Have you seen the leaves? I notice them turning already, and I feel myself circling as well.
It’s a lovely time of year, for sure, but I feel a little wilty and yellowing, and the leaves I drop seem like years that will never be replayed.
I feel like I’m fighting for time.
You could say I’m kicking against the goads, because I know that time goes forward only and nothing can make it otherwise. But my nature tries to gather all the sifted sand back up as it threads through my fingers. I don’t gain a single thing when I grasp for time, but I miss the past, nonetheless.
In April, Beth Moore talked to us about TIME and I’m reminded of two things she said:
1. TIME is what keeps everything from happening at once
2. We are not running out of TIME, we are running toward it.
I need those ideas to nail me down as I see the leaves drop and the pages turn on another month.
I’m thinking about how my kids are not-so-little anymore and time is not-so-easy to schedule, and if I’m being honest with you, I’m also thinking about ME time – which may be elusive and selfish and way too worldly, but those are my thoughts.
I could have frozen my husband solid with the look I gave him the other night, when he halfheartedly joked that I had plenty of time to do such-and-such. Could have frozen him into one solid chunk and left him to thaw in my spare time. (Can you say “hot-button”?)
He almost negated the housekeeping comment, but I’m pretty forgiving and pretty sure he wasn’t serious, anyways.
I want to appreciate the space that time gives; to redeem wasted time and buy it back from the enemy who steals moments and whole days right out from under me. I want to say “I have plenty of time” instead of the standard “I’m too busy”.
I want to appreciate the ending of this season because it means the beginning of a new one, and they simply can’t happen all at once.
My kids don’t crawl up in my lap for a story anymore. They don’t have naptimes and playtimes and everything-happens-on-my-time times. I feel all disjointed about this, but I also love the conversations we can have and the ideas we can share and the way they still, truly and rightly, need me. How they come to me with real questions and silly ones, too. How we share inside jokes and common interests and how they can teach me so much.
Time keeps all the good stuff from piling so high that you can’t appreciate every little bit of it.
Time spreads the bitter around, too, and it gives us space to look back for comfort or forward in hope.
Time is linear like that, and we are living on one little spot of the line. “Spare time” might be the way of clearing out that one little spot and making room for more. De-clutter and discard the junk moments and the urgent things, and make room for eternal things.
We are not running out of time. We are running towards The Beginning, when God makes it all new and gathers all our wasted time and gives it back to us – redeemed.
That brings me peace.
I’ve wasted a lot of time just worrying about wasted time, when what I really want is redemption for those moments, and for me. Redemption for the times I didn’t turn off the computer or put down the phone; when I chose me-time over the time of my life; when I handed my minutes over to the enemy of my soul and didn’t even require him to steal them. And then I complain about time.
That’s embarrassing, but embarrassment prompts change.
I’m running towards that time of redemption, and my husband was right.
I do have plenty of time.
How about you? Is there anything stealing your moments right now that you could turn over for redemption? I’m praying for you as you feel the pressure of the changing seasons and the rush of your timeline.