Let's Talk Time- Ecclesiastes 3

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…”

— Ecclesiastes 3:1

Before a flower ever rises to meet the sun, its roots endure, break, and forge a beautiful story in the holy dark.

Author’s Note: The Heart Behind the Words

Every word I chose in this quote carries a piece of the journey — the unseen struggle, the quiet endurance, and the sacred beauty of becoming.

• “endure” — honors the quiet strength it takes to stay rooted through long, unseen seasons.

• “break” — acknowledges that true growth often requires a breaking — a surrender that feels like loss but leads to life.

• “forge” — speaks to the hard, refining work that shapes strength deep below the surface.

• “beautiful story” — reminds us that even pain writes a narrative full of worth, depth, and unseen glory.

• “holy dark” — frames the darkness not as emptiness, but as sacred — a divine, necessary part of the blooming.

The roots endure.

The roots break.

The roots forge.

And in time, the flower rises — not in spite of the darkness, but because of it.

There are days when it feels like time

is your enemy.

When the ache stretches longer than you thought you could endure.

When the hours mock your hope, and the nights feel endless.

When healing seems like a myth whispered to other people but withheld from you.

But Ecclesiastes 3 tells a different story.

A truer story.

A story written by the Author of time itself — who cradles every second, every tear, every sacred, hidden moment of your becoming.

There is a time to mourn — and He sits with you there.

There is a time to heal — and He breathes life into your dry bones.

There is a time to build again — and He steadies your trembling hands.

Time is not your enemy.

Time is the gentle hand of God, pulling you from the ruins and remaking you into something more whole, more beautiful, more alive than you ever dared to imagine.

Grief Has Its Appointed Season — And It is Holy

Grief is not a detour.

It is a valley carved deep with meaning.

A place where love is honored, where losses are named aloud, and where wounds are seen and touched by the only Hands capable of healing them.

You are not broken because you cry.

You are not failing because the memories still sting.

There is a time to mourn — and mourning is sacred.

Let your tears fall freely.

Let your heart break open in His presence.

It is not wasted. None of it is wasted.

Your grief is holy ground.

Healing Will Come — Like Rain After a Long Drought

You won’t notice the first moment it happens.

Maybe one day, you’ll laugh at something small.

Maybe you’ll catch yourself breathing without heaviness.

Maybe you’ll wake up and, for a split second, the ache won’t be the first thing you feel.

Healing does not roar into the soul.

It drips.

It seeps.

It grows quietly in the places you thought were dead.

“A time to heal…” — and you will.

Not because you tried hard enough.

Not because you forced yourself to “move on.”

But because God — who makes everything beautiful in its time — is still at work in you.

Even here.

Even now.

You Were Never Meant to Master the Seasons

You can’t hurry the sunrise.

You can’t command the winter to end.

And you cannot force your heart to heal faster than it needs to.

You were never meant to master the seasons.

You were only meant to walk through them — hand in hand with the One who holds eternity.

Surrender the timeline you built in your mind.

Surrender the guilt for still hurting.

Surrender the false belief that you should “be further along” by now.

You are exactly where you are supposed to be: in the middle of a season that is shaping you in ways you can’t yet see.

Everything Will Be Beautiful — Even This

You may not believe it yet.

You may not feel it yet.

But Ecclesiastes promises:

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Not just the easy seasons.

Not just the bright ones.

The dark nights will be woven into a tapestry of strength.

The tears will be counted as treasures in His hands.

The empty spaces will be filled with a joy deeper than the laughter you knew before.

Nothing is wasted.

No brokenness is beyond His ability to redeem.

No wound is too deep for His healing.

Everything — everything — will be made beautiful.

Even the things you thought would destroy you.

Especially those things.

A Final Whisper to the Aching Soul:

You, reading this with a cracked and bleeding heart —

you are not alone.

You are not forgotten.

You are not too broken to be made whole again.

Your season of mourning is not a grave.

It is a garden — one you will one day walk through with new breath in your lungs and new light in your eyes.

Take your time.

Honor your grief.

Let yourself be exactly where you are without shame.

And when you feel weak, remember:

It is not your strength that will carry you through.

It is His.

Hold on, dear soul.

Healing is already at work within you.

It will be beautiful.

In its time.

In His time.

Always.