Have you heard Bananarama’s song, “Cruel Summer?” The plaintive melody accompanies lyrics that describe a sweltering season make crueler by circumstance. 2024 was, for us, a cruel summer: due to a perfect storm of hardship and heartache. Hardships global and national; heartbreak in vocation and for our family. Then, days before our creativity camp’s start date—with materials and food purchased and prepped, our house transformed into a space station, parents counting on us for childcare and children jazzed about launching their imaginations into space, we got grounded.

Mere weeks before the CDC approved a new vaccine for recent strains of the virus, COVID swept through our family. We had to cancel camp. We’ve never done that before: even during the worst of the pandemic, we went online, delivering art supplies to participants’ doors and guiding learning via the Internet.

In its eighteen years of service, A Spacious Place has made its way through a more than our share of hardships and heartbreaks. We’ve always picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off, and got back to it. This time was different. This time I saw no way forward. Felt no hope.

When the virus was done with me, the communities we serve awaited. I waded through preparation and packing for the simple reason that I couldn’t stand to be around myself if I let these people down. It helped that my family was there for me.

Classes got easier each time we went, each time we watched creativity unfold and faces find grins. Each day had its bright spots. For our August Young Artists Club, we provided Messy Art Day activities we’d planned for camp. The afternoon was messy, noisy, laugh-filled, wet, and wonderful.

I suspect someone reading this piece knows about cruel seasons. My hope for you is

1. That you be especially kind to yourself; wounds require rest and care;

2. That you take a step forward in hope, even if it’s a baby step; and

3. That you stay connected with someone who loves you unconditionally. We need connection, especially when times are cruel.

Today, I’m grateful for cooler temperatures and the promise of fall leaves. For the people we serve and for those who serve alongside us. And hope. I’m grateful always for hope.

What helps you hope? What do you do for self-care? Do you have a song that names a life experience for you? Share your thoughts at contact@aspaciousplace.com.