Ghosts of Time.

Life is never going to work on our timetable. In my twenty years of life, I feel like this has been the hardest thing for me to grasp. We can plan and organize and crunch and do everything we know how to do in our earthly power, but time is not ours to hold or control.


I have a post in my drafts that I was intending to post two Mondays ago. I started writing it finally last night. Each weekday, generally without fail, I wake up at 8:00 on the dot, slip into some grey slippers and fluffy robe, grab my yoga mat, and pad out into the living room as quietly as possible so as to not wake my sleeping husband. From there I pour a cup of already-made coffee, prepped the night before. The dishes are done, the house is straightened, and I can just open the windows for the morning breeze and ease into my green velvet chair for some time with Jesus. At precisely 9:30, I switch to exercise gear and begin the day’s workout. From there, I can take on the day. But those two hours never change. Until this morning. Having slept through the alarm, eyes didn’t open until 9:38. Instantly, I felt control lost. I walked into the kitchen to discover more disarray- the dishes undone and coffee unmade. Jesus time was rushed, and everything just felt off. As I type this post at 1:30, feeling like it’s 11 AM, aware that it’s over a week late, I am reminded of the simple truth: control is an illusion. Things come up. We do the best we can, but some days we slip and forget our routine, sleep through the alarm, post a few weeks late, and life doesn’t care. Because the reality is, it is not the end of the world. As minor as these things are, they served as the heralding chorus that we are only human.


We can be the best time managers in the world, take the utmost care of what the Lord has given us, be the most devoted friends, children, spouses, and siblings, but time won’t care. Time will keep going. Beloved ones will pass away, and time will keep on, and we will have to rise again the next morning feeling their absence. Deadlines will pass and victories will either be won or lost, but time will keep on.


This is not our final destination. Each moment here is only a fleeting shadow, the best along with the worst of them. What was once pain so deep I thought it might overtake me now is only a distant memory. Days I thought I would forever feel the adrenaline of are now simply a sweet fragrance from somewhere far away. This entire earth is a ghost of what’s to come, where the knives will be utterly forgotten and the scars removed, and the joys will hold the permanence we were designed to wish for. Sooner than we can grasp, time will crash to a halt and we will stand before the glory of our Maker. At last we will taste the colors with the fullness He designed for us. We will dance without fear and drink from the crystal remembrance of all He’s already done, He who even time is forced to submit to and loves us with a passion beyond comprehension. Until that day, I will strive against time to glean every ounce of beauty and fire this life has to offer. He isn’t finished with us yet.


Until next time.


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