Timing Is Everything

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:²a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;³a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;⁴a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;⁵a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;⁶a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away;⁷a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;⁸a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.⁹" - Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I'll be honest -- I hate it when people say things to me about being in the moment.  I know they're right, of course.  Life can only be lived where I am -- or you are -- right now.  Which only means that when they say it and it makes me mad, I have an inkling that there are too many moments I would prefer to avoid. 

Maybe the moment is one in which it is time to laugh, but I'd rather cry.  Maybe it's time to throw stones away, and I'd rather gather them.  Tear when it's time to sew.  Hate when it's time to love. 

I am in the moment, because, where else can I be?  But I'm out of sync.  I'm like a time traveller, or one of those science fiction heros stuck in another dimension.  The world seems to be moving too fast.  Or maybe I'm too slow.  Anyway, there's a mismatch.  And I would prefer that the world would accommodate me.  In an either/or world, the world serves me up either, and I find myself preferring or.

Then this brings me up short:

"But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day."  - 2 Peter 3:8

A lot can happen in a thousand years:  Planting and harvesting.  Breaking down and building up.  Mourning and dancing. 

It can happen in one day. 

Maybe it can happen in one moment.  Maybe in this moment. 

Can the time to be born hold within it it too the time to die?  Does the time for killing encompass the time for healing? 

Within the silence, is there someone speaking?