Ecclesiastes

museum with chrissie

I am in a thoughtful mood today and I should be.

I had another birthday recently and I turned 49. You can never know what a year will hold and for me, the last twelve months held three unexpected funerals and my daughter’s engagement. And for added poignancy, by turning 49 I have now outlived a parent.

I believe that one of the characteristics of the careful life we read about in Ephesians 5 is that it is a reflective life. That is because some moments are more important than others.

In Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 it says, ‘It is better to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting because that is where will all end up someday.’

This might seem a very strange thought. I can think of quite a few things I would rather do than hang out at funerals! But there is so much truth here. Funerals remind us that life is very precious and short and if we allow them they will recalibrate our priorities. The reality of death turns our eyes upward to things that are eternal and reminds us that so much of what we worry about really doesn’t matter in the long run.

Equally, milestones in our children’s lives are opportunities for gratefulness and appreciation. The bittersweet feeling of marrying off your daughter or taking your child to school for the first time reminds us to enjoy each stage of parenting and not to wish it away. It gives moms (and dads!) an opportunity to let go a little more and to move into the next season with a new level of trust in God.

In the Old Testament, we see how the children of Israel built altars to remind them of significant things God did for them. We can do the same. When something significant happens in our lives we can take the opportunity to reflect and learn.

Our model for this is in the Psalms where we see David pouring out his disappointment and hurt in the presence of God.

Very often, within the next few verses, we see him move from despair to hope again as He is ministered to by God’s presence and God’s truth.

David shows us that we were never created to live in a state of confusion or bewilderment. These times of struggle are meant to be temporary teachers.

When big events happen to us, whether happy or sad, we can safely process them in His presence and in the light of the truth of His Word.

Then we can somewhere, somehow build an altar.

The altars I build are pages of journals filled with pencil and pen scribbles that remind me of things I have learned in dark times and in bright, happy ones. I record verses that have sustained me, words I receive from the Lord as well as my prayers and thoughts. They are my own kind of Psalms as I have journeyed from despair to joy over and over again.

Think about ways that you can create altars of remembrance to God’s faithfulness.

If writing isn’t your thing, scrapbooks with sketches and verses or photographs with dates and thoughts added are both beautiful ways to remember desert manna.

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Bulletin boards, notebooks and artwork can all be ways to collect personal revelation before it blows away.

Living carefully means recognizing significant moments in our lives, seeing the lessons in them, recording God’s faithfulness and moving on in His grace.

handlettering praise

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I love Ecclesiastes 3.11. In the middle of Solomon’s downbeat sermon is this verse of scripture.

‘He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.’

We can’t know or understand all of God’s purposes. His ways are high above ours. There are parts of our stories that have left us bemused at best and there are many experiences that will not make sense to us in this life.

But there are some things we do understand because He has put eternity in our hearts. We know there is more than just this life and that heaven is infinitely more real than the desk I am sitting at or the computer keyboard I type on.

We know, but we forget.

We forget that this life, however wonderful it is, cannot satisfy. We forget and then we wonder why we feel restless. We wonder why in the wake of the most perfect occasions or celebrations we can feel flat and empty again and why our happiest experiences are often tinged bittersweet.

C S Lewis says it like this, ‘If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.’

Restlessness is a gift. It reminds us of who we are.

Ephesians 5.8 tells us we are children of light. In the Amplified Bible it says we are to lead the lives of those native-born to light.’

This is our identity. As new creations, we are from light and of light and light is where we belong.

Philippians 2.15 says that when we live like Jesus calls us to, we shine like stars.

Stars are not of this world. We see them, we admire their beauty and they feel close but they are from somewhere else, somewhere very far away.

And so it is for us. We are here, shining as lights, living our lives, following Jesus on earth. But our light is from somewhere heavenly, somewhere eternal. We are not of this world and so it will never quite feel like home.

Never forget who you are. Live this life well but live it as a visitor. You were created for so much more than this so be restless, be discontent with everything this world offers. Only Jesus, His life and His purposes, will satisfy.