| Current mood: |  peaceful |
| Current music: | When You Believe |
For everything its season, and for every activity under heaven its time:
a time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to uproot;
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 for mourning and a time for dancing;
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them;
a time to embrace and a time to abstain from embracing;
a time to seek and a time to lose;
a time to keep and a time to discard;
a time to tear and a time to mend;
a time for silence and a time for speech;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 8 (Revised English Bible)
Always the simple is the most profound. Of course, there is a time for everything. Except in the busy-ness of our lives we forget that where time is not allowed, it will be taken.
"For everything its season, and for every activity under heaven its time" The list that follows covers much but not everything. Every activity under heaven - so far reaching.
Now is a season of loss for me - it is a time to clear things out, to kill what should not have life within me, to discard that which clutters, to tear down structures that are inappropriate to what they attempt to house, to break down walls that keep me from where I want to be.
It is a season of mourning the necessary losses.
Once upon a time, I went deep inside my soul and created the garden of my salvation. In that garden I recognized my strength and my passion. From that garden, I went into my psche and uncovered the damage that had been inflicted upon me when I was innocent. In that garden I waged war and eventually found peace with my god. It was good.
From that garden, I flew into the landscape of my spirit and found an arid land. In that barreness I created an oasis for my soul so it could dwell in comfort with my spirit. I built a house high upon a tower, away from the dry parched land. I poured my love into that house and created a place of belonging. It was good.
As my soul and spirit merged together, they expanded and the barren land began to germinate. The outer reaches of my spirit became verdant and lush. Seeing this blossoming around me, I ventured into places I had never been and found that gentleness and kindness were still mine to claim. It was good.
For a long time, my soul found belonging in the structures of my spirit. When the structures began to decay, I mistook the erosion as damage to my soul. In my panic, I held on to things that needed to be discarded. It is time to return to the garden. It is time to gather up my strength and my passion. It is time to face unflinchingly more of the harm done to me when I was innocent. It is time to once more wage war upon my god. Eventually my god will lift me up and look upon me and there will be peace.
From the garden, a journey of destruction must begin. The house will be torn down. It has to be. The house is overcrowded and the walls are crumbling. The roof no longer holds the weight of what must rest upon it.
A fire must be set in the forest. It is overgrown and too much new growth is unable to get sunlight through the trees. Too much has been taken out of it and the soil has to be renewed from the ashes of the fire.
It really is well with my soul. From there, everything is possible.
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