As we step out of the season of fear and isolation of Covid19 and into the abstract surety of the “school season” (yes I’m a grown women with no kids who still thinks of September - June as school) we get to experience somewhat of a second fresh start of the year, marking the transition of summer to fall here in Ontario—before the year winds down.
What a chapter to read then, that this is all divinely calculated and upheld by the One who created the Seasons in the beginning. Things WILL change, wether we like it or not. Not on our timeline, but His.
My life has felt like I’m stuck in a rut the last while, a good rut—a rut I am thankful for, but a rut none the less. When change was constant for me from the age of 0-24, my late 20’s, the “settling down” feels foreign and unwelcome.
How comforting to know for oddball, change-obsessed people like my husband and I—who seem to thrive on change—that there IS a time for everything.
This isn’t forever.
We aren’t forever. But He is. --- For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what 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 seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, 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 for war, and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 | ESV
