tears and laughter
Shattered. I was carrying too many things in my arms while trying to finagle my way into the driver’s side of the Suburban, which by necessity is parked ridiculously close to the side of the garage. My treasured coffee mug became the victim of a scene that would be impossible to reenact if I tried. Juggling my belongings, I successfully opened the door, only for it to suddenly ricochet off the handlebar of my son’s bicycle and slam back into me, effectively stripping my hand of the mug. The mess was atrocious enough, but the loss of my mug—stunning.
Okay, one mug. What’s the deal? I am not typically a sentimental sap about material possessions, but this piece of clay was special. It was given to me by my church when I stepped down from a volunteer position shortly before the birth of Scarlett, my firstborn. The only one of its kind, a local artisan handcrafted it on a pottery wheel, engraved it with my name and that of the church, and then fired it in a kiln. This beautifully glazed piece of pottery represented the new season I was entering as I said goodbye to the old.
After I had picked up the broken pieces, cleaned every surface splattered by coffee, and chided myself for the stupidity of it all, I was finally on my way. Turning the steering wheel sharply left, a thought suddenly struck me regarding the timing of this incident. We were about to celebrate the high school graduation of Scarlett and would soon be launching her into the world. The season of having this brilliant child-turned-stunning-young-woman in my home full-time was swiftly coming to a close. How fitting that my mug would break when it did.
It’s like the Lord was looking down on me and reminding me that there is a time for everything under the sun (Eccl. 3). Even though my favorite mug was decimated, marking the end of an 18 year journey, I would find another in which to pour my coffee. Even though my time mothering Scarlett on the daily is about to end, the Lord will surely provide me other good work that He has prepared in advance (Eph. 2:10).
In a way, I feel like a season is ending, but in reality, I think it would be more accurate to say that it is evolving. Ecclesiastes 3 has always been a favorite chapter of mine, which might have been influenced just a bit by the nostalgic folk rock song, “Turn! Turn! Turn!,” a tune that was frequently played on my parents’ favorite radio station when I was a child.
As an adult, I am grateful for God’s reminder through Solomon’s life experiences that “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens” (Eccl. 3:1) I do not believe it was an accident that the Lord brought these words to mind during a pivotal season of change in the dynamics of our family life. I have recorded the subsequent poetic verses of chapter three below:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
I somehow find myself in a paradoxical season of both tears and laughter, mourning and dancing. It is a time of planting new seeds and uprooting mature plants, a time of silence and deep conversations. In times past, I have experienced one of these seasons singularly. Last fall was a season of grief in which I experienced very little pleasure. In contrast, joy washed over my life in abundance during the months of spring.
The seasons can be like that, can’t they? Interwoven into a confusing tapestry, opposite emotions battling for the high ground in a single day. Or alternatively, one emotion can pervasively dominate a period of weeks, months or even years. Thank God His Word speaks to every point on this spectrum. Each task and emotion has its ordained time, whether abbreviated or far-reaching, and the truth is that “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (v. 11). By these words, we can find strength to persevere and rest assured that the difficulties we endure will ultimately result in beauty.
Solomon continues to teach in vv. 11-12 that the satisfaction we enjoy in the fruit of our work is a gift from the Lord. This theme punctuates the entire book of Ecclesiastes, beginning in chapter two. My own heart is full of joy when I look at the young woman we have raised. The toil of parenting this fascinating creature was, on occasion, extremely hard. There were times when it seemed like everything was being torn down and stones were being scattered, and yet the journey also offered deep satisfaction in the moments of healing, mending, laughing and loving. Today we are reaping the reward of a daughter ready to face the world for the glory of God. Thanks be to Him for grabbing hold of her heart as we stumbled our way through parenting His precious gift. It is with both tears and laughter that we will watch her go, and I will look to the Lord to fill my new mug.
My new mug! A Joshua Tree find. Maybe the next 18 years will be full of hiking the national parks!