Time

 

I worry less and less these days if I have the time for this and that, and more about simply having Time. That’s largely because I’ve found that even if I can make time for this and that, I can’t make Time. Time is a gift. I don’t mean tomorrow’s time, or our total allotment of time on earth—though that is a gift as well. I mean this time. This day. The only time that we actually have, unless we ignore it and let it slip away, leaving us with no time at all.

Cyndi and I were talking last night about how cold this winter has been, and I realized that we’ve only just begun February. I longed for March, but then I realized, “Do I really want to just throw February away?” I don’t know how many more Februarys I get. Maybe I should treasure this one. I need to remember how to treasure even the cold, if cold is what fills the time. That’s a part of our problem with having time. We have it only by opening ourselves to what fills it. When we want to avoid the latter, we lose the former. We have no time left. Oddly, though, if we open ourselves to the time—if I remind myself to want February, at least while it’s February—then that transforms what fills February, as well. The cold is the embodiment of the time, and if I value the time, then I’ll learn to value the cold.

So often, when Jesus talks about time, he asks us to remember that time is a treasure. The rich man who fills his barns to secure his future—he loses both barns and future and misses the one the treasure that he couldn’t lose—the opportunity to love today. Likewise, Jesus reminds those who are anxious about their many things—their clothes, their food, their wealth—he reminds them to see the blessings of today, of this time, and to let those other things tend to themselves. To put it another way, if we fill our time with things, the things overwhelm our time. But if we treasure our time for itself, we will find treasures within it--treasures that he hadn't noticed when we were so preoccupied with our things.

Time is a treasure. It’s what God first creates, to hold whatever other treasures that God would give us. Do I tend to the treasure? Do I recognize that I can find God in it, if I’ll just open my eyes—put away distractions. Time—this time—this moment—now—it touches on eternity. Will I find the time for Time?