A Chasing After Wind

"I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity, a futile grasping and chasing after the wind."- Ecclesiastes

There is something cathartic about reading the book of Ecclesiastes.

This is the book you come to quite often if you are an "at last" sort person. As in: at last I have found the right Parish, the right liturgy, at last I have found the perfect friendship, the best job, the coolest house, the grand prize, the dream fulfilled. NOW life will be different. I have arrived. Where you have ‘arrived’ is never quite articulated.

And then, as is the wont of the capricious, changeling world, the Church, the liturgy, the friendship; they all suddenly prove less than ideal. The job may become monotonous, the house a financial burden. Worry begins to hang things up in your soul like so many sheets flapping around you in the wind. You feel stifled in your ability to see the big picture. You feel too full of swirling worries, trying to keep all those balls in the air, as disappointments bump into one another within your deluded brain - your brain which had banked too much on the notion that ‘at last’ happiness had come to stay for good. But, alas. Vanity of vanities.

You are not alone.

The writer of Ecclesiastes, God Bless Him - and He DID in fact bless him by inspiring him to write the book - the writer says, "For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart with which he has labored under the sun? All his days, sorrow and grief are his occupation; even at night his mind is not at rest. This also is vanity".

Some people might find these words cryptic, negative, Eyore-esque. But they have a beautiful reset power for the "at last" kind of soul. The soul who is looking for that elusive perfection that does not exist down here, though, by gum it, we just keep on searching don't we? We get so tightly wound trying to find that final "at last" of happiness in a world of change. And just when we reach the point of trying to keep it all from falling - along comes the wind to sweep it away. And in many senses we are relieved. We could not have carried it much longer.

The singer Jay Farar and his band Son Volt have a wonderful little ditty called "Let the Wind Take Your Troubles Away". Ecclesiastes is something like that. When you read it, it brings a bracing inner wind that blows all your man-made troubles, your false "at lasts" - away. All is vanity. All. Let the wind take it away. It's the fresh start you need to reset your soul.

And after you get over the cathartic release, your soul is able to breath again. All the vanity blown away once again. You realize that this Church, this liturgy, this friendship, this job, this house, the dream, that longing....they are good for what they are. But you have to hold lightly. They are not meant to fulfill any sort of "at last" for you. They are finite and full of flaws - like you.

One thing lasts - God. He is your "at last". These finite things come in with the wind and go out with the wind over and over again. To teach us to hold lightly over and over again. The up and down of it is painful for those who long more tenaciously for permanent happiness in a changeling world. But we have to keep at it. When we find ourselves grasping at "at lasts" - that is when we pick up Ecclesiastes to set us straight. It is the best book for the job!

Our true wind is the Holy Spirit now who has been poured into our hearts. It is His wind that takes our troubles away. If we let them go, we are filled with Him. Our great "at last" even now within us. This "new thing under the Sun" - this great wind of eternal meaning and rest shows us how to love the Church, the friend, the house, the job, the dream in a way that enfolds them properly in our soul. Every once in awhile he blows them all about to help us keep the good wheat and let the chaff get scattered far.

Let His wind take your troubles away.

I do not feel inclined at this time to have a paid substack. But if we were together in a cafe discussing all these thoughts, I would not be opposed to you buying me a cup of coffee - with cream, of course. In that spirit, if any of my posts resonate with you and you feel so inclined, you can donate here: buymeacoffee.com/denise_trull