Chances are that you’ve checked your phone to see the time within the last hour, according to a Gallup Survey. But it’s relatively true, isn’t it? Checking the time is a pretty natural thing. We’ve been tracking throughout the history of mankind. Before there were cell phones, there were primarily watches, before that, sundials, and even before that we used astrology. It’s just natural to check the time… whether we are keeping track of our speed, trying to be on time to the next engagement, or just wishing it wouldn’t go so fast.
No matter the reason, one thing is certain. We know that time will keep on going, whether we want it to,… or not. It’s like the law of gravity. We know that it will keep on working, the way it always has. It’s easy to settle with this truth in the short term. Somehow it seems that we are guaranteed the next, moment, the next week, or even the next year.
Not so. Ask any mother who has watched her child go from an utterly dependent and helpless infant to an all grown-up adult with their own ideas, sense of self and choices to make. Yes, time goes on. It doesn’t ask our permission, or what we think. It just keeps going.
Thankfully, time is not our enemy. It is our gift. Knowing it’s fleeting nature ought to lead us to ponder the time that we are given. How much of it we will spend loving kindness, rather than harboring bitterness,… doing justice rather than preserving ourselves, ….and walking humbly with God rather than proudly rushing in our own way.
Thankfully, there is more to this life than the moment we currently sense. There is a pulse that quickens the soul, and it’s tempo is of an everlasting time that has no end. Let this be the pulse to which we fight to listen… to which we fight to check at least once per hour… knowing that there is abounding grace for our failed attempts to do so. Knowing that we are more than the sum of our checklists and yet we are graced with the time spent in checking them.
Yes, there is more, there is great wisdom as we learn to number our moments,… our weeks,… our years.