What gain has the worker from his toil? I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man. Eccl. 3:9-13

Leaves raked, blown, bagged or composted. Remember when we used to set them aflame. Looking back, it seemed more of a community act than what we do today. Remember the blue haze when we built fires in the curbside or makeshift firepit. This was the way leaves were handled.

Now we line up brown bags along the street. Or compost the lot into flowerbeds.

Think about other ways that things were done and are, for the most part, not done any longer.

The hand-tied bow tie, ever so slightly askew, meant authentic.

The three-piece suit with with a special pocket in the vest for a pocket watch.

The pocket watch.

The suit measured and tailored in a downtown shop—Gaede’s or Horsley’s in Wheaton; Dean Olson’s in Glen Ellyn.

From percolate to drip to press to pour—things have a way of changing.

As you walk in the doors of Starbucks, remember this is where Sandberg’s used to be.

Or when you choose which kind of pizza you’d like, think of the watercolor tubes or school supplies you used to pick up there.

Maybe you’re enjoying a sit-down meal where you used to buy bakery cookies or a birthday cake.

Today you can watch a play where people used to wait in line to deposit their paychecks on Friday.

And there’s coffee roasting where—I don’t know what was back in that alley before.

Where some cars used to get their oil changed, people enjoy burgers, fries and beer.

You can phone an old friend and discover a new bagel shop.

You can buy doughnuts where you used to get Chinese food.

Or Mexican food in what used to be a department store.

You can still check out books where you used to check out books.

You can still eat your lunch in the same parks.

You can still wait in line at the meat market.

You can still visit at visitations or grieve with those who grieve on the same corner.

And you can still get popcorn where you used to get popcorn.

You can still get luminaria supplies at Ace.

You can still worship God where you used to worship God.

You can still pray wherever you pray.

One day a parking lot might become your bedroom.

One day your creperie might become a halal shop.

One day your bedroom might become a closet in a luxury condominium.

One day your place of work might turn into a dog-grooming salon.

Change happens not just in buildings or towns.

We change too, summer yellows to autumn browns,

Spring bulb loves, summer families nest,

Autumn faith harvest, winter servant rest.

It could be that loving people and God—

A thing that always seems a little odd

Is the most normal and right thing we’ll ever do—

This is how you become the real you.

Everything that was, is or will be

Speaks of more than just community—

The buildings are not what you really see

People are the buildings of eternity.

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us—that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.
1 John 1:1-3