Some Seasons are Harder than Others

I thank my God always concerning the grace of God which was given to me by Christ Jesus, that I am enriched in everything by Him in all utterance and all knowledge, even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in me, so that I come short in no gift, eagerly waiting for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will also confirm me to the end, that I may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom I am called into the fellowship of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. [1Corinthians 1:4-9] 

I have often read Solomon’s words: To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot 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; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to gain, 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 of war, and a time of peace. [Ecclesiastes 3:1-8] In March these words hit me harder than most since I am near another year with the knowledge I lost my son Philip the night before my birthday and a few weeks after his 21st birthday. I understand life goes on and I know that most people have forgotten and lived, but for me and my family, it is still a very difficult time. I often wake up to the recurring nightmare of finding him dead in my office. 2020 was a hard year, not just for me but for so many others. So much loss was felt and so much fear would enter our world. We learned just how vulnerable we are. Slowly most of us have learned to breathe again, live again and even some have learned to enjoy life again. I try not to take for granted the blessings. My grandchildren, my children, my wife, my extended family, my friends, my job, but most of all my hope. My hope is what gets me through all the seasons whether good, bad, or blah. My hope rests in that this life is but for a moment and my real life is eternal. I can only imagine the loss that Mary and the disciples felt as they saw Christ die on the cross. I would love to have witnessed the reborn hope of Christ’s resurrection or feel the breath of the tongues of fire that came over all of them in the upper room. Each year we celebrate the oxymoron of Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. Many celebrate foot washing or communion to remember. No matter the season, hold onto the Comforter who lives with us walks with us, and speaks to us each day. Count your blessings and keep your hope burning for the day we begin eternity. In Jesus’ name, Amen.