“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1
Are you still looking, still watching, still waiting for a sign – a confirmation there is more than all we see? It feels more days should have passed between the loss of God, and the possibility of a comeback. It doesn’t seem very realistic to recover from the depth of mourning triggered by the belief that God is dead and the joy, triumph, and celebration promoted at Easter.
When would you start envisioning a future after experiencing the effects of injustice, oppression, and abuse? When would you commence rebuilding a life after being stripped of every title, status, and position. When would you begin to believe again after losing your source of hope, joy, and purpose?
Currently, I’m curious how the meaning of this mysterious message has been distorted by my 2020 lens? I’m wondering what to do with slow moving emotions unmoved by an ancient text presented so factually, definitively, “scientifically”? I’m questioning how long the magnitude of the death I’ve known will consume the potential of rising again?