The Teacher’s ancient observation sits uncomfortably with our longing for permanent peace, yet it names something true: not all seasons are the same, and the present moment—with its colliding crises, its trade routes weaponized, its ordinary people displaced or endangered—may be one we do not choose. What Ecclesiastes invites is not resignation but a kind of sober humility: recognition that we live in time, that our plans and threats intersect with forces beyond our control, and that wisdom sometimes means accepting what we cannot remake rather than exhausting ourselves in the attempt. In such seasons, patience becomes its own form of courage, and the simple act of bearing witness—seeing clearly without despair—is itself a spiritual discipline.