Our preacher has started a new sermon series on time and what we, as Christians, do with and should do with our time. His premise is that if a person lives 70 years, after allotting time for sleep and work, we essentially have 12 million minutes left in a lifetime that is “ours”. So what do we do with those remaining minutes? We eat. We take showers and fix our hair. We do chores. We watch television. We mow the lawn. We do laundry. We care for our children. We commute. We play. We worship. We pray. And many of us, we blog.
Time is such an interesting concept. We all know the phenomenon of “feeling” as if time has flown by because we’re having fun. Or the opposite when time seemingly stands still when things are boring or dull. It’s 8 am here in Nashville, but it’s 2 pm in London and it’s already tomorrow in Sydney, Australia. Time heals wounds, physical and emotional. Doctors mark the moment we were born by the clock. And the moment we die.
Time can make an extraordinary difference in the way something “turns out”. If you let the bread dough sit long enough for the yeast to rise, you’ll get a beautiful, fluffy loaf of bread. If you bake it too early, it’ll be flat and dense. If you take the entire prescription of your antibiotic, even though you’re already feeling better, most likely you’ll not get sick again. If you stop the medication, without giving it time to work through your body, you may end up back in your doctor’s office. The organ in the Schermerhorn Symphony center sat for entire year after being installed without being played. It needed time to rest. Time to settle. Time to acclimate to its surroundings. An entire year. A little more than half a million minutes, before one single note was played.
A time for everything.
Time to live.
Time to laugh.
Time to love.
Time for a break.
So yes, you spent all this time reading this post just to so that I could say…
We’ll return to our regularly scheduling blogging after…some time.