I don’t know if it’s spending afternoons at a pool after a 15 year hiatus. Watching the girls delight in the sweltering summer sun. Or simply the contemplative in me taking a moment to breathe. Whatever it is, I find myself savoring the summer in a way I haven’t since Natalie Merchant and the 10,000 Maniacs sang “These Are The Days.” A song I had long forgotten on a CD long ago donated. A song that was an anthem in high school.
I spent my week re-membering high school. Perhaps it was revisiting Dead Poet’s Society in this week’s sermon. Perhaps it’s in recognizing that this is the first year since kindergarten that I will not be spending my days in the world of education. Whatever the reason, I’m reflecting on the “gold ole days.” And thinking, wait a second. Wait JUST one second! Those days. Those good ole high school days–I was really ready for them to be over.
As challenging as life is as an adult, there’s no way I would want to go back to high school. Or college. Or my 20s, my early 30s, or last year. There are moments I’d want to re-live, sure. But a do-over. I don’t think so. I prefer today. Right now. Sure, I like to look back, and with all the changes recently, I think I’ve been doing more of that than usual. But as I look back, I don’t want to stare.
And maybe that’s the key for all of us who relate to the Israelites journey with Moses or the disciples journey with Jesus. Something happens in the following. And we leave what was. The comfort. The safety. And like the Israelites who yearn for Egypt or the disciples who yearn for simple answers, we can hunger for the days long gone. A hunger for what we think was simpler, easier, better.
I can’t help but wonder if this hunger isn’t so much for what was as for the sureness we think we remember.