From the Director’s Desk
School started this week here at Calvin. Besides directing the Calvin Center for Faith & Writing, I chair the English department and do various other college work, so I was around a fair amount in the summer. Naturally, there’s a quiet, steady hum of activity happening in offices around campus throughout June and July, but it’s forever a joy to see the place revive with the energy of the returning students.
I love the rhythm of the school year. I’m one of those rare people who has never taken a break from the academic year—it’s been straight through from preschool to grad school to the professorate.
What a privilege to have truly gotten to be a life-long learner!
In the August weeks of preparation, as my fall semester calendar got ever fuller, I began realizing that this looks to be an even busier year than normal. Not only is it a Festival of Faith & Writing year, but I’ve taken on some extra teaching, some extra service assignments, and an appointment on a search committee—in addition to what I had originally planned for. I also have several writing projects that I’ve promised, and the journal I edit publishes three times a year. And I’m planning a student trip to Italy next spring.
Whew! It can feel like a lot!
I don’t know how your turn into fall is going. I hope, if nothing else, you treat yourself to some new office supplies or maybe some new shoes, simply in the spirit of the thing.
But I imagine, you might be rather busy, too.
As I’ve accepted all the calendar invites, I’ve also been trying to be intentional about scheduling other time, too: a lunch break, for example. Time for a Bible study. Time for worship, rest, and recreation.
I want to try and emulate the Benedictine ideal of ora et labora: pray and work, knowing that the former fuels the latter.
Literature is always a help, of course, in imagining this richer life.
And yet, so much bounty, so much goodness, so much for which to be “grateful” right there in front of us. Taste and see, the psalmist tells us. The Lord is good.
It’s why I’m very fond of Jane Kenyon’s poem, Coming Home at Twilight in Late Summer. It gets at precisely the wonder of this season: “so much to be done,” the speaker observes as she gets out of the car.
And yet, so much bounty, so much goodness, so much for which to be “grateful” right there in front of us. Taste and see, the psalmist tells us. The Lord is good.
I hope you’ll find time to feast on your own metaphorical “pears” in spite of whatever other work lies at hand. Taste and see!
Coming Home at Twilight in Late Summer
by Jane Kenyon
We turned into the drive,
and gravel flew up from the tires
like sparks from a fire. So much
to be done—the unpacking, the mail
and papers; the grass needed mowing …
We climbed stiffly out of the car.
The shut-off engine ticked as it cooled.
And then we noticed the pear tree,
the limbs so heavy with fruit
they nearly touched the ground.
We went out to the meadow; our steps
made black holes in the grass:
and we each took a pear,
and ate, and were grateful.
