Most people are familiar with the words, “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Perhaps they have heard them read in a church, where they would be identified as coming from the third chapter of Ecclesiastes in the Bible. For folks of my generation, it is ever more likely that they would be associated with the words of a song by Pete Seeger made popular by the Byrds in the 1960’s.
Recently I have been really conscious of the changing seasons, of the never ending cycle of life and death. I have seen this phenomenon in nature and I have been very sensitive to it in other parts of my life.
Some of you may have noticed that I have not made a blog posting in several days, after more than a year of posting every day. I have spent the last few days in Massachusetts with my family celebrating the life and mourning the death of one of my younger brothers who died a week ago of lung cancer.
So often we think of growing older with grace and beauty, like the female Great Blue Skimmer dragonfly (Libellula vibrans) pictured below, thinking that we can somehow live forever. In fact, our days are numbered—life is so precious and yet so fragile. Celebrate life and love freely.
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Mike Powell 
Mike I am sorry for your loss. I am glad you were able to join with family and celebrate your brother’s life.
My sincere sympathy to you and your family
Once again, I offer my condolences Mike
Thanks you, Peter. Grieving is fundamentally a very personal and private process. Yet you have shown me by your example that there can be real value in examining the emotions running through us and sharing them publicly with others. Our grief may feel individual and unique and it is, but we are all humans and feelings of pain and loss are universal. We never know when something we say or do will strike a resounding chord with another or may help to reassure them that they are not alone. As John Donne so eloquently put it a long time ago, “No man is an island.”
My condolences for you and your family, Mike. Life is indeed fleeting, and all the more, so precious. Marty.
My condolences to you and your family, sir.
Thank you so much.
Sending you condolences Mike.
My deepest sympathy for your loss Mike. May God’s peace carry you on wings of hope as you travel through this marshland time, and when you can no longer walk this sadness, may he carry you upon his shoulders. Peace to you. Blessings.
So spot on. I often turn to Joyce Hifler’s book To Everything there is a season or All Rivers Run To The Sea for comfort and wisdom. I lost my husband a year ago. Digesting it, and being suddenly single___well. I am doing ok. Best wishes and my condolences to you and your family. Pejj
Thanks so much, Pejj.
I use Hifler’s books to get my blogs going and then add my thoughts to them. What she has written is so timely. I think Amazon or Alibris books would have them. I was also given a title of a book by Micheal A Singer, The Untethered Sould which helped me a lot. I am re-listening to it. Have a great day! Best wishes! P J
Very sorry for your lose Mike.
My condolences to you, Mike, and your dear family. May God give you His comfort and peace.
Blue Rock Horses Frederick County, Virginia bluerockhorses.com
Thanks, Mitzy. There was a closeness with my siblings that I have not felt in quite some time this past weekend. Since my parents died over a decade ago, we have drifted apart a little and this was a time to reconnect and talk about family and share memories.
My condolences, Mike. A sad loss. Sending you and your family blessings as you heal.
Thanks, Eliza. The funeral and associated activities were overwhelmingly positive experiences for us all as we mourned Charlie’s death and celebrated his life together. It is a bit sad that I have reached an age at which funerals are one of the few occasions that bring the whole family together.
❤
I’ve been thinking of you Mike and your family, and loved seeing the pics on fb. You’ve been blessed with many brothers! Thanks for reminding me in this post about times and seasons, there’s something very reassuring in that knowledge. And it follows on very nicely from Bp. Jake’s latest post from which I really liked this part in particular: … And yet Scripture assures us that embracing our mortality is actually the path to wisdom. “So teach us to count our days/ that we may gain a wise heart.” (Psalm 90:12) ~ “teach us to count our days” really spoke to me.. love this phrase! Take care xx
Thanks, Liz. I read Bishop Owensby’s most recent blog posting and was intrigued to see that he and I were thinking of similar things in similar ways. My brother’s death at such a young age (62) really did make me think a lot about my mortality. I couldn’t help but think of the Tim McGraw song, “Live Like You Were Dying.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9TShlMkQnc). Long life is not promised and it strikes me that we should live today like there is no tomorrow. “Man, I loved deeper; And I spoke sweeter; And I watched an eagle as it was flying.”
That’s such a touching, beautiful song with a great message. Thank you Mike!
I am glad you liked it, Liz, and I really relate to the message of the song.
I extend my heartfelt condolences to you and your family. Normally at times like this I quote Elisabeth Kubler-Ross…having attended many seminars and meeting her left an indelible mark in my life. Instead a quote from one of Richard Paul Evans books came to my mind, but having read so many I no longer recall from which it came : “When we bury someone we love, we must also bury a part of our heart. But we must not bemoan this loss. Our hearts, perhaps, are all they can take with them.” As I once again read your post and the comments it occurs to me that indeed there are some of Elisabeth’s words that are equally fitting. “It’s only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth- and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up, we will then begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it is the only one we had.” Thank-you, Mr. Mike!!
Thanks so much for your kind and thoughtful words, Ellen. In one of my church groups when we were all in COVID lockdown last year, we discussed the stages of grief. At that time I was blissfully unaware that I would be going through many of those stages so soon. There was a sense of loss to be sure, but there was such an outpouring of love for my brother that it reassured that Charlie lives on in the hearts and lives of so many. As is often the case, the funeral and the surrounding activities was a chance for me and my siblings to rebond after drifting apart a bit after my parents died more than ten years ago. I hesitated a moment about mentioning my brother’s death in the blog, but I decided to include it, because that was on my heart and mind at the moment I was composing the posting. I recall a funeral I attended several years ago in which the pastor emphasized that we all have an expiration date. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us–all we have is a series of todays.
The loss of a close family member is always an event of great sadness and reflection, but all the more so when that person is younger than oneself.
So true! Live life! Our time here is so short. Appreciating nature, family and friends, this earth is really what is important. My sympathies to you and your family.
Mike, I am so sorry to hear of your loss. My heartfelt sympathy on your brother’s passing. I know the grief. It comes in waves. Some are overwhelming and relentless, particularly at the beginning, but they ease with time. Thinking of you.
Thanks so much, Chris, for your kind and reassuring words. Grief seems to have its own timetable for each individual and I think we experience it in individual ways. My time this weekend with my family, especially with my siblings, was a blessing to me.
My condolences, Mike. It is a shame your brother died so young. You send us a good message about living as best we can for we don’t know when it will be taken from us by time or health.
Thanks, Steve. My brother Charlie was a smoker for much of his adult life, which I am sure was a contributing factor in his lung cancer, but it really is a shame that he died so young. Of the 9 children in my family, we now have lost numbers 6 and number 8–we are certainly not dying in birth order.
Age is only one factor, of course. We live longer than our earliest ancestors because of our intelligence but sometimes that is what fails us when it comes to smoking and diet, taking care of our bodies, and keeping our mental health stable .I remember a long distance runner, Jim Fixx, who led a healthy lifestyle but genetics played a part in his death. As some say, out there somewhere is a bus with your name on it. A favorite songwriter,Dave Carter, who also died of a heart attack while running. He wrote many fine songs as this one seems appropriate for this conversation.There’s no way of knowing when our time will be up.
Thanks, Steve, for your very thoughtful response. As a former marathon runner, I remember Jim Fixx really well. Thanks too for sharing “When I Go”–I am not fixated on death or anything, but I am definitely feeling a sense of my mortality at this moment.
I’ve mentioned a few close calls that I’ve had. I am not sure whether surviving them makes me feel more vulnerable or immortal. 🙂 Probably vulnerable. I’m at the age where I am starting to see people much younger than I in the obits so it’s coming as it is for us all.
I’m with you, Steve, when it comes to noticing the ages of people in the obits. I’ve pretty much given up on the idea that somehow I am immortal, though I am in relatively good health right now. 🙂
Keep it that way, Mike. 🙂
I’ve been thinking how the trees, ferns, and other vegetation in the park are not dying, but rather entering a state of suspended animation, a kind of hibernation, shedding the greenery we love above ground and hunkering down to spend the winter underground, roots entwined, fungal networks strong. Another way to see the autumn changes.
You definitely deserve some time off, Mike. Take as much time as you need. When you come back, we will be here.
Thanks, Nina, for your wise words about the ways of nature. I really like your idea of thinking of autumn and winter as a time of inner growth in ways that may not be obvious on the outside.
Mike, I’m so very sorry to read about your younger brother’s passing. May you and your family find peace as you grieve.
I am sorry for your loss. Thank you for writing
Thanks, Catie.
Very sorry for your loss, Mike. You and your family are in my prayers. Beautiful post today…
[…] To everything there is a season: 134 views, originally published—11 October 2021 […]