Seasons Omitted in Ecclesiastes

A time for doing things right, and a time for screwing stuff up.

I was chatting with one of my favorite girlfriends the other day, and I realized that I find huge comfort in the reassurance that there is a season for everything. It makes me feel like less of an ass when I screw up (because I think there's a season for that, too). In the middle of the night, when visions of things that could have been handled better dance in my head, they don't have to eclipse the good parts of the day.

And then this morning I was stuck with gratitude when I realized how often I don't know which season is which at the time. In restrospect, I can see the strengths in the weaknesses. I came awfully close to not graduating from college because I loved to listen to wonderful people talk about the things that mattered to them. Now, at the time that stunk, but I can see whispers of vocation in it now. I spent more recesses than I could count reading in a quiet spot-- but I still love reading and learning. I've felt frustrated by jobs where procedural details came before people-- and so I finally learned to respect that about myself. I've been swept away by excitement and affection instead of being cool, but I'm beginning to be proud of being able to love people.

If we can just be gentle, there's so much to learn from the other side of the coin.