At some point, I started calling the month of May’s busyness and chaotic nature, “The May Crazies.” I think the same could be true for August.
“The August Crazies” has a nice ring to it, as well. I don’t think you just get “The May Crazies” or “The August Crazies” because, before you know it, I think they also end up happening to you.
Dance recitals, first days of school, and work quarterly projects begin and end.
Graduations, Mother’s Day, appointments, and nearly-forgotten anniversaries.
Spring cleanings, weddings, birthday parties, and endless yard work.
Transitions, heat waves, and last-minute Labor Day vacations.
Somehow, during these two months, the days blur together and we find ourselves squeezed into obligations, wondering what we’ll find in the back of our pantries to make for dinner. Dragging ourselves into day after day, we’re snoozing our alarms for five extra minutes of silence and rolling over, wondering if anyone would notice if we dipped and dodged the day’s plans and pretended to be sick.
There’s not a page on WebMD for “The May Crazies” or “The August Crazies” and maybe that’s because it’s self-diagnosed. But it doesn’t have to be found online for it to be entirely real.
Perhaps you have “The August Crazies” now. Maybe you can remember years when you did or maybe you’re recognizing symptoms in friends and family members.
Either way, at some point, we’ve all felt the cyclical nature of the straining and stretching, commotion, and agitation that happen when we live through busy and chaotic seasons of life.
If you’re like me, at this point you’ve said “Yep, that’s me” to “The August Crazies” and now you’re wondering where to find the cure, a one-size-fits-all, quick fix, and solution. Alright, fine, I have it…
Now make it stop! But, because we’re wise, we know sometimes the only way out is through.
We know that even through awareness and recognition, the dishes keep piling, the grass on our lawn keeps growing, our kids and spouses keep getting hungry, and the mail keeps being delivered. People keep calling and asking and reminding and inviting and planning and overstaying.
We’ve seen the cheesy Facebook posts that say, “Don’t worry, be happy” with the smiling dog and duck in the background (or something like it). We’ve heard the “One day, you’ll miss this” comments from well-meaning strangers.
We know this, too, shall pass because it has before. However, we can’t help but feel the anxiety from being over-committed in the moment.
I don’t have a magical piece of advice that’ll make your “August Crazies” subside, but I do have a story that sounds a lot like ours:
As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing (John 9:1-7).
While I could touch on many parts of our John 9 passage that intrigue me, I’d like to stick to this: If one of the purposes of the Sabbath (which is when Jesus connects with the man born blind) is to rest, and through rest we can experience healing, then it makes sense that (even if complete rest isn’t possible) part of that healing starts when God helps us to see.
Our eyes probably won’t be opened through a dirt and saliva mixture. But maybe they’ll be opened through a quiet noticing.
We have dishes to do—“food on our tables.”
Lawns to mow—“homes to live in.”
Loved ones to feed—“families in our corner.”
Mailboxes to check—“we’re not forgotten.”
And, yes, people do keep calling and asking and reminding and inviting and planning and overstaying. So maybe the miracle isn’t found as we wait for God to show up.
Perhaps the miracle lies in recognizing God already has. There is still something to notice, still something to enjoy.
Maybe, just for a brief second, in between the blur of transitions, appointments, heat waves, and parties, God is already standing here with metaphorical paste in hand to help us continue to “go” and to continue to be “sent” back into the world, like the man born blind.
The miracle is not found while we’re waiting for God to show up in the chaos, but that we find God waiting for us there. Wouldn’t it be like God to guide us through “The August Crazies”—not by taking them away but by showing us that we’re not alone in the midst of them?
Amen.
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Anna Parish, originally from Auburn, Alabama, earned a B.S. in Applied Health Sciences from Troy University and is currently in her second year of the M.Div. program at Campbell University Divinity School. She serves as an intern at Hayes Barton Baptist Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, where she enjoys walking alongside people of all ages as they explore their callings. Anna is passionate about cultivating authentic communities through holistic spiritual development. She is pursuing a vocation in hospital chaplaincy and authorship and is interested in religious social science research and preaching.
