Summer Reflections: More Than Just a Vacation
According to the Cambridge Dictionary, the word summer comes from the Old English sumor, which itself traces back to the Proto-Germanic sumra. Similar versions appear in Dutch (zomer) and German (Sommer), with the root stretching to the Proto-Indo-European sam- or sem-, meaning "together" or "one." How fitting that the very word for this season is tied to ideas of unity, gathering, and shared experience.
As a child, I spent much of May preparing to answer the inevitable classroom prompt: "So, tell us about your summer vacation." On the surface, it seemed like a harmless question. But looking back, I realize how loaded it was—assuming every child had access to the kinds of experiences deemed "share-worthy": vacations, camps, or exciting adventures.
But for many children, summer looks different. Some spend it alone at home, navigating hunger or worrying about safety. Others carry burdens that childhood should never include. For them, summer isn't a break from reality—it is reality. That well-meaning question can unintentionally stir discomfort, shame, or silence.
My summers were filled with travel and family. We made the rounds from Columbia, South Carolina, to Richmond, Virginia, and then up to Philadelphia. There were day trips to Atlantic City and Lancaster County's Dutch Country, where my older brothers playfully warned me about the "mystery" ingredients in Shoofly Pie. Our aunts told stories of the Great Migration—of Black families seeking freedom and opportunity in northern cities. We played wall ball and double Dutch, opened hydrants to cool off, and danced at block parties. We drank iced tea infused with mint straight from the garden and shared meals whose flavors linger with me still.
Those were the good old days—and I wouldn't trade them for anything.
My husband and I usually spend the year planning a trip to Japan to visit our children. But this year, they came to us—filling our home with laughter, stories, and the unmistakable energy of youth. We found ourselves praying for more moments like these. At one point, I wondered how our granddaughters might answer that familiar classroom question: “What did you do this summer?” And I smiled. That simple question has traveled across generations and continents—but perhaps now, we can ask it with more care, more curiosity, and a deeper sense of compassion.
Because summer isn't just about vacations, it's about how we find connection, joy, and meaning—even in the hard times.
So, how is your summer going?
I pray you've found space to rest, to breathe, to live into moments of joy—however small they may be. This year has not been easy. We are living through a time marked by uncertainty, deep divisions, loss, and grief. I continue to hear from many of you about political tensions, job loss, illness, and the passing of loved ones.
In times like these, I often return to the words of the Apostle Paul: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances."
And to my favorite Psalm, which asks:
"Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God."
Summertime Prayer:
Loving God, Creator of all times and places, we thank you for the gift of summertime, the days of light, warmth and leisure.
Thank you for the beauty that surrounds us everywhere we look: the multi-colored flowers, the deep blue of the sky, the tranquil surface of lakes, the laughter of children at play, people strolling in parks, families gathered around picnic tables and the more time to spend with family and friends.
As we open our eyes and ears to the landscape of nature and people, open our hearts to receive all as gift. Give us that insight to see you as the Divine Artist. Help us to realize and appreciate that you are laboring to keep all in existence. Warm our souls with the awareness of your presence.
Let all the gifts we enjoy this summer deepen our awareness of your love so that we may share this with others and enjoy a summertime of re-creation. (Rev. J. Pribek)
With Grace and Peace,
Rev. Ashley