As a preschooler, I bore a remarkable likeness to my big brother at that age. One day back then, a sepia family portrait on the wall caught my eye. I proudly pointed to the youngest male and proclaimed, “That’s ME!” Imagine my shock when my only brother, seven years older, remarked, “No it’s not. That’s me!” I protested as if my existence depended on it, despite seeing just one boy and only four children in the picture. (I was fifth-born.) It took an older sister to gently explain that the boy was indeed my brother, since the photograph was taken before my birth. My young mind couldn’t conceive of a family photo without me in it. I was insulted!
That may speak of a child’s mind, the human condition in general, or simply my own sad state of self-absorption from an early age! But the truth is, there was a time that I was not in the picture and there will be a time that I’ll no longer be in the picture.
To a young child, thirty seems old! Even as a teenager, I remember pondering the far-off date when I would turn forty. It seemed so abstract; I could scarcely imagine it. Yet that milestone now lies further in my past than it did in my future at the time. I’ve considered time’s seeming acceleration as we age. My conclusion? A day, as we grow older, comprises a smaller percentage of one’s cumulative life.
And yet the length of our day has never changed. Each hour holds the same potential as always, and we alone determine its use. Even when circumstances or others impose on our day, we have a choice how to respond and with what attitude we’ll pass that time.
Before rejoining the traditional workforce two years ago, I made little distinction between days of the week. With much less free time now, I can tell you that weekends have taken on new meaning! Part I spend recharging— whether through a little extra sleep or some form of entertainment. Other hours are consumed with household tasks. I try to reserve a portion for reading and creative pursuits, such as writing, music, or art.
I can’t say that I live most days with the inevitable in mind—that my days are numbered. But I want to.
In Psalm 90 Moses reflects on the brevity of life, entreating God, So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Paul echoes this thought as an instruction: So then, be careful how you walk, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is (Ephesians 5:15-16).
I don’t know when, but I am going to die. After that, unless they Photoshop me in, I won’t be in anybody’s new pictures.
God’s will is for each of us to follow the unique sanctified desires He’s put in our hearts! There’s not enough time to do everything, so He’s given us the power of choice. Pray and listen to your heart. What’s God telling you to stop doing, to do more of, or to step into that you may not have done before?
Wonderful, JB! After spending the last few days culling through 40 years of family photo albums, it’s a reminder to me of how fast time passes. I noticed myself tossing LOTS of photos of things (or people) that seemed important to me years ago, but no longer are. Also pulled out photos to send to sibs (like you) who will (or whose kids will) appreciate them more than mine. I feel the “clock” winding down and want to set things in order, and to spend my time where it matters most. Appreciate your creative thoughts on “time”.
Way to go, Kathy! I have a feeling decluttering our life’s picture of the unimportant will expose more of what really matters.