when it’s time

Have you heard there’s a time for everything? How every matter has its season? I struggle to internalize this piece of wisdom. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of person; if saving money is wise then frugality must be constant. If I need time alone to recharge, I tend towards withdrawing totally and for days.

I can get on board with a time to plant and a time to harvest—this is just biology, plants need weeks and rainstorms and UV rays. People too need the umbilical cord before milk before solid food before years and memories and death. Here we are trapped in the inevitable passing of time, where the natural effects of age on stems and bodies are not that difficult to accept.

But a time to weep and a time to laugh?

January 1st I was a newly minted college graduate who thought surely this was the time to begin a career. Until it wasn’t. January was the time for wedding planning, new possibilities, shifting beliefs, and resumes. February for visiting family, eating well, celebrating a fifth year with my valentine, and interviews. March became the month of Passover and more interviews and no news and frustration. April broke on birthdays and lost hope, so much joy and so much pain. April was the time to weep. We were weeping for despair and unfulfilled dreams and the trust we’d lost in God’s provision.

Now it’s May and the provision we cried out for has come, sudden and unexpected. You know, the way it always does. So I shouldn’t be surprised that this is a new time.

In a lot of ways, it’s the time of logistics and bills. Of vehicle financing, apartment applications, and student loans. Of researching name changes and joint bank accounts and honeymoon spots.

But it is also, deeply and importantly, the time to laugh.

At dinner last night my fiancé reminded me that the expensive meal was worth every penny because it was our time to celebrate. There is a time to scrimp (and when you’re 22 it’s most of the time) but last night was a time to spend. He also reminded me of the greatest lesson we’ve both learned from his family—that good food is important, and the memories you make around the table with people you love are more precious than money.

So I ordered the second glass of wine and tasted his mojito and we drooled a little over gorgonzola stuffed figs topped with bacon. I savored every bite of my nutty tart, we laughed and toasted each other and found our hope again. And it was time.


2 thoughts on “when it’s time

  1. Well, your name certainly fits you. Shannon means ‘little wise one’, and you are that! Loved reading your blog.

  2. Love this! After just getting back from a trip that was definitely a “splurge,” I can definitely say that this is one of the biggest areas of freedom I’ve needed to learn. We joke a lot that usually the wife is the one who loves to shop, but around here, Jon rejoices when I stop pinching pennies long enough to spend money. Memories and good food are worth it 🙂

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