A Theology of Enough Time - Day Three: "There Is A Season"

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” — Lao Tzu

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Last night I stayed up late watching election coverage, and the surprising results from all over the U.S. 

Maybe you woke up today and are pinching yourself, trying unsuccessfully to contain your joy. 

And perhaps you think the world has come to an end, and you feel lost and morose.  

To everyone on all sides of the political spectrum, especially those of us who claim to follow Jesus, know that no matter how you feel today, keep stumbling after Jesus, and all will be well. 

Our elected representatives work for the people, and it is up to us to hold them accountable.  

There are seasons to everything, and inevitably seasons change.  

Take comfort in knowing that God is in the midst of all of our seasons. 

We should not despair, nor should we be too triumphant.  

Other seasons lie ahead, and we have important lessons to learn. 

So, keeping that in mind, I  will now semi-awkwardly segue into this week's theme: a theology of enough time.  

We spend a surprising amount of time wishing we were somewhere else in life.

When we're young, we want to be older.

When we're older, we wonder where the years went.

When we're single, we may long for a relationship.

When our homes are filled with children, we sometimes dream about quiet.

Then the children leave, and we miss the noise.

We look backward.

We look forward.

And somehow today keeps slipping through our fingers.

Ecclesiastes says there is a season for everything.

A time to be born and a time to die.

A time to weep and a time to laugh.

A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

Life has seasons.

The problem is that we don't always like the season we're in.

Some seasons are joyful.

Others are difficult.

Some are productive.

Others seem frustratingly slow.

Some seasons are productive.

Seasons when our lives expand and seasons when they become smaller.

I sometimes want every season to feel like spring.

New possibilities.

New growth.

New beginnings.

But creation doesn't work that way.

Neither do we.

Trees aren't failing when their leaves fall.

Fields aren't useless when they lie dormant.

Winter isn't evidence that life has disappeared.

Something is happening beneath the surface.

Maybe we need to stop measuring every season by the same standard.

There are times for accomplishing.

There are also times for healing.

Times for speaking.

Times for listening.

Times for beginning.

Times for ending.

Wisdom means recognizing which season we're actually in instead of demanding that it become another one.

Maybe your life doesn't look the way you thought it would right now.

That doesn't necessarily mean something has gone wrong.

Perhaps this season has something to teach you.

Something to give you.

Something to prepare you for.

The question isn't always:

How do I get out of this season?

Sometimes the better question is:

How can I live faithfully while I'm here?

Because this season will change.

They all do.

And someday we may discover that there was something beautiful here we almost missed because we were waiting for what came next.

Every season doesn't have to be productive to be sacred.

Prayer

God of every season, help me receive the life I have today instead of constantly wishing I were somewhere else. Give me grace for the season I'm living, patience for what cannot be hurried, and wisdom to recognize what you might be teaching me here. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. How would you describe the season of life you are in right now?
2. Are you resisting something about this season?
3. What might become possible if you stopped trying to hurry into the next one?