It's very hard for my husband and I to know where the time went.
It seems that it was only yesterday that she was a snugly little bundle. My husband would come in from the barn tearing off his coveralls as he came. As soon as he hit the door, his arms were out and he would say "give her to me, give her to me." Then they would go somewhere to snuggle, sometimes the rocking chair, sometimes the couch and sometimes under the multicolored Afghan that used to fascinate her so.
Even as I sit here typing, I hear the tick tock, tick tock of the clock on the wall above my computer. I put it there to be a constant reminder that I have much better things to do than play on the computer. And no matter what I do, there is nothing that can stop the tick tock of time, even though I would like to be able to make it stand still, especially in moments like last night as my heart took a snapshot of the whole family laying over laughing at my rather eccentric 12 year old who is definitely a "free" thinker! He was the author of the flying ferret's and yes, we did catch him and neighbor girl in the shower naked and scrubbing each other--when they were three!!
I've been thinking about time a lot lately. It means so much to us. But to God, it doesn't exist. I wonder if He is puzzled when we ask for more of it and then turn around and wonder how we will keep from getting bored when time is eternal.
I've also been thinking about and noticing what I do with my time. Am I using it wisely. Do I consume my time in a way that shows God that I am grateful for what He has given me? Is the way I'm using my time now going to affect the future tick tocks of life in a positive way? There's nothing I can do to retrieve time, but I can affect the time that is coming in the future. It's sobering, and sometimes just plain scary.
Time changes things. My daughter has gone from that cute little bundle to a lovely young lady. Instead of picking up after her, I wish she were here to pick up after. Instead of cooking for her, I now talk to her about cooking. Instead of taking time to play with her, I wish she would take more time to play with me.
I think there is just something special about the oldest child. She was my guinea pig, of sorts. I think we grew up together instead of me raising her. I still remember the excitement of all the "firsts" of her life--her first step, first word, first "owie", first friend, the first time she kissed my cheek, and the list goes on and on. She was my whole world.
(Don't freak over the light above my hubby's head! I can frame a photo a little better than that! We did that on purpose! We figured that if you can make millions by selling the Virgin Mary on toast, we could make a fortune when people realized that he is angelically perfect! Maybe Barack ought to re-consider the vice president nominee).
Where does all the time go? Into the record keeping books of God. He records every minute of every life. And some day, He will review them all with each of us. We may forget, but He does not. May we live each one as the gift and responsibility that it truly is! May each moment have Christ in the very center of it, no matter where it leads us or what it finds us doing. And may each moment find us loving--loving our children, loving our spouse, loving the household of God, loving what God has given us in His Son, loving the tasks-no matter how mundane--that He has given us to do because we know that each one is His very best for us.