Do you ever try to hold on to time? Do you ever bottle it up and try to save it? Or do you squeeze it so tightly yet still feel it stealthily slipping through your locked-shut fingers like sand through an hourglass? No matter how you try to hold on, time always finds a way to continue moving.
The more “good” you try add to your life—activities, events, expectations—the quicker time seems to move. It picks up the pace like someone who realizes they are being chased. Or time is a runner in a race and the first one to arrive at the finish wins. And then before you know it, time is getting away from you and you can hardly breathe.
Time Travels
Time. Where does it go? Who has enough? How does it “fly” and “travel”? Who can actually check on it? One minute I’m anticipating the weekend; the next I’m shocked at how the month is ending, the year is ending, the season is ending because it felt like we were just getting started.
As a child, I remember the day I recognized Time. I was in third grade. It was summer, and I was swimming in our neighborhood pool. I remember getting very sad realizing the summer was coming to an end, I was going to have to go to the next grade, and the next step would be college and I’d inevitably have to leave home. Quite the leap, I know, but that’s where my mind went. Fearfully, I was gripped by the rapid succession of these thoughts.
I recognized time as this elusive beast that stood still for no one. And I began to greedily grip the moments given, clenching them in my hands as to not have them lurch forward without me.
Time for…
When you are a child, time is an infinite element. Large gaps of time stand between anticipated activities (hence why kids are always asking “are we there yet?” “Are we going today?”); Christmas was always a loooong time coming. But there is a moment (at least for me there was) where time was no longer immeasurable. It begins to pick up the pace, and all of a sudden, Time has made itself recognizable yet uncontrollable.
And you either learn to be present in the moment, going with the flow, training your mind to enjoy each second OR you work tirelessly, grabbing at each second, strangling each minute, never truly appreciating any given moment.
Bottom Line
Which is why there is no time like the present. There is no moment that will be better than this moment I am in right now. We are not promised tomorrow, so I will not live in anticipation of what is to come, but will rest in the blessing of what has already been given.
These moments—holding my son, laughing with my husband, breathing in God’s grace and breathing out His praise—are the moments I must take in, let them fill me up, and then let them go like a big breath of air I didn’t know I had been holding in my lungs. Each relished moment growing my thanks, growing my gratitude, growing my stamina for praising the One who continues to give so generously.
Time might stand still for no one, but each moment, second, minute is a gift that when savored is a song that fills your heart with thanksgiving. And that thanksgiving song is a timeless melody worth singing.
Prayer
Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for the precious moments you give. Thank you that time with You is everlasting. Continue to open my eyes to see the good gifts you give, to count them all as blessings, to build an overflow of thanks in my heart. Help me to not worry about time as it passes, but to enjoy each moment. Thank you for giving us such generous gifts. We love you with all of our hearts. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
