“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what 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 seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, 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 for war, and a time for peace.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 ESV
Every morning now, I open the back sliding door. Like a chef waving his hand over the skillet to invite the aroma upward, I invite the changing season in.
I step out and feel the change on my bare feet. The flowers drying to brittle fragile brown while others are vibrant still.
I read this morning about “Shalom”, an invitation to seeking peace.
Shalom, a greeting or a farewell in ancient days, “Peace”.
It’s a thing I can’t fully understand, how peace was established for us and how we’re supposed to believe it, cling to it, trust it
When it makes no sense.
The page in my Psalms and Proverbs book has faded names from a decade ago.
“Ginny”, a mama whose teenage son died by suicide. I wonder now how she and her husband are doing. If they’ve found moments of peace.
I woke to see that a friend has suffered the loss of a grandchild.
Nothing to do, but pray.
Pray for peace in unfathomably sad things.
Prayer comforts. It was long established for us, the way to peace, the place to seek.
A quiet room, standing still with the changing grass cushioning bare feet or with a friend with Jesus too, holding hands, being held.
“Honor me by trusting in me in your day of trouble. Cry aloud to me, and I will be there to rescue you.”
Psalms 50:15 TPT
Continue and believe.