Invincible Summer

In Florida, we don't see much change around us as the seasons go by, but I was in northern Virginia earlier this month and signs of spring were everywhere. It started with noisy birds at dawn. Little flowers coming up through the grass. Buds opening into new leaves and flowers on trees. A fresh scent in the air.

Watching all this brought to my mind Camus' statement, “In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer.”

Then I started to wonder if I had an invisible summer within me, and what it might be.

One thing I know I can always count on is my family and friends. For love, encouragement and help you couldn't find any better support group.

But abundant love and kind intentions isn't enough to really be an invincible summer. My dearest ones are totally there for me the best they can be, but sometimes it just isn't what I need. All people have their own needs... they get busy... they don’t always understand...

Occasionally I think I know how Abraham Lincoln must have felt when he said, "I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom, and that of all about me, seemed insufficient for the day."

My problems are nothing compared to what Lincoln faced, but I do know that when there's no where else to turn, we always have help through prayer.

No matter what might be going on around us, what might be disappointing, painful or troubling, there is a completely reliable source of help. We can find it in the midst of any winter, no matter how dark or cold. That is Jesus Christ. For love, mercy, kindness, wisdom, strength, peace, help, hope. He is the Invincible Summer. He is just a prayer away.

I love this hymn.

Where Can I Turn For Peace?

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.

Emma Lou Thayne, b. 1924© 1973 IRI