and let the winding knots of life untangle themselves. 

I love summer in Chicago, and its dear insistence on our rest. The lake is warm for swimming, and I live only a mile from it now. This week my friend Aubrey will visit. I have not seen her since our trip to Cuba two years ago. I look forward to more days of rest, and long walks, and filling my cup with art, literature, friendship, love. I have worked terribly hard for the past few years. Several times I worked harder than I probably should have. But the opportunity to write, to interview, to do what I have always felt called to do, was too precious for me to turn down. Now, I am called to breathe. To play. To prepare good food for those I love and to let these “days of kindness” soak into my soul. 

To anyone reading this: I wish for you love, peace, and rest.