The Saturday Journal: In Time
The skies are slowly changing outside my window–trickles of light shine through the dark skies–the earth spinning on its axis. And as I sit here the light gets brighter and I ask myself–pray tell, just what time is it... really?
This “time change” this "day-light savings"–I’m suffocating in tiredness–waking up all hours of the night thinking it’s time to crawl out of bed. Like last night–I woke up thinking it’s time to get up–I felt like I’d slept forever and I rolled over and looked at the clock and it was only midnight! What??!!
My internal clock is so out of kelter!
Change is hard. It’s difficult–even good change “takes a getting” used to.
King Solomon wrote so eloquently, To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: (Ecclesiastes 3:1)
A dear friend of mine sent me a photo this week–her grandbaby girls–twins fresh out of the womb and on her daughter’s face was the brightest of smiles. It is a photo I will always treasure.
A time to be born
And the gardenia sprouts in the window–soaking in water the color of the sea–there’s some that’s not going to make it. They are dying and right beside them hangs this full, vibrant Swedish ivy with leaves of deep hues of green. The ivy and the gardenia sprouts–they all share the same sunlight–fed with the same blue water. The only difference, possibly–the ivy is steeped in dirt–growing deep roots.
Change will be coming soon for the gardenia twigs. It’s not that I have given up on them. They can be used for another purpose. But for now, I’ll linger in their worn beauty for a few more days.
A time to die
He’s standing in full uniform--this veteran holding a bucket in one hand and a red poppy–the “Buddy” poppy in the other. And my heart quickly goes to a precious memory of my sweet friend Ann Walker. Every year she gifted me a “Buddy” poppy–in memory of her brother–in honor of her son. She worked tirelessly for veterans and those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. She worked hard so we wouldn’t forget.
A time of war.
A time of peace.
My grandson’s memory verse this week is Ecclesiastes 3:11, He hath made every thing beautiful in His time: also He hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
And I reflect on King Solomon’s words penned in his hand and I read them again–how he illustrates life--the good and the bad–the bad and the good.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
Yes, our world is broken–sadly, we see evidence of it daily. But how many of us (my hand raised high in the back) how many of us hole up and settle on the bad, when in fact we should be dwelling more on the good. Seeing more of God–more of His good.
And there we were–a small group of us gathered in the corner--in a circle–a dear friend asked us to come together–closer. She spoke of her family member–a beautiful friend to her and to all of us. She goes to the doctor today for tests, she said. This lady, she knows the story well–her loved one has been through this illness before. She asked us to pray.
So we gathered right there on the pickleball court and we bowed our heads–gave thanks to the Lord and prayed for her healing. And before we left on that hot November afternoon–the loved one–the friend to us all received a good report in one area and more tests are forthcoming on another.
A time to love
A time to embrace
And my grandson, he keeps repeating the words over and over, He hath made every thing beautiful in His time.
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All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer
We spend our years as a tale that is told.
Psalm 90:9
COMING SOON!
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