A Wrinkle in Time

"There is a time for everything..." a passage often quoted in Christian and non-Christian circles across the globe. "A time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh, a time to cry...a time to keep and a time to throw away" (my paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 3:2-6)

I yelled for my kids this morning. "Quick, hurry, come look, hurry." We barreled out the front door to see the second of 2 flocks of geese flying south. I could hear them coming. When I finally caught the 1st formation they were dis-jointed--2 sides of the V flying separate. The calling was loud--almost directive let's say. The second V sounded less anxious--maybe in order. It is their time; time to fly south...to pass through another season.

At some point we begin moving on--new times in our live, new pieces that are disjointed from the past...ones that will never form with the past.

Time continues consistent and sure. God alone can change the day or the rising of the sun tomorrow. We don't have to like the timing of a loved one passing; whether it's a long tiring, loyal journey with its own frustrations or a sudden flip-upside down-"Who's in control"-time warp-event. At some point, however, we must embrace the time schedule that happened.

My son is learning the consequences of NOT paying attention to time/day. Tough lesson. I got very frustrated at first--feeling like I didn't train him to be responsible. Then I pondered this morning ...if our lives always went smoothly we would coast. It is in the hills and bumps and curves that we learn. I read somewhere this week an article that called these variations "interruptions."

We've got to hold the wheel at the curve (to the curve?) and trust--we don't know what's around the corner. The uphill climbs take a little extra effort, but so worth the view--a perspective of the God Who Cares, the God who allows one to look behind and realize, "I made another climb. I certainly know I didn't make it up that hill alone--too many majestic Fingerprints along the way. Besides, my bootstraps broke."

I was at a memorial of my friend's father-in-law recently. An older gentleman sat in front of me--very cute--dashing even in his older age. The wrinkles were not lifted or hidden...there they were; wrinkles of time-worn skin; folds of memories made with friends and family...a face feeling the wind on the water and expressing all the vestiges of experiences of life. Seasons multiplied in layers. He was visibly moved by his friend's passing. He was present to celebrate a life.

It takes time to remember--time to reorder a day to be at a bedside or a memorial. It's time that matters. Time going through pictures and cards--remembering...and eventually not forgetting, but placing the sorrows aside and meeting up with the rest of the flock--flying south. We'll come back to remember--each time the RIGHT time.

My odd pondering questions: What are friendships made of when there is little time? If we are friends with God, then what is the Sabbath: a day, an hour, a set amount of time? An attitude? Yes, I have some thoughts...but I'll leave the questions to you for now.

Please pray for widows and widowers in your area...and especially their children. There are many that are hurting. Please pray with me as the church seeks to understand how to help...

YOU are a gift to me.
Annie