Nobody Gets To Set The Date

Somebody said a month to you in June.

Not directly. They said something like, after the first year it gets easier, or they mentioned somebody else who had done it around the eighteen month mark.

And you nodded, and the conversation moved on, and a number went into you that has not come out.

That is how these arrive. Nobody hands you a deadline in an envelope. It comes in sideways, in a comparison, in a kind remark about somebody else, and it lodges, and then it starts counting.

And now you are aware of being measured. Not by anybody in particular. By an accumulation of remarks from about nine different people, none of whom are in contact with each other, all of whom love you.

So here is where you are. You are grieving, and you are also monitoring your own progress against a schedule assembled by committee from people who were trying to comfort you.

That second job is exhausting and it is not helping, and I want to take it off you today.

Let me start with the only schedule that actually appears anywhere in scripture about this.

A time to mourn

There is a list in Ecclesiastes everybody knows, and there is a line in it that gets read past because it is so obvious.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. (Ecclesiastes 3:4, King James Version)

A time to mourn. It is in the list, alongside everything else, with equal weight and no asterisk.

And here is what it does not have: a duration. There is no clause about how long the mourning time runs, no comparison with anybody else's, and no indication that it can be entered into wrongly or exited late.

You are inside a time the text names and never times, and the mourning has never once come with a number attached. The Holy Spirit is the one present with a man who took a number in through a kind remark in June, and Ecclesiastes 3:4 names the season and refuses to measure it.

And notice something about the whole chapter.

Every pair in it is about seasons arriving rather than being chosen. A time to weep and a time to laugh. Nobody in that chapter schedules their own seasons, and nobody is graded on the timing of them.

You are in a season rather than on a schedule, and a season has never once been something a person can be late for. The written word lists the times and hands out no calendars, and the Spirit of God is the one who is with a man being measured by nine people who have never met each other.

Where those numbers come from

Here is what is actually happening when somebody says a number to you, and it is worth understanding because it removes the sting.

A person watching grief they cannot fix reaches for a structure. A timescale is a structure. Saying that the second year is easier gives the speaker something to hold, and it is offered to you as comfort and lands as a measurement.

Nobody in that exchange is doing anything wrong. And you are still left holding a number.

You were handed somebody's need for a structure, and it has never once been information about you. The Holy Spirit is the one present with a man who has been quietly counting since June, and Ecclesiastes 3:4 names the time without measuring it.

And here is the cost, which is specific.

You have begun to check yourself. Am I where I should be. Is this normal at this point. And every one of those checks takes a small amount of the strength you need for the actual grief, and the checking produces nothing at all.

You have been spending strength on an audit, and the audit has never once returned anything you could use. The written word gives the mourning its own time and asks no questions of anybody in it, and the Spirit of God is the one who steadies a man doing two jobs where there should only be one.

One door, and no date

So here is today, and there is deliberately no number in it.

Open one door. The room, the wardrobe, the cupboard, whichever one it is.

Look. Close it again.

You are opening something and closing it with nothing decided, and nothing in that has ever once started a clock. The Holy Spirit is the one who is with a man standing at a door with his hand on the handle, and Ecclesiastes 3:4 names a time and leaves it untimed.

And notice what today does not include.

No plan for next week. No first step. No suggestion that this is the beginning of a process, because processes have durations and durations are exactly the thing that has been put on you.

Today is one door, opened and closed, and it means nothing about tomorrow.

You are doing something with no tomorrow attached to it, and nothing today has ever once committed you to anything. The written word puts the season in a list and hands out no schedule, and the Spirit of God is the one present with a man closing a door and going to make a cup of tea.