September Sailing


This past week I went out on the boat for one of those pathetic sails that sailors do in late September to justify not taking their boat out of the water at the end of August. At the end of the summer you say to yourself, “No, I’ll go out a couple of times next month. No sense pulling the boat out too early.” And then the month of September flies by and you find yourself sailing for the first time on September 30th.

In August the lake invites you out. It awaits your arrival. It was hoping you were going to come out today. The sun peaks out behind loose white cloud with warm breezes. August can’t wait to get going.

In September the lake is occupied, preoccupied when you arrive. It’s moody. The lake is flat with a gun-metal gray sky overhead. It feels like the weather could turn at any moment. If August says, “welcome,” September asks, “what are you doing here?” I can’t even write what October says.

God made the rainbows and the sunsets and everything else that is beautiful but He also made September, with it’s dead leaves dropping to the cold wet earth. (can you tell I’m not a fan of autumn)

God made the dull and drab along with the delightful. I wonder why? If beautiful warm sunny days make much of the creator, how come He made the less beautiful?

Perhaps the mundane reveals a little bit about the depth of God’s creation. It can’t all be beautiful. I am sure there are people out there who find drab days in September delightful… but I’ll bet they aren’t sailors.


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