do not move rocks

 

There’s a lot about me I’ll never understand,

but one thing I know:

When big things are happening in my life,

my voice gets smaller.

And when life pushes forward too quickly,

I tend to pull back.

Lately, I’ve felt a big push on my life,

and because of this,

I’ve found myself pulling quietly.

If I’m totally honest,

I’m still not sure which direction I’m pulling,

but this morning I decided I’ve been quiet long enough.

Quietly trudging through the end of David’s life and Solomon’s work on the temple,

I’ve felt a lot like the writer of Ecclesiastes,

“A generation goes and a generation comes,

but the earth remains forever.”

Eccl. 1:4

For the past week and a half,

it’s been enough to read these Words alone……

one generation saying, “Goodbye,” to this world –

another jumping in to take the baton.

“What has been will be again,
    what has been done will be done again;
    there is nothing new under the sun.”

Eccl. 1:9

Maybe that’s why I second-guess my need to write more times than I can count.

How many times does the same thing need to be said?

But then I reach a morning like this one,

where my mind slows down enough to process what I’ve taken in,

and I sit here once again,

clicking away at my keyboard…..

not sure where the moving of my fingers will lead me,

but certain they will lead me back to Him.

That’s how writing works for me.

Like a road leading home,

writing carries me.

I’m able to fight my way out of its arms many mornings

when my mind moves faster than my fingers could ever type,

but there are moments like this one,

when I give in.

Settle down.

Rest my head.

Stop looking at the clock.

And give writing permission to do its work.

I love these kind of mornings.

Leaning back,

I release the urge to control or coerce a message.

I refuse to write to be heard.

I write to listen.

And this morning I need to hear the words,

“But beyond these, my son, be warned;

there is no end to the making of many books,

and much study wearies the body.

When all has been heard, the conclusion of the matter is this;

fear God and keep His commands, because this is for all humanity. 

For God will bring every act to judgment,

including every hidden things, whether good or evil.”

Eccl. 12:12-14

I need to know this life matters.

The rising and the setting of the sun both have meaning.

Death and life do too.

I’ve watched our community grieve deeply this past week,

and I’ve watched it rejoice at the very same time.

Social media is like a roller coaster of emotion.

In one post, God is good,

while the next makes you wonder how.

One thing is certain:

Life has a way of offering highs and lows in the very same breath.

The writer of Ecclesiastes observed this same truth ages ago when he wrote,

 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, 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.

And maybe that’s why I’m writing this morning,

because I need to know that just as summer follows spring,

spring follows winter.

Always.

I can’t experience every season at once any more than I can experience every emotion at the same time.

But I need them all.

What is joy without sorrow?

And what is sorrow without joy?

A mountain is only as high as a valley is low.

And a valley is only as a low as a mountain is high.

That’s the mystery of this life.

Can I fully appreciate the goodness of God if I’ve never experienced a moment in life without it?

Singing the chorus,

“He’ll never let me down,”

is tough for me.

But deep inside I know that even on the days I’ve felt most abandoned,

He’s been there.

Lifting me back up.

Life is tough and there are times when it lets me down.

But He never does.

Months pass by and seasons change.

But He never does.

Rain falls and mountains move.

But He never does.

That’s the message I needed to hear this morning:

I may not know what tomorrow holds,

but I do know this:

 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Heb. 13:8

He’s the one Rock that can’t be moved.

And I’m forever thankful.

(Today’s reading was from Proverbs 27-29 and Ecclesiastes 1 – 12.)