1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity
under heaven:

2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to
build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to
dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time
to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to
refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give
up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

~ Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Sound familiar, anyone? It's more than song from the sixties--and much older. It's timeless wisdom, just like the rest of the Good Book. The remainder of that chapter in particular is quite beautiful, but the verses I wrote have been coming to mind quite often lately. By way of explanation, let me paste a portion of an e-mail I just wrote to my dearest Uncle Scott:

I’m packing up and moving in with the folks tomorrow afternoon. Last night Kate and I sat on the couch and took turns holding 2-week-old Corbin while watching the season finale of "Grey’s Anatomy". Sometime during those two hours I realized the closeness that’s developed over the last 4 years and how much I’m going to miss her. I’ve been so excited at the prospect of moving that the thought of missing the Policani’s hasn’t even crossed my mind. The truth is, I’m going to miss Kate, Marc, the kids, and even the gals that moved out long ago. Four years can hold a lot more memories than I might have previously believed. Besides the Policani’s, I haven’t lived in the same place for more than a year since I moved out at age 18. Now I’m 29 and moving back home—kinda trippy huh? Once people realize that it’s not for the purpose of saving money they often ask why and my answer is always the same: It’s just time. “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven.” I feel like God is calling me to this, so although on the outside it seems like a trivial, common-sense decision, for me it goes much deeper.

On a totally unrelated note, we have a three-day weekend coming up to celebrate Memorial Day. I have no special plans, not yet anyway. I'm hearing varying reports about the weather so we shall see if it merits a walk or a barbecue. Tomorrow I'm a lucky gal: Sheryl called and offered to help me pack up, so she'll be at my house in the morning. At 2pm I'm meeting some ladies from community group for waffles in the U-District, and the folks will be by at 4pm to pick up the bigger furniture and I'll be whisked away from Shoreline. Mercer Island will once again be home. It's so hard-hitting to move from one city to another--how did I ever manage to gallivant around the globe? Seattle will always be home: My gorgeous, lovely, rainy city.

2:30 PM |