We’re waxing down our surfboards. We can’t wait for June
We’ll all be gone for the summer. We’re on surfari to stay
Tell the teacher we’re surfin’, Surfin’; U.S.A.
Few opening lines capture the feeling of summer quite like Surfin’ U.S.A. by The Beach Boys. It’s more than a tune—it’s a mood. It hums with anticipation: school winding down, suitcases coming out of closets, and the quiet thrill that something memorable is just around the corner. Summer has a way of doing that to us. Even if we’ve never stood on a surfboard, we understand the rhythm of preparation and expectation. We plan. We pack. We look ahead to vacations, to time away, to new experiences and the kinds of memories that linger long after the tan fades. As you get ready for your own “summer surfari,” you’re likely already making lists—what to bring, what to do, where to eat. You might be scouting the best seafood spots, planning beach days, or mapping out excursions. All of that matters. But there’s one addition worth considering, one that often doesn’t make the list: making time for worship.
Several years ago, during a three-month sabbatical, I had the opportunity to travel to places like the San Juan Islands, Washington, Bryson City, North Carolina, and a handful of quiet state parks from South Carolina to Kentucky. Those landscapes were beautiful—but some of the most meaningful moments came on Sunday mornings, sitting in unfamiliar pews. Visiting different churches became an unexpected highlight.
Each congregation offered something unique. Different styles, different voices, different rhythms of worship. Yet in each place, there was the same thread—a shared devotion, a reminder that God meets us wherever we are. My wife and I found ourselves lingering in conversation afterward: reflecting on what moved us, what challenged us, and what we might carry home with us. (A small tip: bringing back a bulletin or program can be a wonderful way to share those experiences with your own church community.) And here on the Barrier Islands, that invitation goes both ways. For many who vacation on Seabrook or Kiawah, church becomes part of the destination.
At Church of Our Saviour, welcoming summer visitors isn’t just something we do—it’s part of who we are. There is a quiet joy in seeing families and individuals include worship alongside beach chairs and sunscreen, recognizing that rest for the soul belongs alongside rest for the body. Because in the end, the best summers aren’t just about where we go—they’re about what fills us while we’re there.
So go ahead—wax the board, chase the sun, and savor every sunset. But somewhere between the waves and the laughter, make room for something eternal. That’s a summer worth singing about.
