Balance or Rhythm by Lorilee Guenter

"By The Book" photo by Bruce Guenter

Balance is a myth created to keep me from embracing the rhythms of life . Ecclesiastes 3:1 opens with "there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens." The list of opposites brings to mind the old playground teeter-totter. If the opposing individuals were similar weight, it was possible to get the teeter-totter to balance as a straight beam. More often the partners couldn't hold the balance due to weight differences. One partner would be pushed up while the other dropped down. The goal of a teeter-totter is to keep it in motion. The achievement of balance halted motion.

Instead of chasing balance, I'm working to create movement, and rhythm. Sometimes the movement is rapid, other times it is a languid motion that takes attention to recognize, like the slow movement through winter. We mark time through seasons, through months, weeks, and days. In some places it may seem like the entire range of weather happens at once. We hear the saying: All four seasons in one week, or one day," yet even during these times we're not experiencing January and July simultaneously. It is either January or it is July.

There's a time and a season for every activity. We are tearing down or we are building up (v.3); we are silent or we are speaking (v.7). If we talk strictly about balance, it lends itself to an absurd reference to ratios. If we speak 50% of the time we should be silent 50% of the time, just like January and July each have 31 days. They hold equal weight within the year. What happens when God calls us to speak up, or write, and we've already used up our 50% of speech for the week? What if a friend, neighbour, or acquaintance needs us to just listen instead of us interjecting our own thoughts. I recognize I've taken these on these to an extreme. No one expects us to count the minutes we speak versus those we are silent. No one tries to live January and July in alternating days. Instead I am learning to lean into a rhythm of seasons. With a rhythm I progress through alternating activity, emotion, responsibility, hopes, and dreams, each in their own time. I learn to give them the space they need. Sometimes I walk through them in a straight line. Sometimes, like with the weather, it seems like they all happen in a day. There is no prescribed timeline. There's movement. If the season of grief is heavy, like the larger teeter-totter partner, it may take extra time to get to the dancing (v.4). The encouragement in these verses is that the dancing will come. Seasons change, in life as with the weather.

As I walk through this life I have been given, I'm learning to recognize my rhythms. They may not be the same rhythm as what God has given you, but he is walking with both of us. Ecclesiastes 3:11a "he has made everything beautiful in its time." Everything is known by God. Everything has a season, even when I can't see it. In the middle of the tears I want laughter because I don't like to cry. I can take courage from the fact the tears won't last. They have their season. I'm thankful that God knows what we need each season, each activity, and each day.

My writing seasons, my organizing seasons, my gardening seasons, and my life seasons all have a rhythm. Sometimes I notice them and sometimes I don't. My life season is in transition. The girls are adults and now need a different type of energy and presence from me than they did while growing up. My writing, my hobbies, and my studies no longer need to occupy the margins of life. Whether in the margins or not, my writing has times of reflection and times of action. Sometimes I want to linger in reflection even when God is calling me to the action of putting words on the page. Sometimes I want to rush ahead. I continue to learn that whether I'm laughing or crying, reflecting or writing, God is in the season with me. He is leading me from shadow to light. No matter the season, I can be confident of His presence and His leading.

Lorilee Guenter enjoys gardening, reading and more. During the summer, her and her husband Bruce often hit the nearby trails. He carries a camera. She carries a sketchbook.

What Does Your Heart Say? by Lorilee Guenter

Across from me in the coffee shop sat a lady. Her sweater read, "I wear my heart on my sleeve." On the sleeve a list of names represents people important to her. Without talking to her, I don't know who they are. I only know that these are people who mean a lot to her. She loves them.

I wonder what others see when they look at me. I don't proclaim my affection on my clothes. Do my actions as I sit across from family or friends show they are important to me? My words are a clanging gong if they are not backed up by action. I do not want to be a clanging gong. I want to be a voice in the symphony God is directing.

As summer gave way to fall, I noticed distraction pulling my attention. Instead of leaning in to engage in conversation, I was looking beyond. I was leaning back and letting my thoughts wander. I missed out on true connection. Communication became strained as I forgot how to listen not just with my ears but with my heart. I became a clanging gong.

Noticing my responsibility in the disconnect, I lean back in. I confess that I do not like what was going on. I don't want my distraction to turn my words into discordant noise so I allow God to tune me, to bring me back to where He desires me. I pause to listen. I vowed, with God's help, to set aside distraction. I can not do this on my own. Thankfully I don't have to. The Master Conductor knows what I need so I can sing.

Jesus wore His heart on the cross. As thorns pierced His brow and blood and water ran from His side, He wrote my name. He wrote our names. They aren't written with pencil to be erased. They aren't written with thread that can be picked out. Jesus wrote our names with His life. In doing so, He offered to guard our hearts. He knows that even if we try, we are incapable of consistent vigilance without His help. He knows we need His hand in all we do.

The seasons change, my resolve to connect well is tested. I know the only way it will hold is by leaning in. Today, I choose to trust, to let Jesus hold me close and make my heart sing as part of His masterpiece. Tomorrow, I pray I make the same choice.

Lorilee Guenter is a writer and artist from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She enjoys exploring God's creation. Her hobbies and interests are varied which leads to an eclectic set of books she is reading.