Seasons

     It's that time of year. Most of my friends are either graduating with college degrees, getting married, or their birthing second and third children. I, naturally, am watching all of this occur with mixed feelings as I fight with my college registrar over whether or not I did in fact take BIO 101 and which credits should indeed transfer. I'm sure if my situation was reversed with those of any of my companions, I would feel my circumstances equally inglorious. As it stands, however, the proverbial grass remains greener-- and just beyond my reach-- on the other side.

     Now, if any of my previous posts have been read, it may sound like I'm gearing up for another talk about my/others' expectations for me. I'm not. I'm going to be talking about playing in the dirt. My newest occupation, since I quit my day job, is something I like to call philosophical gardening. Though I thought I was being quite original, I actually found out I was not alone in this practice. My pastor posted on facebook a couple of days ago, "Break up the fallow ground, break it up" with the explanation that he'd been working in his garden and God had brought that verse to his mind. Consequently, he'd been meditating on it. The funny part was, I shared that experience not a day later before ever reading his post.

     The main theme I've been dwelling on though is the seasons of life. The preacher in Ecclesiastes describes it thus (Ecc. 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.

     While the preacher is expressing the futility of life without God, I can only think of the richness of living in Him. He uses these seasons to teach me in the ways I'm ready to learn at the time and to prepare me for what's next. Each "act" in the play brings about new blessings and surprises. Psalm 81:16 speaks of the Lord, referring to His desire that Israel would live a rich life in surrender to Him, "He should have fed them also with the finest of the wheat: and with honey out of the rock should I have satisfied thee."

      My own season is not marriage and children and a career. Maybe it will be, someday. Right now, it's for me to battle the registrar, plant the odd garden, but above all  and in all to seek Him. That's the honey out of the Rock, and it is very sweet.