The sun rises behind the Metropolitan Cathedral of St. Paul in the medieval fortified city of Mdina as a plane takes off from Malta International Airport, Malta, in this Jan. 2, 2022, file photo. The Vatican has released Pope Francis' schedule for his April 2-3 trip to Malta. (CNS photo/Darrin Zammit Lupi, Reuters) As I write this sacred pause for thought, I have just returned from a beautiful walk along a beach road where summer has finally begun to reveal itself in all its glory. The sea sparkled beneath the evening sun, birds sang joyfully overhead, and wildflowers swayed gently in the warm breeze. For a few moments I stopped walking and simply stood still. The warmth of the sun on my face, the rhythm of the waves, the scent of the sea air, and the chorus of creation all seemed to merge into a single prayer of thanksgiving.
As I stood there, a simple but profound thought entered my heart: summer is God’s gentle reminder that life is meant to be lived, cherished, and celebrated, not merely endured. In a world that often feels rushed, anxious, divided, broken and burdened by worries, summer arrives as a gracious invitation from God to pause, breathe, and rediscover the wonder that surrounds us every day.
There is something deeply spiritual about summer. After the darkness of winter and the uncertainty of spring, the earth bursts into life. Trees once bare are clothed in green. Gardens overflow with colour. Birds build nests, flowers bloom, and fields sway with abundance. Creation reminds us of a truth we often forget: God is always bringing new life out of what seems barren.
There is a beautiful story I first came across in my dear Nana Scully’s prayer book many years ago that has stayed with me ever since. A father wanted to teach his four sons an important lesson about life. He sent each of them to visit the same pear tree, but at different times of the year.
The first son went during winter. He returned describing a tree that looked twisted, lifeless, cold, and barren. The second son visited in spring. He saw buds appearing on the branches and spoke of promise and new beginnings. The third son visited during summer. He saw beautiful blossoms and spoke of the tree’s beauty and vitality. The fourth son visited in autumn. He found the tree laden with fruit and spoke of its abundance and fulfilment.
When they compared their observations, they realised that each of them had been right. Yet each had only seen one season of the tree’s life. The father gently explained that they could not judge the tree, or its value, by only one season.
How true that is for our own lives. How often do we judge ourselves or others by one difficult season? How often do we believe that because we are struggling today, things will never improve? How often do we look at someone else’s life without knowing the battles they have fought, the tears they have shed, or the courage it took them simply to keep going?
Perhaps some who are reading this today are experiencing a winter season of grief, loneliness, illness, disappointment, anxiety, or uncertainty. If that is you, let summer whisper hope into your heart. Do not give up. God is not finished with your story yet. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). No matter what season you find yourself in today, God sees the whole picture.
One of the greatest tragedies of modern life is that we can become so busy that we stop noticing the miracles around us. We rush from one task to another. We worry about tomorrow. We replay yesterday. And in doing so, we miss the gift of today. Summer invites us back to the present moment. It invites us to slow down and notice.
Yet summer is not only about enjoying beauty. It is also about becoming beauty. For while the sun shines brightly, many people continue to walk through difficult seasons. Behind some smiles there is heartbreak. Behind some front doors there is loneliness. Behind some brave faces there are hidden tears.
And so summer invites us not only to open our eyes to creation, but also to open our hearts to one another. A phone call. A visit. A sincere prayer. A simple act of compassion. These things may seem small, but they often become lifelines for someone who is struggling.
As beautiful as the season around us may be, perhaps God also desires a summer within us: a season where faith grows stronger, gratitude becomes deeper, forgiveness becomes easier, compassion becomes more natural, and love becomes our first response. This summer, may we embrace trust, hope, joy, peace, mercy and love.