Time And Time Again

The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of 60 minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is. ~C.S. Lewis

I once believed time was linear.

That time, like an untamed river, rushed onward, too intent on reaching some far off ocean to wait while I gathered my courage.

I thought I had one chance to step in. Just one.   And every evening, under time’s steady flow, I must wash my hands with either gratitude or grief–the good and the regrettable both swirling down the drain together. Gone.

You can’t go back. You’ve made your choice. Others are waiting for their turn.

Time Again

But I’ve learned time does more than roll on. She also puddles, circles , eddies and leaps according to the will of a God not bound by her. With a dip of his finger come second chances, sweet reunions, rebirth and redemption to redirect the tide.

God broods, he hovers over our moments and memories, reminding, restoring, making all things new. And by his mercy, the past is reoriented, the future is reassured  and the present is weighted with  grace even as the seconds tick away.

What do you regret? What wound is unhealed? At what age did you resign with a tired shrug and turn in the keys to your dreams?  Who were you meant to be, but you lost the design? Who were you made to love, but you forgot?

It’s not too late, it’s not too early, the moment’s right to reconcile the time.

Start small. Start simple. Start now.

• Say, thank you.
• Say, I’m sorry.
• Say, I’m ready to turn around.

Give God a smile and say, yes, one heartbeat moment at a time.

And ponder this poem…

Until Then

There comes a point of no return

when, without fanfare, cunning

time capsizes and we turn

into what all along we were becoming.

.

Until then, though—

.

until the verdict of what will be

waves down death

to finish off this business of destiny—

.

every thought, every twitch of muscle, breath,

blink of eye, every nod is another

grain on the scale, precisely dropping space

by space, imperceptible in pace,

down toward one finale or the other.

~ By Jeff Reed, a pastor, poet and wise connoisseur of time.

 

Photograph by Melanie Hunt