I haven't written much lately. I don't expect to write much today, but I am rather long-winded.
I haven't written much because all I seem to be writing lately is eulogies. I did another on Facebook last night. Today I am thinking about Ecclesiastes-- You know--the "time for everything" part.
"A time for tears, and a time to refrain." Well, last night my granddaughters were with me in the car when I got a call. I absolutely knew who was calling and what would be said. My pastor and good friend called, her voice breaking a bit, to tell me a mutual friend had died suddenly. She had to get back to the family.
And I wept. I'm not sure the kids had seen me do that before, because I don't, much.
Then I drove them home, went home, fed the dogs, and started making the calls that need to be made.
The friend's family is huge. I will be putting beans on to soak soon, for the funeral --or rather, memorial-- meal. So now I refrain from crying.
People say, "I had no choice."
They always do.
There is heat of the moment. There is emotional. There are choices. We make them, every day.
I saw a hyperactive 4-year-old keep his behind on a square foot of tile for more than 15 minutes when he was told to sit there and wait till his mother came back. He had made some bad choices. He was noisy in class. He didn't do what he was told. Other crimes may have been involved.
I admit, I colluded with his imprisonment by telling him entertaining stories about poor choices and consequences. He didn't really get it, but he admitted he had made bad choices, and earnestly wished to be set free. He would try to make better choices later. I kept pointing out he had the self-control to stay on his assigned slab for a very long time for a four-year-old. So he has that achievement to build on.
Ecclesiastes doesn't say there's a time to squirm in place and a time to run freely again, but hopefully not amok. Perhaps it should.
It might make the jobs of many in law enforcement easier.