nothing gold can stay

"Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay." -Robert Frost

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My kid recently checked out this interesting book from the library. 

 

It's titled Astonishing and Extinct Professions (89 Jobs You Will Never Do). It gives succinct descriptions of long-forgotten vocations, such as Whalebone Rippers, Armpit-Hair Pluckers (ouchie), Waker-Uppers, and so on (if you're looking for a gift to give a nephew, niece, or young cousin in your life, it's informative and enjoyable to read).

Three of the professions caught my ear as the book was read to me: the roles of 'Wailing Women (Professional Mourners)'/'Mutes' and 'Funeral Jesters.' In many ancient civilizations, these pros were paid to come to a funeral, cry, pull out their hair, spread ashes on themselves. They often didn't know the person who'd died. Their wailing helped the family and loves ones of the deceased grieve more deeply. 

 

The mutes were men hired to stand silently with the mourners, to look somber. They walked with the funeral procession. They wore all black, except if a child had died -- then they wore white.

 

The funeral jesters would imitate the deceased person during the funeral procession (can you imagine??). The jester would re-tell their favorite jokes, act out important life moments. They humorously revived the dead for one last time. This would give the grieving a chance to reminisce about the departed in a playful, loving way.

 

"Wow," I thought when I heard this. This reminded me that past civilizations and customs have a lot to teach me. I'm sure you could learn a lot too. There's such wisdom in these ancient practices. 

 

How often do we truly make purposeful effort for remembering good times, and for celebrating good things? How well do we make purposeful effort -- truly, set time aside -- for thoughtfully mourning sad things? Always in a hurry to move past. Onward and upward. Gotta get to the next task, gotta keep moving. Always something else to do, somewhere else to be.

 

The train almost never makes an extended pit stop.

Maybe it should.

To stop to acknowledge a blessing reminds us we've been blessed. It also helps counter the weight we feel when a blessed thing comes to an end. 

 

To stop to acknowledge a sadness reminds us that, save the love of God, nothing lasts forever. As good things come, good things go, and that is the reality of life. Nothing gold can stay. 

What's a blessing you have that you would do you well to stop, to ponder more, and to thank God for it? Surely there's some blessing.

What's a sadness you have that you would do well to stop, to ponder more, and to ask God for comfort and hope in your time of sorrow? Surely there's some sadness.

 

We rejoice, and we weep. Many sadnesses mourn blessings that were never designed to last forever.

 

A time to mourn, and a time to dance. Many blessings are of sadnesses vanquished.

 

God doesn't ask us to experience any feeling in this life that he hasn't experienced. It fills our hearts with joy to feel the blessings. And it hurts like hell to bear the sorrows.

"We are not infinite
We are not permanent
Nothing's immediate
And we pretend like we're immortal" -Gone (Switchfoot)

Gone - Switchfoot