Spring might be the season that I look forward to the most. I grew up in Indonesia where there are only two seasons: wet or dry. When I moved to Philadelphia, I learned to not take for granted the changes in the four seasons.
Spring, summer, fall and winter. As the seasons cycle through, I appreciate the significance that the earth is still rotating and time is moving forward. After the bitter cold of winter, spring comes to bring new warmth and light into our lives. After the sweltering heat of summer, fall comes to give a gentle breeze and falling leaves.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
ECCLESIASTES 3:1-8 (ESV)
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
This particular season for me has been a time to be sad, break down, and mourn. We are still in the middle of a pandemic, and I am constantly hearing news and stories of people who died too soon.
Last month, I heard the news of the heinous shooting in Atlanta, along with the increasing amount of anti-Asian rhetoric and hate crimes toward Asian Americans in the US. I began to question my own identity and safety as an Asian woman living in the United States.
Last week, I heard news of a police shooting that took the life of a young Black man, a death that could have been (and should have been) prevented, but happened anyway. I am learning and lamenting that we have a broken system that is endangering people of color.
But just as there’s a time for me to be sad, break down, and to mourn, God reminded me that there’s also time for me to heal, to build up, and to find peace.
I choose to focus on things that I have control over.
I choose to find hope in overlooked places. I saw many communities organizing COVID-19 vaccination sites as an effort to keep communities protected. As I received my second dose of the vaccination, I was hopeful; I was healing.
As I unlearn harmful ideologies and educate myself further to become a better member of the community, I am hopeful that I am playing a role, no matter how small, to change things for the better.There’s so much work to be done! While it’s perfectly fine to be angry, sad, and disappointed at the situation at times, we need to focus on working toward healing, making small but tangible changes. As the cycle of weeping and mourning continues, I am hopeful that we as a community can come together and be the laughter and the dance.
The opinions expressed in articles posted on Mosaic’s website are those of the author and may not reflect the official policy of Mosaic Conference. Mosaic is a large conference, crossing ethnicities, geographies, generations, theologies, and politics. Each person can only speak for themselves; no one can represent “the conference.” May God give us the grace to hear what the Spirit is speaking to us through people with whom we disagree and the humility and courage to love one another even when those disagreements can’t be bridged.
This post is also available in: Español (Spanish)
This post is also available in: Español (Spanish)