Posted in Devotionals

A season for every matter (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

Time

 

If time machine now exists I won’t wonder why the inventor would become a millionaire in a day. Time is everything and there is always a time for everything.

There is a time to laugh and a time to weep, a time to love and hate, to begin and end, to live and die. Every second counts therefore we should spend it wisely. Never should we allow to waste any minute of the precious life that God has given us.

We love to complain even just for petty things. We dislike change and we are so busy hating life when some people out there are breathing their last praying for a longer existence.

Enjoy each season of life for when it comes to pass, it will never be returned. Make the most out of your experiences may it be good or bad. Let us spend every God given day as if it is our last. Pronounce the right words to say and do the things that are opt to be done.

Ponder…

A young man learns what’s most important in life  from the guy next  door. It had been some time since Jack had seen the  old man.

 College, girls, career, and life itself got in the  way. In fact,  Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of  his dreams. There,  in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time  to think about  the past and often no time to spend with his wife  and son. He was  working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
 
 Over the phone, his mother told him, ‘Mr Belser died  last night. The  funeral is Wednesday.’ Memories flashed through his  mind like an old  newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood  days.
 
 ‘Jack, did you hear me?’
 
 ‘Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long  since I thought  of him. I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died  years ago,’ Jack  said.
 
 ‘Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him  he’d ask how you  were doing. He’d reminisce about the many days you  spent over ‘his  side of the fence’ as he put it,’ Mom told him.
 
 ‘I loved that old house he lived in,’ Jack said.
 
 ‘You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man’s influence in your life,’ she said.
 
 ‘He’s the one who taught me carpentry,’ he said. ‘I  wouldn’t be in this business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot  of time teaching  me things he thought were important…Mom, I’ll be  there for the  funeral,’ Jack said.
 
 As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the  next flight to  his hometown. Mr. Belser’s funeral was small and  uneventful. He had  no children of his own, and most of his relatives  had passed away. 
 
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his  Mom stopped by  to see the old house next door one more time.
 
 Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment.
 It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through  space and time.
 
 The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories.
 Every picture, every piece of furniture….Jack  stopped suddenly.
 
 ‘What’s wrong, Jack?’ his Mom asked.
‘The box is gone,’ he said.>
 ‘What box?’ Mom asked.
 
 ‘There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk.
 I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d  ever tell me was ‘the thing I value most,’ Jack  said.
 
 It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured  someone from the Belser family had taken it.
 
 ‘Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,’
 Jack said. ‘I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home,  Mom.’

 It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died.
Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his  mailbox. ‘Signature  required on a package. No one at home. Please stop  by the main post  office within the next three days,’ the note read.
 
 Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The  small box was old  and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years  ago. The  handwriting was difficult to read, but the return  address caught his  attention.
 
 ‘Mr. Harold Belser’ it read.
 
 Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the  package There  inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack’s hands shook as he read the note inside.
 
 ‘Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack  Bennett. It’s the thing I valued most in my life.’ A  small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he  found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
 
 Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched  casing, he  unlatched the cover.
 
 Inside he found these words engraved:
 
 ‘Jack, Thanks for your time!  -Harold Belser.’
 
 ‘The thing he valued most…was…my time.’
 
 Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days.
 ‘Why?’ Janet, his assistant asked.
 
 ‘I need some time to spend with my son,’ he said.
 ‘Oh, by the way, Janet…thanks for your time!’
 
 ‘ife is not measured by the number of breaths we  take but by the  moments that take our breath away..

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2 thoughts on “A season for every matter (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

  1. Thank you for the post. You have summarized Kohelet’s thoughts well. Even thought he encourages us to embrace our work and do it with all our might, he always acknowledges that we do that for the adventure and not to get ahead. “One handful with rest is better than two handfuls with toil and chasing after the wind.”
    As he gets to the end of the book, Kohelet (the author of Ecclesiastes) says “Life is sweet, and it is a pleasure to see the light of day. No matter how many days a person may live, each one should be fully enjoyed, for darker days, days of futility will come. So be happy when you are young and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth.”
    Hope you have a Kohelet sort of day.

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