Oh, The Seasons, They Are Ever Changing! (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NKJV)

1

To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven:

2

A time]to be born,

And a time to die;

A time to plant,

And a time to pluck what is planted;

3

A time to kill,

And a time to heal;

A time to break down,

And a time to build up;

4

A time to weep,

And a time to laugh;

A time to mourn,

And a time to dance;

5

A time to cast away stones,

And a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace,

And a time to refrain from embracing;

6

A time to gain,

And a time to lose;

A time to keep,

And a time to throw away;

7

A time to tear,

And a time to sew;

A time to keep silence,

And a time to speak;

8

A time to love,

And a time to hate;

A time of war,

And a time of peace.

1. To everything there is a season,

My brain is a curious thing even to me. It jumps around like the squirrels in my backyard. (Maybe that is why I find them fascinating to watch. See, there I did it again. Chased one!) I write this because I hope it helps you to appreciate the randomness of my posts. I feel the need to follow the path my brain chooses to take each day….actually moment! I have learned that it is useless to fight it. So, I am learning to embrace it and go with it. Actually, that is one of the many reasons for the title of this site….A Woman (With) Out A Plan! So, hope you can follow my randomness and find a way to be picking up what my brain decides to be throwing down!

A time for every purpose under heaven:

I do believe that there is a time and purpose for everything under the sun. It has taken a significant amount of time and a boat load of therapy but I now realize that God allows EVERYTHING for a reason. Notice I did not write that everything happens for a reason. I changed the wording because I do not believe things just happen randomly. I believe that God is in control and knows exactly how to weave the events of our lives to make for a beautiful, often very broken and twisted, story.

2 A time to be born,

“Wake up! Come on, I need you to wake up!”

I hear shuffling and then on the other side of the room I hear her again, “Come on, I need you to wake up.”

She carries me out to the couch where I see my baby brother propped up, asleep. As soon as I am placed on the couch, I join him in sleep. "Wake Up! Please, I need you to wake up!" I can hear her pleading with us to stay awake but I just can’t.

The door slams. We all jump wide awake. He is home. He is mad. He is yelling and she is panicking. What is happening? Why is he mad? What did we do? She is pleading with him but there is no use. I just sit there frozen…...too afraid to move or make a sound.

Just as quickly as it started, it is over. We are carried back to our beds.

The next morning I awoke wondering if the recollection was just a dream. As I joined my siblings at the table and she served us our breakfast I can see that it was not a nightmare.

But, in what became a pattern, we went about our day as if nothing happened and never talked of it.

I was born in a little town called Dysfunction Junction. Oh, I suspect some of you laughed at that one but I also suspect many of you reading this were born there too! We could probably recognize each other pretty quickly. Not by our facial features or the normal identifying factors but from a quick yet deep look into each other's eyes. The eyes, of course, are a window into the soul. We can hide a lot by 'acting’ like everything is okay but a true look into someone's eyes can tell a world of stories.

My father was born and raised in a deep hollow in the Appalachian mountains of Kentucky. He was one of many siblings raised in extreme poverty. His father and several siblings were coal miners and their father died of black lung. My father seldom talked about his childhood but I listened intently on the rare occasion he and his siblings talked about it. It was always very clear that their lives were extremely difficult.

For many years I told myself that due to the above reasons, my father did the best he could. I told myself that he was a better parent to his children than he had experienced so he had done well. I convinced myself that I would be a better parent than he was and determined to do so by sheer will power.

Well, you can guess how that turned out! Stay tuned for my next edition of how (not) to live your life!