Our grandfather clock has boldly reminded me that another hour of life is gone. I have silenced the quarter hour reminders and will most likely soon silence the hourly herald of the coming of the grim reaper. But wait, that’s really morose. There is a completely different way to understand this. When we were children we wanted time to rush by. When asked how old we were we proudly said, “I am three and a half.” I wanted to be six so I could go to school. (Only rich children went to kindergarten.) I wanted to be sixteen so I could get a driver’s license. I wanted life to rush onward.
Something strange happened when I became a father. I no longer wanted time to rush to my boy’s first birthday. I wanted to savor every hour. My wife and I never accepted invitations to dinner or go to anywhere the boys were not invited. Why should we spend precious hours with others who didn’t mean nearly as much to us as our boys?
Now I sit in a very quiet house. The dog occasionally stirs. Other than that there is no sound. The sounds have all moved to other homes. I need to reorient myself to the realty of Jesus’ promises? In John 5 He promised that when we accept Him we have already crossed over from death to life. Is not our grandfather clock ticking off the hours until we will move beyond this pale of sorrow and pain? Should I not be excited about the coming of a whole new experience when the only use for time will be to make sure we meet together somewhere?
I think I shall reset the grandfather clock to announce the passing of the quarter hours.
Written by Roger Bothwell on March 22 2011
Spring of Life Ministry, PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574
Rogerbothwell.org