...just like an arrow. Piercing through even the most stubborn of lives, the most stalwart of chain-mail-tradition. It leaves it's impact in the experiences we have, the people we meet, and the places we see. Our perspectives change. Our understandings grow.
Time is essential to the very foundation of how we know how to exist. How to be. In our language, culture, thoughts, the concept of time is deeply rooted because the passage of time is often the only constant in a person's life. In the life of a community. In the life of a society.
But it didn't have to be so.
God didn't have to design our universe this way... but He did. And God, not being given to fancies and whims, chose to do so with purpose, as with everything else that He does.
Time is a gift. Cliché, but true.
Does that mean I shouldn't sit down and be playing Gratuitous Space Battles for another hour? I don't know. Should I be working 50 hour work weeks so that I can pay the lease on my two new cars? [Alright, so that one's a pretty loaded question...] Should I be working on that 10000 piece 3-D mystery puzzle in my basement? If I really enjoy doing something, is that reason enough to be doing it? (even if it's something as innocuous as puzzle-building?)
Does it even mater? Am I just being trivial?
When does hanging out turn from discipleship into distraction? Is there something in this about being too caught up in the things of God?
Time...there is a time for every season. Do we get to dictate what those seasons are?
Hmm...
