Jenny’s letter 17th August
Dear Friends,
Serving God, Serving the Community
We are still in the middle of summer — and yet, there are hints that the season has reached its richest point. The flowers, once bursting with fresh colour, now carry the warm, slightly faded beauty of their maturity. The days are long, the air is heavy with the scent of grass and warm earth, and the evening light lingers in that golden way that makes you want to pause and drink it in.
It’s easy to rush through these days, distracted by busy diaries or thoughts of what’s next. But summer, in its fullness, invites us to do the opposite: to slow down, to notice, to savour.
The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” We often hear this in moments of change, but it speaks just as deeply to the moments we are living now. This is a time to be present to what is right before us — the hum of bees around the lavender, the feel of bare feet on warm grass, the cool relief of shade at midday.
In the Gospels, Jesus often pointed His listeners to what was happening right in front of them. “Consider the lilies,” He said — not lilies from a memory, not lilies in the weeks to come, but the ones growing right there in their fields. God’s work is here, in this day, in this exact breath.
For some, this heart-of-summer season is joyful: holidays, visits with friends, the welcome space between the busyness of spring and the demands of autumn. For others, it can still be heavy: worries, illness, or loneliness that do not take time off with the weather. Yet Psalm 46 reminds us, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Not a help we must wait for, but a help who meets us in this moment — whether that moment is a bright afternoon picnic or a quiet, tearful night.
Perhaps, in these weeks, there is an invitation to let the slowing pace of nature be our own. The flowers have stopped racing upward toward the sun; they are simply being, open to the light they receive. We, too, can let ourselves rest in God’s presence without striving, trusting that the One who holds the seasons holds us as well.
When the first crisp mornings arrive, we will be ready for them. But for now, we are still in the warmth, still in the golden evenings, still in the time of open windows and late sunsets.
Let us inhabit this summer fully — not as something slipping away, but as a gift still very much being given. May each day bring us a reminder of God’s presence: in a shaft of light through a kitchen window, in the laughter of neighbours, in the quiet peace of the late evening air.
With love and blessings,
