Ecclesiastes 3 :1-2
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;
He came sweeping in
Silent and graceful
Dark and slightly ominous
He sighed a heavy sigh and dug in his heels.
He sensed it was going to be a long fight.
Such a thankless job was his.
He was hardly ever welcomed anywhere he went.
No fanfare. No red carpets.
He didn’t understand why he was always perceived as the enemy.
Maybe it was the black uniform. Maybe it was the sharp scythe.
He rather fancied himself a kind friend, a welcome relief, even a loving presence.
Why sometimes he could be downright warm and fuzzy.
He could be whimsical too: a melody, a sweet song during a sleepless night,
a playful wind dancer twirling in the breeze.
Why did people oppose him so? Why did they fight so valiantly a battle already lost?
Why did they not just let go and trust the process for a soft landing?
He sighed and dug in his heels. Yep. It was going to be a long one.
copyright 2011 L.S.B.
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