Week 4 - Ecc. 3:1-15 | Rhymes & Reasons

Good morning, everyone. Quick show of hands who here has a calendar, planner, or to-do list? Or at the very least a mental one?

That’s most of us. Those of you who don’t are living in a van down by the river. Which ain’t nothing wrong with that… Right—but pretty much all of us, we plan our days down to the hour, some of y’all are down to the minute. We map out meetings, meals, workouts (you can see I’ve been skipping that block on my calendar!) we plan appointments, even our downtime. We try to schedule life like it's a controlled experiment! A busy and full one to be sure, but we plan that baby out!

AND then life happens!

The meeting runs long. The kids get sick. The car won’t start. One phone call unravels your whole afternoon or week. And suddenly, your carefully crafted plan feels like a flimsy piece of paper in a hurricane. And in those moments, a deep question bubbles on up to the surface: Who’s really in control here?

Now… imagine you had a remote control in your hand. Not for your TV—but for your life.

You could fast-forward through awkward conversations, mute the sound of crying and whining toddlers or your mother-in-law... (not mine of course she goes here and she's great!). Imagine you had a remote control for life where you could just skip that whole messy conflict or that one season of financial stress and strain. Imagine you had a remote like that — what would you hit ‘next’ on?

I think we’ve all at least had these feelings, you’re prolly not weirdo like me and never played it out with what if I had a remote that could pause, rewind or fast-forward life, but I think we’ve all felt and wished even that we could just skip ahead to the ‘good part already.’

Did you know there’s actually a movie about this—It's called Click, with Adam Sandler.

I don’t remember the ins and outs of the whole movie, so please don't hear this as a ringing endorsement to go watch it! It's an Adam Sandler film, so it's likely got some crude parts—honestly, I don't recall the details. But what I do remember is the storyline: His character gets that very remote, the one that controls life. At first, it’s awesome. He skips arguments, long meetings, boring family dinners. But as he fast-forwards through the tough and mundane, by the end of his life, he realizes that he skipped what really mattered—the struggles that shaped him, the quiet joys that sustained him, and the deep connections he shared with his family. By the end, he tragically realizes he hadn’t really lived—he’d just fast-forwarded through the very moments that make life meaningful.

And here’s my question, what if that movie’s warning is also God’s wisdom?

What if the very seasons we want to skip are the ones that God wants to use?

This is exactly what Ecclesiastes 3 invites us into. I believe Solomon essentially says in this passage and this is our big idea: Don’t get trapped by the seasons of life, let them train you to trust and enjoy God and His gifts!

And here’s our roadmap for we’re going to unpack vv. 1-15 of Ecclesiastes 3 together:

First, we'll see that Seasons Are Inevitable—And Ordained (vv. 1-8). The text will show us the universal rhythms of life that God has appointed.

Second, we'll grapple with the truth that Seasons Feel Heavy—But They’re Not Hopeless (vv. 9-15). Even in the burdens and our limited understanding, God's design shines through and it’s beautiful.

Finally, we'll arrive at our core message: Seasons Can Train You—If You Trust the One Who Ordains Them (vv. 12-15). This is where we’ll discover how to move from being trapped to truly trusting God in every season of our lives

Now we’re gonna read the passage together in full, and as I do, I want listen for a few things:

First, notice the repetition. You'll hear the phrase "a time for..." over and over, followed by pairs of opposites. This emphasizes the wide variety of experiences in life.

Second, I want you to look for the shift. After this poetic list, the author starts to reflect and make theological statements about God's role in all of it.

Thirdly, I want you to listen for the surprising command. In the middle of all this observation, there’s a direct call for how we should live.

Let’s read it together:

Ecclesiastes 3:1–15 NLT

1 For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. 2 A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. 3 A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. 4 A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. 5 A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. 6 A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. 7 A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. 8 A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace. 9 What do people really get for all their hard work? 10 I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. 11 Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. 12 So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. 13 And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God. 14 And I know that whatever God does is final. Nothing can be added to it or taken from it. God’s purpose is that people should fear him. 15 What is happening now has happened before, and what will happen in the future has happened before, because God makes the same things happen over and over again.

I. Seasons Are Inevitable—And Ordained (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Alright, firstly, the Preacher starts with a poetic, comprehensive list: “For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.” He then outlines fourteen pairs of contrasting activities—and it’s quite an exhaustive list: Birth and death. Weeping and laughing. Keeping and letting go. Loving and hating. War and peace.

And I want you to especially notice the farming metaphors: “a time to plant, and a time to harvest… a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.” Solomon knew his audience. These were people who lived close to the dirt. They didn’t have Aldi or Chief. Their lives were ordered by the ground beneath their feet and the sky above their heads. Their calendars weren’t filled with meetings and appointments—they were filled with seasons.

There was a time to break up the soil, a time to sow, a time to weed and wait, a time to harvest, and a time to rest the land.

Think of our own common growing seasons here in the West:

Spring: That's our time to break up the soil, to plant seeds, to anticipate new growth.

Summer: This is often a season of trust as we tend to our crops, maybe do some weeding but mostly wait for God to send rain and watch the intense growth that miraculously takes place!

The Fall arrives: The time of harvest —where we work super hard gathering the fruits of the year's efforts.

And then Winter: A time of quiet waiting and preparation. Everything looks dead, but the ground rests, looking forward to spring's new life, and we rely on what we’ve stored, hoping it's enough to last until then.

This was how the ancients lived! It was their rhythm for life! Their survival depended on knowing the season—and submitting to it.

Now listen—most of us are not farmers, but we still live in seasons too. Some of you are in a season of building: career, family, foundation. Others are in a season of letting go—empty nesting, downsizing, grieving, restarting. Some are waiting and watching—like in summer, where roots are growing deep underground but you’re still waiting to see fruit! Some of you are in a harvest season—fruit is coming in, praise God. Others are in winter—it’s cold and dry. You’re tired. You’re surviving on yesterday’s manna, hoping it’ll be enough.

They lived by the literal seasons of the land and we live by the seasons of life!

Some seasons are fun and joy-filled. Others are hard, difficult, and downright painful.

But here’s the thing Solomon really wants us to know: God appoints them all. None of them are random. None of them are wasted. All of them are under heaven and under His hand.

And this is where Solomon starts to press deeper. Even in a world that understood the rhythms of nature—planting, waiting, harvesting, resting—he knew that the seasons of life or the heart existed as well and that they felt much harder to navigate.

Solomon knew that there were emotional, relational, and spiritual stretches where there’s no clear forecast, no obvious end date, no promise of rain.

And it’s in those seasons—when grief drags on, direction feels fuzzy, prayers go unanswered, and purpose feels distant—that we just want to fast-forward. That’s when life starts to feel aimless, relentless… even cruel. And if we’re not careful, those seasons turn into stalls where we stop moving. We get stuck in the what-ifs and if-onlys. We try to take control—or check out completely. Just like Sandler in Click, skipping the slow and painful parts.

But when we lose sight of God’s sovereign hand over every season, we risk missing the purpose He has for us in it. And that’s when life starts to feel not just heavy—but hollow and meaningless!

So yes—seasons are inevitable, and God appoints every one of them. But let’s be real: just knowing that God is in control doesn’t make every season easy. Some seasons feel heavy—brutally heavy. They bring questions, heartache, delays, disappointments. And when we’re in those stretches, we don’t just need to know that God’s behind it—we need to know that He’s with us in it, and that it’s not all for nothing.

So let’s keep going. Solomon doesn’t leave us in the list of seasons—he takes us into the tension of them. Let’s look now at how even the hardest seasons aren’t hopeless.

II. Seasons Feel Heavy—But They’re Not Hopeless (Ecclesiastes 3:9-15)

A. The Seasons Can Feel Like a Burden—Even the Good Ones (v. 10)

Solomon writes, “What do people really get for all their hard work?” Then he says, “I have seen the burden God has placed on us all” (Ecclesiastes 3:9–10, NLT).

And that word burden—it hits differently depending on the kind of season you're in.

For some of us, it’s the hard seasons that feel heavy. You’re grieving. You’re overwhelmed. You’re confused. You’re praying for breakthrough, but it hasn’t come. You’re trying to hold it together, but the meaning just isn’t coming together.

That’s when the season stops feeling like a chapter and starts feeling like a trap.

That’s where analysis paralysis creeps in. You start working angles, trying to get ahead of your pain. You try to strategize your way out of sorrow. But instead of moving forward, you stall out—overthinking, over-managing, over-functioning—trying to take control of something God never asked you to carry.

But here’s the twist: it’s not just the hard seasons that can trap you—joyful ones can too.

When life is going well—when the job clicks, the kids are healthy, the relationship feels steady—it’s easy to coast in your faith. To forget why the gift is good. And before long, we don’t just enjoy the blessing—we begin to serve it as a god.

If we’re not careful, we start clinging to the gift more than trusting the Giver. We chase the feeling instead of enjoying the Father. And slowly, what was meant to be a blessing becomes a burden. It starts calling the shots. We need it. We have to have it. So we hoard it… and we begin to fear losing it above all else.

And before we know it, joy turns into anxiety. We’re not grieving—we’re bracing. We’re not resting—we’re rigid. We’re stuck—not in sorrow, but in fear.

And maybe for some of us, it goes even deeper. Maybe we do remember that God is sovereign in the good seasons… but we forget who He is. We believe He’s in control—but we’re not sure we can trust His heart. We start to wonder: Was this whole season just a setup? Is He about to pull the rug out from under me?

And that suspicion—left unchecked—robs us of the joy He intended for us to receive. Because when we forget that God is not only in charge but He’s also good, we miss the purpose and the peace He’s planted in every season.

So whether you’re in a hard season or a good one—it’s not enough to simply believe that God is in charge. You also need to remember that He’s good, and that He has good plans for you. His seasons aren’t just ordained—they’re intentional. They’re not just timed—they’re kind.

And while even the good seasons can start to feel heavy, Solomon wants us to remember that they are never hopeless.

That hope comes when we stop trying to escape or fast-forward through our season… and instead let it train us to trust the One who ordained it—and who is committed to our good.

B. The Seasons are Purposeful & Ordained by God (vv. 1, 11a, 14).

Here’s where Solomon shifts the whole perspective—from burden to hope.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time.” And verse 14 adds, “And I know that whatever God does is final. Nothing can be added to it or taken from it.”

For Solomon’s original audience—who often saw life as chaotic or ruled by fate—this was a radical declaration. Even seasons of war and hate, of tearing down and losing, weren’t random. They were part of a divine blueprint. God wasn’t a passive observer—He was, and is, the sovereign orchestrator. Even the senseless moments are being used for something greater.

And for us, in our fast-paced, often overwhelming lives, that truth offers the same anchor of hope.

Yes, the season may feel like a burden. You may want to fast-forward. But that doesn’t mean it’s meaningless. The same God who appoints the season also fills it with purpose. He’s not just watching your story—He’s writing it. Which means that if you’re in Jesus, even the messy, mundane, and miserable parts are being woven into something beautiful and eternally significant.

That truth—that God is still at work, and that His work endures forever—is the foundation for letting seasons train you instead of trap you. If He ordained it, there’s a lesson. If His work is eternal, then this temporary season holds eternal value. This is the rhyme and reason that sets us free from the stalls of life.

We don’t need a remote control. We need trust. Trust in our good Father who promises He has good plans for us in Christ Jesus.

But even with that truth… it doesn’t erase all the tension, does it?

Why? Because we can’t always see what God is doing.

C. The Seasons are Beyond Our Full Comprehension (v. 11b).

Solomon continues: “He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11b, NLT)

Isn’t that exactly where most of us live?

We long for meaning. We ache to understand. We want to see the plan laid out—start to finish.

But God doesn’t give us the whole blueprint. He gives us enough to trust Him for today. We get glimpses—puzzle pieces—but not the full picture.

Faith, it turns out, requires trust because so much of life is mystery. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:12, we see things “imperfectly (dimly), like puzzling reflections in a mirror.”

And that’s exactly why we get stuck.

We try to figure out what only God can know. We strain to decode the why, the when, the how long... But those answers don’t belong to us. And the more we chase them, the more we stall—trying to solve something we were never meant to carry.

But freedom comes when we let go of the need to understand—and choose to trust the One who does.

Just recently, I was praying with a group of men, and one of them—right in the middle of a painful, prolonged season—shared something that stopped me in my tracks.

His wife has been battling a difficult illness. It’s been long, hard, exhausting—physically, emotionally, spiritually. There have been moments of hope… and moments of heartbreak.

But through tears, this man thanked God for all of it, even the suffering. He thanked God for this season.

Why? Because it had drawn him and his wife closer—to each other, and more importantly, to Jesus. It deepened their dependence. It matured their faith. It changed them.

That prayer brought tears to my eyes—and glory to our Father in heaven.

Because here was a man who understood exactly what Solomon was writing about: There is a time for everything—even this. And even this season, God is making beautiful in its time.

This is not a man trapped by his season. This is a man being trained through it—because he’s chosen to trust the One who ordained it.

And that leads us to our final point for this morning:

III. Seasons Can Train You—If You Trust the One Who Ordains Them (Ecclesiastes 3:12-15)

So what do we do with all this? What do we do with the seasons we didn’t choose, the burdens we can’t explain, and the limited perspective we carry?

Remember our big idea: Don’t get trapped by the season—let it train you to trust God.

You see if we’re not careful, analysis paralysis can set in. We obsess over the what ifs and if onlys, and instead of living fully with God in the present, we get stuck. And what was meant to be a season becomes a stall.

Like in Click, we look for a remote to fast-forward the hard parts. But life isn’t meant to be skipped. It’s meant to be entrusted.

What we need isn’t more control. We need more trust.

And no one modeled that trust better than Jesus.

In the Garden of Gethsemane (Matthew 26:36–46), Jesus faced a season He didn’t want—a “time to die.” And not just any death, but death on a cross.

He prayed, “My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me.” (v. 39, NLT) And yet He didn’t avoid the moment. He didn’t pretend everything was fine. He brought His pain to the Father, wrestled in honest prayer, and surrendered: “Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

And through that surrender, the worst moment became the most beautiful. The cross that crushed Jesus broke the power of death. The season that seemed like the end became the beginning of our eternal hope.

If God can redeem that season, what might He do with yours?

And this isn’t just a theological idea—this is real.

You remember the man I told you about earlier—the one whose wife is suffering through a long illness? He didn’t get a timeline. He didn’t get easy answers. But he got something better: the opportunity to trust His good Father. He and his wife have chosen to believe that even this—especially this—is being used by God for something good.

That’s not a man or woman trapped by suffering. That’s a couple being trained through it—because they know the One who ordained the season is still good.

And that leads us to the question we all have to ask: How?

How do we respond so that we don’t get trapped by the season, but instead get trained by it?

Solomon tells us:

Enjoy God’s gifts today.

“So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves… And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.” (Ecclesiastes 3:12–13, NLT)

Don’t miss the beauty of today while trying to control tomorrow. Enjoy the people around you. Receive joy. Savor God’s goodness. Joy isn’t a distraction from spiritual depth—it’s a fruit of trust.

Fear God with holy awe.

“And I know that whatever God does is final. Nothing can be added to it or taken from it. God’s purpose is that people should fear him.” (Ecclesiastes 3:14, NLT)

Let reverence anchor your perspective. He is sovereign. His plans endure. His goodness never expires. Let His holiness lead you to surrender—not fear, but worshipful trust.

Live in joyful surrender.

Like Jesus. He didn’t skip the cross, but chose to trust God and endure it instead so that you and I would never have to walk through a season alone!

I’m reminded of the wise words of James:

“Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15 What you ought to say is, “If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that.” (James 4:13–15, NLT)

And Paul writes:

“But when the right time came, God sent his Son…” (Galatians 4:4, NLT)

God’s timing is always perfect. You can trust it—even when you don’t understand it.

And in Him, even the season that breaks you can become the place where He makes you new.

So let me ask:

What season are you resisting? Where are you stuck?

Lay down the remote. Stop striving to control what only God can. And trust Jesus—the One who is the Rhyme and Reason.

Let Him take this season—and turn it into training that shapes you to look more like Him.

Pray