Time, that ever elusive commodity more valuable than money.  Although there are those who say time IS money.  Time, the one thing we all have in equal measure; sixty minutes in an hour, twenty-four hours in a day.  The same for all of us, nobody gets more, nobody gets less.  Doesn’t matter who we are; rich or poor, famous or infamous, old or young, what race, religion, color or creed; time is no respecter of any person.

There are so many things we do with time.  We spend time, we save time, we take time, we make time, we waste time, we mark time, we bide our time, we find some time, we loose track of time, we buy some time, we have time to kill, we have time on our hands, or we are in a race against time.  And we can do all these things with time in the space of a single day.  Exhausting.

Time itself is a many faceted marvel.  Sometimes time flies, sometimes it drags, or creeps or crawls.  A minute can seem an eternity or a day can pass in the blink of an eye.  We say, “use your time wisely,” or  “don’t waste your time.”  (as if we own Time)  Time – making it, spending it, saving it; all things we do with money.  But time is infinitely more valuable than money.  We can’t get it back.  Time marches on without us,  in spite of us, as if to keep some preordained appointment, scheduled long before our appearance into this thing we call time.

Time is busy, as our conversations reveal.  We say time is standing still, we say time is running out, we say time is passing us by, we say time is slipping away, we say the time is fast approaching or the time has come.  We say we will take time off, we put our kids in “time out”.  We say time waits for no man.

Time – empty hours left to us to fill with whatever we choose.  Or seconds fleeting, eluding our frantic grasps as they pass us by; and we, wanting for a moment’s pause in which to revel in the sound or sight or smell or taste or touch contained in just that moment’s pleasure; needing no past or future, sufficient unto itself alone, the joy contained in that small space of time. It will not stay, but marches on (as time does), leaving us behind with memory for comfort and companion or sweeping us along to we know not what, requiring we leave behind that which time already took from us without consent, ushering us into places new and yet familiar.  Perhaps these places are the same, but we are not the same because time has kept us ever moving.  Time will not rest but carries us ever toward the destination, a destination we chose or didn’t choose, but will arrive at all the same.  A place familiar and unknown, where time never runs out and we are at home in eternity.

“Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  Psalm 90:12

“Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.”   Ephesians 5:16

“Show me, oh Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life.”  Psalm 39:4

thank you, dear reader, for taking the time/spending your time in reading this.

sincerely,              Grace Day