Meaningless! Meaningless!

When I was young there were countless times I made a decision that I later regretted. Whether it was choosing to watch TV instead of studying for an important test or spewing hateful words to someone and wishing I could take them back, I remember the intensity of wanting to turn back time for just a little bit so I could have a do-over. Sometimes I would lament to my parents about my decision. My father said the same thing to me every time this happened: “Too soon old; too late smart.” I knew what he meant, but those words hold a much deeper meaning for me now that I am closer to the end of my life.

Over the summer, my regular Bible study group takes a break. This past summer I felt the need to continue in some kind of Bible study. I had grown so much over the year we met, and I didn’t want to lose that progress. I searched my overstuffed bookshelves to find one that appealed to me. Of all the ones I have, the one that jumped out at me was a study on the book of Ecclesiastes. If you’re familiar with the book you know it isn’t a book resounding with joys and praises. A little background on the book may be helpful.

The book doesn’t mention an author; however, it does proclaim the author as a wise teacher. and the son of David. Based on that and what the book says, Bible scholars believe Solomon is its author. Solomon was the son of King David. It was Solomon who was charged by God to build His temple. God offered Solomon anything he wanted. He asked for wisdom that he could always discern what is right and true. He introduces himself in the first verse of the book, then dives right into the point he wants to make:

“‘Meaningless! Meaningless!’ says the Teacher. ‘Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.’ ”

Wow. That is not a very encouraging opening to the book. He makes his point with examples from the world. The sun rises and then sets. Everyday. People are born while others die. Everyday. All streams flow to the sea. Everyday. Interestingly, the sea is never full. Solomon often repeats the phrase, “There is nothing new under the sun.” My husband and I actually joke about this. We were kids in the 1970’s. It was the age of paisley shirts, mini skirts, and wallpaper. The legs of jeans were wide at the bottom. A mustard yellow and green were common colors for clothing. Clogs were popular footwear. Beads and large earrings hung off the heads of young people. Long hair for guys was cool. As we walked through the mall not too long ago, we both commented on how the “new” fashions strongly resembled those that our older brothers and sisters wore in the 70’s.

Being all-wise must have held many advantages, but Solomon makes sure he communicates that being all-wise also had its drawbacks:

“For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge the more grief.” (Ecc. 1:18 NIV)

Our world has become much smaller in that we can, in an instant, know what is happening in a country thousands of miles away. My parents always watched the news after dinner. There was limited information about what was happening in a country across the ocean, and what information there was, my seven-year-old self didn’t understand it. My world consisted of school, swing sets, pools, bikes, roller skates and four channels on TV. If it was a nice night, we could sometimes pick up the Canadian channels too. Now, to scroll through the channels we can get could be an all-night activity, especially when streaming services are added. As I got older, and cable TV finally came to our island, my world expanded. I then understood what war meant, and I could see some realities of it. That’s even more true today with Google and the magical internet. War is not new, though. Remember, “There is nothing new under the sun.” War has been around since the fall of man in the Garden of Eden. My increase in years on this earth have proven over and over how right my dad’s words were when he told me old age would come soon, and wisdom would come late.

A little over 36 years ago, I married my high school sweetheart. Well, I was in high school when we met. He had graduated a couple years before that. I got married thinking, “How hard can it be? It’s just the two of us, and we love each other. Nothing could possibly be hard about that.” Oh, how naive I was! Both of us are the babies in our families. Both of us were used to getting what we wanted when we wanted it. Both of our sets of parents were close to and over 40 when we finally came along. They were established in their jobs. I grew up in a nice house. I always had my own room even though at times there were four kids living there. I grew up with a dishwasher. My older brother and sister were quick to remind me that they had to wash the dishes by hand when they were growing up. We had two cars by the time I came along. The floors of our home were nicely carpeted. Again, we were reminded that they grew up with ice cold hardwood floors in the wintertime. I foolishly assumed all these things would stay the same except that I could finally live by my own rules. Foolish is the exact opposite of wisdom, and foolish I was. Those years were hard. They became even harder when we added kids to the mix. Four kids in five years pushed me beyond my limit most of the time. I had a dog growing up, but since I was the youngest, I had no experience with babies and little kids. The night we brought our firstborn home from the hospital we put him in the bassinet when it was bedtime. I can still see his open eyes looking at me. Seconds later, as I was crawling into bed, the crying began. It didn’t stop most of the night. I was shocked that a little human could cry that much. As I learned on that poor guinea pig of a firstborn child, I was more adept at handling the others as they came along. I had learned to expect the crying, and I had figured out ways to help calm the chaos.

I can look back now, almost 34 years since that firstborn broke me in as a mom, and see all the things I did wrong. I didn’t interact as much as I should have. I let my toddlers watch way too much TV. I didn’t know emotional needs of children were just as important as physical ones. I didn’t mess everything up, of course. I read countless books and stories over the years. I homeschooled when it became apparent that the public school wasn’t going to work out for one reason or another. They always had food and always had clean clothes. There was no shortage of toys either. Using today’s vernacular, I was a “good enough mom”. I didn’t beat them every day, nor did I completely let them fend for themselves. They were healthy and growing–good enough. I wasn’t a “good” mom though. Years and gray hairs have shown me all the ways I failed.

I am now old, and that wisdom came a bit too late. Something that really frustrates me is the fact that I now have all this wisdom and nowhere to use it. You see, those kids, now grown with families of their own, don’t desire my wisdom. They want to do it their way. They have to make the mistakes I made. I’ve often asked God why He gave me wisdom that is useless? I know the unhealthiness that too much screen time brings. I know how important it is to play with your kids. I know that wearing two different socks is fine, and that getting a stain on a new shirt really isn’t the end of the world. I know that clutter causes chaos. I know all the things now that I needed to know 34 years ago. It is of no use to me now though. I know there is nothing new under the sun.

I’ feel the need to redeem the book of Ecclesiastes. While Solomon does seem like an author depressed by the world around him, he was trying to make a point. Everything on this earth is meaningless–in the long run. I can chase all the world offers, but things won’t satisfy me. That new car I so desperately want will eventually rust. The clothes I buy, if I can avoid getting too big to wear them, will get holes and wear out. So will the $300 shoes I just had to have. Worldly things are meaningless because they won’t last. They won’t satisfy. Solomon tells us at the end of the book what is important:

“Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole [duty] of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.”

I wasn’t a perfect parent. I never thought I was, but time has shown me just how much I missed out on by not having the wisdom needed at the time. My kids weren’t perfect kids. They will someday see what they are unable to see right now. Wisdom comes too late.