I Hate Summer

I hate summer.

Really.

I hate the taste of watermelon, the feel of chlorine stained hair, and the smell of sweaty bodies. I hate sand in my house, 100° heat and hearing birds at 5:AM. I hate whiny kids, spoiled kids, sticky kids, and kids who can’t play by themselves. I hate the hours of unstructured time. I hate the extra hours of sunlight. Days are so long they stretch into one another and there is no excuse to cozy up for the night with a good book. I hate light summer non-cooking, everything seems to be a salad. I am waiting for sweater weather, a good hard freeze, and a crisp day. I am waiting for winter.

Winter is my season. I love all the trappings of it: the heavy clothes, the heavy food, and deep heavy colors. Shoes and socks trap my feet, hats hide my ears and the aromas of soup fill my nose. I am finally comfortable in my own skin again. It’s time to stop comparing tan lines, flat tummies and vacation photos. It’s time to put away the bikes, sunscreen, and beach towels. At last I can light a fire and have a cup of hot tea.

It has taken me years to discover, admit, and feel content saying: I hate summer and love winter. It’s not the norm as I see it. Everyone loves summer. Right? Maybe. It has also taken me years to discover, admit, and feel content saying: I am a Christian. Sometimes I fake liking summer as when everyone is looking forward to the end of the school year and all I can think is, “I’m really going to miss this.” Sometimes I fake it for Christ too and that’s far worse.

I don’t mean that I offer service with a grumble. I mean the times I deny entirely. The moments when tested I don’t claim to be a Christian. The times I don’t seize the day and talk about how Christ is alive in me and leading my life. The good thing is I can act out my faith while I am learning to be bold about talking about my Christianity. It’s easier for me to do good works than to talk about them. (And doing good works in the winter is the best time of all!)