"Take My Moments and My Days"

Tonight, I am savoring the last few moments of the day. Moments in which the only noises are the fan in my laptop and the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard and the occasional muffled door closing and sound of water running. Moments that seem all too dear as I feel myself approaching sleep. In these moments, I can think more clearly in them than I can during all the rest of the day.

I want to think about time differently. I want not to resent these moments but to accept time's limitations and revel in the reality that I will never accomplish all I set out to do. In a day. In a week. In a lifetime.

As the ancient Hebrew poet intreats--was it David or another?--we must be taught to number our days in order to gain a heart of wisdom. We each have our allotted days, but how do we, in their passing, learn this lesson?

And I want to observe how it is possible to redeem the time in small ways. How I can sew a bit here and another bit there, a few hours on Saturday, a few moments on my lunch break, thirty minutes in the evening, and I can finish several projects in the course of a week.

I want to to observe, too, how happy I feel and how much more settled is my mental state when my hands are about the tangible business of creating things. How interesting it is that one's state of being is so inextricably connected to one's actions. How we are like God in this way: the I AM, the self-existent one, Who from His omnipotent being, created the world and all that is in it.
And how we who are, created, exist, in Him, find fulfillment in creative endeavors. I sit at my sewing machine and I think how satisfying, yes, how good, it feels to work at something and see it, under my hands, growing into something both useful and beautiful.

The Apostle Paul writes, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." And when I think of this, that the believer's involvement in doing good and meaningful things in life is part of his/her identity in Christ, I realize these fleeting moments of my days are just a few small grains of sand in the limitless expanse of an eternity completely in His keeping.


Me said…
I just read that Psalm this morning - Psalm 90. It was actually written by Moses, and it struck me as very strange that a man who spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness still felt that life was fleeting and transient as grass. I agree that it's hard to accept the incompleteness of our time; learning to accept that and to still use it well will take me a lifetime I think.

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