I’m in the kitchen cooking supper and I’m wondering where my day went.

Sure seemed busy.

Things were accomplished: laundry, cleaning, phone calls, writing, feeding cows, chores, but where did the time really go?

If it were an object gone missing, like my son’s pocket knife, I’d look under couch cushions, stick my hands in coat pockets, and poke my head in odd places–like behind the commode or inside a the dog food sack.

Time hasn’t gone missing though–it’s there, it just passes quickly when I’m not looking. Even when I’m conscious of it, it slips through my fingers. In years past, I’ve been angry about it. Frustrated. Where did my hours go? I’m trying to get my to-do list done!

Yesterday I’m sitting at the computer getting ready to write and the Lord’s voice whispers, “Time isn’t an enemy. It’s a gift.” I pause. I’m not sure what to say… Or do. I don’t do anything and my muscles relax.

I breathe that in like the aroma of coffee or tea and let it sink it. Time is a gift.

A GIFT.

 

Here I’d been trying to lasso it, wrangle it, or run it into a corral to keep it locked up. I’d been trying to wrestle time and instead it’s been wrestling me.

Here’s my new plan:

*Take the first moments I’m awake to be thankful for the day and pray.

*Make a to-do list and proceed in an order that fits around scheduled blocks of time in my day, but be flexible.

*Be present. I’m trying to be in the moment, rather than jumping ahead in my brain to the next thing that has to be done before my body even gets there.

*Stop. When things aren’t working, stop and go to something else.

*Make time for truly important adventures. Time with kids. Date nights with my cowboy.

*Countdown. I need time to decompress after the day and relax before heading to bed.

 

Each of us will find different ways to make our days precious. However that happens, it’s a delight to know that time is not against us, it is a gift.