I assisted at the last Lap Club today. Summer is nearly upon us. The school year has almost wound itself down, a 180-day clock set in motion every Labor Day.
I’m a little sad. Second grade and 9th grade will never be for Ruby or Zac again. I’m looking forward to summer and slower-paced days, lazing in the sun. I’m thinking about running in the sprinkler, possibly hiking. Not at the same time.
I’m also thinking about how I’m unwilling to force things anymore. I’m learning to ebb and flow in friendships. I’m getting the drift of letting go and being in the moment. I don’t have to be in control or make things happen.
For everything there is a season,
a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet 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
(Got the old song in your head now, dontcha?) Honestly, never been a huge fan of the wisdom books. Does this mean I lack wisdom? Probably. I guess I’ve always found them rather dull and boring.
Seasons in our natural world don’t wait on our permission in order to change. “Fall, I’m not quite ready for you yet. Gotta get those new boots before the rain sets in. Can you wait a week?” “Sure thing, Susan. I got all year.” No. The seasons were set in place at the creation of the earth. I can’t hurry spring along, either. Seasons come and go at the Father’s bidding.
But I’m finding this scripture from Ecclesiastes applying to my life more and more. If we truly belong to Christ and submit to his reign in our lives, we don’t get to choose the season we find ourselves in. You know what? There’s peace in the surrender. I can rest in His hands, knowing He’s got it under control. Yes, I pray when things get squishy. But anxiety and twisting and pushing accomplish nothing. I’ve learned this the hard way. Ask my husband. Talk to my kids. They’ll tell you. I still struggle with this sometimes. Why don’t you do it my way, Lord?!
The root issue is trust. Will I let God bring the flower to bloom in His timing? He will water and fertilize, cultivate and shelter. The blossoming might not meet my deadline. It always meets His.