Proserpina has ascended from Hades, set free from her cruel husband, the lord of the underworld. Ceres, her mother, is rejoicing and her singing makes the flowers bloom, the grass green, and the sun shine forth with all his mighty heat. Mourning is over for her, the goddess of crops and fertility, and so the seasons of death are behind us for now. The earth no longer lies hard and frigid, covered with dead tree litter. The tears of the sky fall no longer frozen and white, but wet and hot, steaming back up from the earth they hit.
So held the Romans – riveting but misguided. Jehovah spins the earth and He colors it with seasons, white, brown, green, and golden. He said it Himself – “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease” (Genesis 8:22).
At this point in our journey around the sun, we are enveloped in warmth. We acquaint ourselves once again with the sea, plopping down on her sandy shores – umbrellas, chairs, and coolers at hand. We make castles on her doorstep and splash just within her threshold, knowing that her doors will never again be unhinged, upon her Maker’s promise. And so, we play.
When the earth’s great candle burns too hot, we flee to the mountains, escaping the sun’s heat by huddling closer to him. Leaving the many comforts of home, we live simply for a time in the woods, encamped on flat land between hills, finally enjoying firelight and the sight of the stars again. On those few days we excitedly rejoice in flaming marshmallows sandwiched between chocolate and graham crackers. Technology holds no sway at such altitude.
Summer is here – heat, sun, storms, waves, and mountains, all gifts given from the hand of the Father who alone spins and keeps the earth.