being in a hurry. getting to the next thing without fully entering the thing in front of me. i cannot think of a single advantage i've ever gained from being in a hurry. but a thousand broken & missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all rushing... through all the haste i thought i was making up time. it turns out i was throwing it away.
{mark buchanan: the rest of God}
{mark buchanan: the rest of God}
time is life. life a vapor. minutes evaporate into seconds. seconds vanish, lost to forever, preserved only by memory, changed only by perception. hurry robs a life, empties the soul. hurry wastes moments, wastes minutes, wastes a life. and if i want the fullest life, i need the fullest time.
we are merely moving shadows, and all out busy rushing ends in nothing. {psalm 39:6}
hurry ends in nothing. ends in thievery. how much have i missed only because i hadn't been looking, hadn't opened my eyes to see, my arms to embrace? only feet to race. how much of life have i robbed by my own hands, my own drive for more, for perfect, for tomorrow?
whatever the pace, time will keep it and there's no outrunning it, only speeding up and pounding the feet harder; the minutes pound faster too. race for more and you'll snag on time & leak empty. the longer i keep running, the longer the gash, and i drain, bleed away.
{ann voskamp: one thousand gifts}
and i grieve. a life so full it is empty, void of any real life. a life lost to hurry. a life broken by needless rush... almost. can it be redeemed? will the Timekeeper let me learn the secret? learn how to keep time. learn how to enjoy, to embrace all the moments between now & forever. keep every second in perfect time, weighed down, slowed down by my presence, my full attention. even the hard moments, the loud moments, the dirty, grungy, tedious moments?
this is where God is found. in the moment. God framed in the beauty of a budding tree, in the fresh folded laundry, in the glorious stretch of a muscle worked hard, in the glow of little cheeks all rosy with glee. yes, even in crumb covered socks, in the baby crying in the night, in the smudged windows & sorely teethed little gums, with eyes heavy with exhaustion & soul bruised. yes, even there, i can find Him.
the secret is in the thanking. in the counting of the moments. in the tasting, the savoring of time. all the time He has given me.
i redeem time from neglect & apathy & inattentiveness when i swell with thanks & weigh the moment down & it's giving thanks to God for this moment that multiplies the moments, time made enough. i am thank-full. i am time-full.
{ann voskamp: one thousand gifts}
{ann voskamp: one thousand gifts}
and so it is time. time to see, time to breath deep & embrace. no more hurry. no more haste. no emptying. just living, gaining, giving, spending time... giving it back to the Timekeeper.
#433: flossing
#434: floor covered in wooden blocks
#435: ribbons, bold & bright
#436: pulling the curtains at days end
#437: an empty muffin jar
#438: running shoes
#439: the capability to learn
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