Back when August was truly the month that ended summer, I remember knowing school wouldn’t start until after Labor Day. For me, high school August meant the intense beginning of football practice, two-a-days in the heat. This week, with Birmingham’s heat index hitting 108 degrees, I can barely imagine those practices now – yet I did them, as did many other high school boys. 

Today, August feels different. Here in Alabama, school now begins in the very first week of August – a full month earlier than in my youth. Perhaps schools start earlier now because most in the South are air-conditioned and can provide relief from the heat, as well as prevent learning loss over long breaks. 

The combination of August’s new rhythm and a recent Kirkwood outing to see the Warblers concert at Samford has made me nostalgic. The Warblers Club was a Birmingham men’s choir that started at Woodlawn High School in 1929.The group has always specialized in the Stephen Foster genre of American music, with a blend of spirituals, Vaudeville hits, patriotic classics, and songs that lend themselves to barbershop harmonies. The Warblers announced that the show this July might be their last ever due to new member recruitment challenges.

My nostalgia was deepened by an article I saw last week about The Cascade Plunge and Pavilion. Billed as “Birmingham’s Resort Beautiful,” this unique landmark opened in 1923, boasting one of the largest swimming pools in the nation, supposedly accommodating up to 3,000 swimmers! The resort also had a ballroom that was later renamed the Cloud Room. It hosted dances and live entertainment. I spent several summers there, in what I truly thought was the biggest swimming pool in the world.

A few years ago, I was building Habitat houses on the very grounds where Cascade Plunge and the Cloud Room once stood—both now gone. These shifts – retiring a Birmingham tradition, shifting to new rhythms of school, changing the very landscapes of our memories – invite us to consider how we navigate life’s constant flow.

What does it all mean? What does it matter that school begins earlier than it used to? This simple example illustrates a profound truth: things have changed. Life moves on. While I hold fondness for some threads of the past, I am profoundly thankful for the tapestry of change. This willingness to embrace the new, to see it as potentially better, is not just practical; it is a deeply spiritual posture.

Among my many thanks to God is the grace to celebrate and welcome change. I pray I never become the old man rigid in his ways, or one who laments, “back in my day,” implying the past’s inherent superiority. Such thinking misses the divine pulse. There is a magnificent verse in the Bible: “Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19). This isn’t merely about adapting; it’s about recognizing God’s active, continuous presence in the unfolding of life—always creating, always renewing. To preach, teach, and speak of God’s grace demands that I live graciously. Welcoming change, with an open heart and mind, is one of the most profound ways to live into that grace, aligning ourselves with God’s ceaseless work in the world.

Peace,

Cary