Friday I wrote about a "Time to weep, and a time to laugh," and didn't get to the laughing part.  But that's okay, everyone knows about laughing.  And it usually happens spontaneously.  Carolyn called me one day last week, and we talked and laughed for forty-five minutes.  I was going to write about that--but for the life of me, I can't remember what was so funny.  Unimportant silly stuff I'm sure.

The next line in Ecclesiastes says, "A time to mourn, and a time to dance."  I am well acquainted with mourning.  So many people that I have loved in my life, that had a part in making me who I am, are gone now.  My Gran and Pops, my Mom and Dad, seven aunts, seven uncles that we spent our summers with, cousins--everyone that I grew up with in my family except for my brother and sister and cousin Ann are gone.  My daughter Amy, and the love of my life--Ken.  Gone. Sometimes I feel like the last leaf on the tree.  If you have a long life like I have, you will experience the same thing.

It is a different kind of mourning from mourning for an individual person.  It is collective sadness for all that is gone and can't be replaced.  I can't go back again.  No one can.  We mourn and then we must go on.  God understands our sadness--He felt sadness for the whole world.  He mourned for the death of his Son and the suffering He endured.  He mourns for those who reject Him.

But isn't it interesting that the writer coupled--in opposing thoughts--mourning with dancing.  The last five Psalms are called Hallel--praise Psalms.  From which we get the word "Hallelujah."  149:3 says: "Let them praise his name in the dance; let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp."  And the last Psalm, 150:4 says, "Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs."

We have heard the old phrase, "Dancing for joy."  Perhaps the writer was telling us that you can't spend your whole life in mourning.  There comes a time that you must find joy in what you have left. Not what you have lost.  I have four children, their four spouses, ten grandchildren, three great-grandchildren.  They bring me joy.  And as for dancing, one of my fondest childhood memories is "jigging" with my grandfather Pops, who played the fiddle and danced a jig while he played.  I bet he is playing the fiddle in heaven.  And I bet even the Baptists are doing a jig.