To everything, there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to eat chocolate, a time to eat greens. A time to float the river, a time to cut hay. A time to blame, a time to own up. A time to back away, a time to give it your all. A time to dig and a time to refrain from digging.
Reader, please provide your own examples of holding on or letting go. C’mon. You know:
But what’s the use? You grow up. You grow old. Your carefully arranged treasures will be donated or dumped. The shrubs will be misunderstood, and the thistles will return. The stove will backdraft, the colors will run. You’re on your own, and the cards are stacked against you. You are not different than the beasts of the field. And as beasts die, so will you.
Reader, please provide three (only three) examples of your existential despair:
You’re a phony, a caricature of sincerity, a grumbler, a whiner, a blamer. You’re a striver after the sun. You’ve lied, stolen things, and lusted after fame and fortune. You’ve coveted and secretly rejoiced at someone else’s misfortune. You build bad fences. Everyone should be on your side. They’re not. You repeatedly make the same stubborn mistakes, and you’re as vain as anyone you know. It’s all vanity. All of it. This might be a good thing. Might not.
Reader, please cheerfully list three of your own moral shortcomings:
At night, you rehash failings and exaggerate the dreadful demands of the coming day. You toss and turn, sweating through self-inflicted anxieties. You torture yourself with blame, fear, and discontentedness. You wish you had control of your mind. You wish you believed in magic. Finally, as you imagine walking the plank, you fall asleep. But then you have to pee.
Reader, please provide all the reasons everyone should party late into the night:
In the meantime, what’s the harm in trying? What’s the harm in resting? What’s the harm in hoping? What’s the harm in keeping your nose clean and your heart open? Sure, you haven’t gotten it all right, and you never will. You’re far from flawless or erudite. Things rarely work out entirely as you’d planned. Wisdom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Now is the time to sigh and say “Ah, what the hell.” And the Teacher nods and says, “Seriously, what the hell?”
Reader, please shrug and provide your own what the hells. As many as you’d like:
Good work, dear one. It’s time for ice cream. Or not. Next week, Revelations.
Short visits with an honest God 
I don’t tell you enough how much I enjoy your work. May I add as a reader my sigh and a ‘What the Hell’, too. Thank you and write on!
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Hey, Pappy53, you may add all the ‘What the Hells’ you’d like. There’s no limit. In fact, there’s a two-for-one special offer right now. Keep learning, living, breathing, and what-the-helling because…well…you know. Thanks!!
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That pretty much covers it !!
But, what does the Lord require of us ?
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Fear is overrated and the clearest “commandment” is love. We’re not good at it, but we’re all trying the best we can :).
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A time to diet, a time to stop
A time to make yourself look better, a time to go natural
A time to plan, a time to just let go
Despair
Who will want my collection of turtle figures?
One day my beloved home will belong to a stranger.
All my family photos will be meaningless some day.
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Exactly. And yet for now, for today, for this moment, it all means something. It all matters. And we have a chance to express this and rejoice. If we feel like it :).
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I’m going up in the mountains the rest of the week. But I keep thinking we would enjoy a cuppa together, and I’ll come to zoo. My days are incredibly open!! You’ve got my email. Every paragraph brought a little hum to my chest! Stay cool!
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Hey Star, may the mountains fold you into a cool, refreshing place. They are lucky to have a visit from you :). We’re not in the Zoo much these days. Mostly on the Stillwater River–a wonderful place to be, but a long drive from the Bitterroot. Let’s keep in touch, and maybe in the comings and goings, we can find time to hang out. Thanks for your ongoing care and support.
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