I call it "my time." I talk about how I use "my time", or how I waste "my time." I write about how I schedule "my time."
And yet, in moments of being still, I realize with startling clarity, the arrogance of those words "my time." For in those moments I feel the Presence of One who transcends all time. The One who moves through time and yet for Whom there is no time.
He pauses near me, or is it I who pause, and in the being still am able to recognize His Presence. And time stands still.
For in Him time becomes irrelevant.
In it's place comes clarity.
And I begin to see what really matters.
Not the hands on the clock, the numbers on the screens.
But the touch of hand, the caress of the breeze, the ray of light through the trees.
The moments.
The now.
The rocking of the crying baby, kissing of the bruised knees, listening to stories and dreams,
sharing a moment.
Let time move on without me.
I choose to be here now.
In this moment.
And He is here with me.
"my time"
ReplyDeleteOuch. You got me there. I will ponder this...
Yes, I, too, claim it as 'my time,' though it really is not. You words are beautifully spoken.
ReplyDeleteI’m here from Ann’s I know it’s Saturday – but I’m playing catch up – there were so many “Thank you” posts to read I didn’t even start reading the Wednesday linky until today.
ReplyDeleteAll the phrases we use for time, it flies, it gets killed, it gets used - IT IS MINE - all are not quite accurate. But what you said is so true - we can choose to lengthen our perception of time - we can slow down our flow within the flow that doesn't slow down. Amen.
{smile}
Thank you for this today.
God Bless and keep you and all of yours