There are some days in life that I’m not sure what to do with or where to put them. In processing what has occurred, trying to find the meaning in it all can be a mind-busting challenge – much like writer’s block. The data is there, but it simply refuses to be expressed in rational expression. The proverbial highway is open ahead, but I can’t manage to take a step forward.
On days like these I’m reminded of the ancient words of a very wise man, which at one level ring so true to experience, while at another are aggravatingly ambiguous.
1For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
2a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
– Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
On days like these, I guess the question is: what time is it?