Golden Hours: Hour of Freedom

Written By: Jordan Ravensbergen

My second summer working full time felt… lacking. I had entered the summer full to the brim with ideas for family fun, exploring our city and adventuring in the beautiful area where we live. 

By the end of summer, I was still full, but now the ideas had soured, reminders of yet another thing I had wanted that did not come to pass. Constantly comparing the way my summer had panned out to the highlight reels I saw others share on social media. 

Too quickly we had arrived at the final week before returning to school and the frustration about the magical summer that never was remained. Yet we persisted, infusing order to the chaos that had claimed us in lieu of the routine school afforded. 

As our efforts went on, I noted that one of the kids was messing around with our recyclable cardboard. I’m not sure what made me take a beat and watch before I said anything, but I’m so glad I did. I watched him stack a haphazard collection of cardboard boxes together, and then take a few steps back, pull back, and launch forward to attack the boxes. 

Sliding the door open, I approached with curiosity, “whatcha doing out there bud?” 

He answered excitedly, “punching Trash Monsters!” 

None of my family fun ideas had included punching Trash Monsters. I hadn’t seen that on social media. Most importantly, it wasn’t something I would have come up with. 

Yet, it was a memory that stuck for my son out of that summer. 

In the space of the summer that I had so desperately wanted to fill with action packed, instagram worthy adventures, what a surprise to find I needn’t have worried at all. 

What a freeing revelation. 

I wonder how that summer would have looked if I had found that freedom earlier? 

Now, at the beginning of each summer, when the temptation to fill each day with life-long memories, I remember that moment–the simplicity of my son playing with what we already had. 

The space I had been so anxious to fill, became the space my family needed to engage their imagination. 

“Look at the birds in the sky: They do not sow, or reap, or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you more valuable than they are?”  (Matt 6:26 NET) 

I’ve been looking at the birds in the sky lately. Perhaps it’s a lingering curiosity after the last time I tried to draw a bird, a need to know what birds look like. Maybe I’ve just been too afraid to look up at a bird in flight for fear of falling excrement. Whatever the reason, in the last three days alone, I’ve seen eagles, a hawk, an owl, and a woodpecker. I’m sure I’ve seen many other species, but as I haven’t gone full birder, they weren’t as memorable. 

As I ponder my son’s Trash Monster moment and the freedom from the belief I was responsible for making summer magic, worry is what kept me caged. While concern and care for our families, our friends, our broader community is a normal thing, when we worry, we limit ourselves to our own ability to help. At least, that’s how it works for me. Swept up in worry I think through all of the angles and ways I might fix the problem. 

Not only does that make me the only one able to hold the weight of whatever I am worried about, it excludes God from the process. The same way I had inadvertently excluded my kids from the process of making a memorable summer by trying to fill it with all my own plans. 

But it is not enough to simply “stop worrying.” 

In Matthew 6, Jesus doesn’t end with “do not worry,” he gives us a call to action. “Above all pursue his kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matt. 6:33 NET) 

Freedom isn’t found in stopping our effort, it's found in surrendering our efforts to God. 

We start to view our lives less through “how can I fix this?” and more through the lens of “I can’t wait to see how God comes through this time!” Let’s be real–this is incredibly scary at first, especially if our basic needs are in jeopardy. It takes time and trust to grow that attitude of surrendering to God. 

As we go through these Golden Hours this summer, seeking simplicity and space for God to show up, it might be tempting to worry if you are doing it “right.” If we are resting properly. If we are slowing down the right way. If we are doing as well as everyone else. 

My prayer for you in this series is to embrace your own sacred pace. To hold tightly to what God is teaching you, and find freedom in trusting in his care.