Dog Days

This is the most excruciating couple of weeks in the whole summer. It's hot in Texas (I can't remember the last time the high temperature dipped below triple-digits). I also can't remember the last time it rained.

It's a little too early to get excited about the Major League Baseball playoff hunt, and my Texas Rangers are well entrenched in their customary late-summer choke anyway. The countdown clock I've been using to gauge the time until the college football begins is below two weeks now, but watching it is like watching grass grow.

Meanwhile, the majority of the ministries at the church are ramping up toward kickoff but aren't there yet. Summer classes are over, and the Fall Session doesn't begin until the last week of August. Although this is officially my last summer ever as a full-time student, I'm ready to get cranking again.

These are truly the dog days of Summer.

The Type-A voice inside of me hates this time of year. (Admit it - you hear those voices too). I'm a visionary guy who loves to create. I love to strategize, plan, implement, and be active in the development of new things. And I'm addicted to the adrenaline rush that's attached to coming up with a new idea, implementing it, and watching it work. So these two weeks to me are like quitting crack cold-turkey.

But I also find that my Type-A voice doesn't do a very good job of governing my levels of emotional, physical, and spiritual health. Picture him as the cheerleader dressed in red sitting on my left shoulder shoulder screaming, "Go! Go! Go!"

I've got another cheerleader on my left shoulder who doesn't get much attention. She's the cheerleader sitting on my right shoulder screaming, "Rest! Rest! Rest!" I don't listen to her very often because, frankly, her constant nagging gets bothersome. How am I supposed to create, plan, and strategize with all of her screaming on my shoulder?

The Dog Days of summer let the "Rest!" cheerleader have her way. And it's probably a good thing.

I used to have a choir director who had a great philosophy I've tried to adopt. He would constantly tell us, "Let's practice hard now, have our crisis early, and we'll coast into the concert." That's wise advice.

So, I'm thinking of these two weeks as having my "crisis" early. I'm recharging, taking advantage of the chance to read some things I've been wanting to read, and trying to catch up on some of the projects I've been wanting to do.

This way, I get to rest on my own terms. If I listen to the "Go!" cheerleader for too long, I'll end up resting on someone else's terms after I've sacrificed my physical, emotional, or spiritual health, and I don't want to go there.

For today, picture me as the cheerleader on the right. "Rest!" Kick back. Read a good book. Reconnect with your family. Watch the Little League World Series. And have your crisis now. September will be here before we know it.