A Time For Everything

 

Dear Hearts,

I would much prefer to think on the happy things this life and time of year gives us, to focus on the blessings, the joys. But I have also written about how the day does come when things written long ago finally do come to be. There is a time for everything.

I have noticed the variety of approaches to what is happening by those who have ways in which to speak, either in the written word or videos. It seems some are appointed to say uplifting words that give hope, which, of course, is sorely needed in times of stress. There are also those who are burdened to speak out and, in fact, take great risks in doing so. I like to think of myself as being somewhere in the middle ground. A giver of hope as well as a giver of sight. 

I am, by nature, one who looks up and out and can find hope in what often seems hopeless. But I am also a pragmatist and I can't not say what I am now tasked to say. It seems time is speeding up. 

Years ago I once wrote about my affection for traditional holidays like Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving, in my I Was Just Thinking column. I mostly go mushy and wax philosophical on those kinds of topics. In my reminiscing I shared that, due to the age factor, I have had a plethora of lovely, happy, joyful, holiday experiences but the ones that seem to stand out in my memory are the not so fun ones. All the best ones are now blurred together into a single warm fuzzy haze. So, it's the not happy ones that stand out on their own for reflecting upon, it's usually the ones offering up some kind of lesson to be learned.

Maybe that's the reason, then, for having better recollection of the challenging times in our lives. They are the sometimes harsh opportunities for gaining perspective. and/or wisdom that carries us forward better armed to deal with what life dishes out. 

I've also written about the reality that humans are not good at discernment turned to gratitude unless there is a contrast or something to compare something else against in order to see more wisely. 

We need to feel real hunger to appreciate having a scrap of bread.

We need to experience being freezing cold to be thankful for an old worn out  blanket.

We need to have everything taken from us to realize how good it was having anything we wanted when we wanted it.

We have to be told we can't go anywhere or do anything without proving we are willing to give up our personal/physical rights and/or religious beliefs, or the freedom to buy or sell or earn a living before we grieve over the loss of those basic rights we so took for granted. 

I look forward to this holiday season, 2021, because my practical self suspects it might be the last one I will be able to add to my warm fuzzy collection. I do not see things continuing as they are without a major change that calls us to be braver than we have ever been asked to be, willing to be challenged to stand without wavering. Our mettle tested to it's limits.

I can hear a faint but urgent call to choose Who we will follow, Who we trust.  

While it is still in the gray area of okay, I, for one, give thanks, in this calm before the storm, for the right to choose the One Whom I will serve and claim it out loud without fear of being canceled, condemned or imprisoned. 

For Him,

Meema

Michael Boldea is one who is tasked with speaking out and he is well worth paying attention to:

Bondage