Today.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

It feels drastic. How the world can seem harsh and cold as winter, and as sunny and peaceful as an afternoon walk.

Sometimes I feel I am a pillar in the change of life, and sometimes I feel carried along like a leaf in the wind.

Sometimes I feel older than I am. With dense years that compounded early, my eyes have grown accustom to discern what’s next. To anticipate. To brace and “pillar up.”

Sometimes I feel like a three year old on a tricycle. My feet slip on the turn of the pedal, and I am astonished at the bigness of what’s before me.

Yet there’s a joy there. A thrill, at what’s possible in this big place.

This big, terrible, wonderful world. Where winter’s battering and sun’s warmth are felt on what feels like the same day. What feels like the same hour.

I am glad for ancient wisdom in these times. Wisdom that was here before me, and will outlive me. It helps make sense of the world I experience. It says:

There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven

A time to give birth and a time to die

A time to plant and a time to uproot

A time to kill and a time to heal

A time to tear down and a time to build

A time to weep and a time to laugh

A time to mourn and a time to dance

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones

A time to embrace and a time to avoid embracing

A time to search and a time to count as lost

A time to keep and a time to throw away

A time to tear and a time to sew

A time to be silent and a time to speak

A time to love and a time to hate

A time for war and a time for peace

There’s a time for the tension of any given day. Any given hour. And this moment is a time given by Him. I’m thankful for His ancient wisdom that speaks and sustains this moment’s peace and warmth.

And I’m thankful He’ll still speak and sustain when it fades.