Slow The Current

School started late this year. After Labor Day, and I loved how our summer was extended. The kids were ready to return and felt excited rather than rushed into ending summer abruptly like usual. I was thankful for the extra time with them, only that Owen was missing since he started his first semester at college in mid-August.

Now that the kids are back at their learning in school, I can't believe how suddenly my laid-back days have turned into scheduling and time slots and rushing. The harshness of the alarm buzzing in the darkness each morning rustles me staggering into the kitchen to pack lunches by the dim stove light. Then the kids slowly make it downstairs and suddenly the race begins. The lunches...hurry! The breakfast...hurry! The books...hurry! The backpacks...hurry! The prayers...hurry! Suddenly, gone. Then I set off in my own hurry of squeezing in time with The Lord, with a friend, with my commitments, with my responsibilities. The moments of the day blur into one and I fall into my favorite chair...again, it's dark. 

Some days I feel like I have really missed it. Missed the moments that I have hurried by in order to honor this thing called "Time" who seems to judge me. The fail of not connecting deeper than the typical questions I ask of the kids each day. The fail of not staying longer at the table with Brad. The fail of priorities in the wrong order to please "Time". Then all of sudden my connection with one is by letter or phone call. And I am lingering longer because I want more "Time" with him. I don't have enough. I'm bankrupt on "Time". 

With the windows open, I hear the rushing of cars racing to their morning destinations. Racing, rushing, hurrying. We are always hurrying for the next. For the hot weather to cease. For the school year to start or finish. For a stage to end. For hard to stop. Everywhere I look, it's wanting bigger, better, faster, more. All the rushing. But, then I also hear the sweet, homemade wind chime in my tree. Softly clanging. Making it's statement that things can be slow. Reminding me that I can hold onto moments and stay there in order to slow this thief, "Time", down. I can trip him up and savor more. It is my choice. I can resist the current that is pulling me in order to see a little longer before it whips me downstream. God gives me strength against "Time" to hold onto what counts, if only I remember to not get swept away by it. 

I will hold on to the moments as they come. Today I will remember. Tomorrow I will need to remember or be reminded. And really, I don't think that I want more of "Time", I just want enough. I want enough to do this life well. I pray for help in that. 

"Time is an illusion."

-Albert Einstein