![]() Then she saw a green, celery-like stem with fragile, transparent blossoms coming out of the ground. She mourned the loss of never being a granny who read to him, baked him cookies, taught him to fish, drank hot chocolate with him under a moonlit sky, or watched her daughter be a mother to him.Īs Alice continued to walk, she longed for a time to heal. Yet his brief life had changed hers forever. ![]() How odd that birth and death could come so close together. As she strolled through the grass, she recalled how her grandson had died just moments after his birth. The past few weeks’ events had touched her soul deeply. That’s what Alice discovered one morning in her backyard as she sought answers and peace. We may never solve the why of “the when.” Yet, like Solomon, we may need to consider there is a time and season for everything, and we are to savor every moment. It left dreams undone, life unlived, words unspoken. We seek answers to our questions but find none. We sift through clues, search for evidence, and examine all of death’s possible motives for seizing our loved one. Like a detective, we feel a desperate need to solve our case, to understand why. It intrudes into our lives and snatches away our loved one. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8ĭeath’s timing is a mystery. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. ![]()
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