I’ve been pondering on abstract ideas like time and its complicated relationship with our existence. Time and its fragmented seconds that the human race constantly tries to hold on to. It’s why we write love letters and keep… them. It’s why we write our names on bathroom walls, get tattoos and piercings…..and why we can’t help ourselves ,but to scribble on those permanent marker pads in OfficeMax. We want to get noticed. We want to be unforgettable. We want to be remembered ,like a smile that lingers after its laughter. But yet in competition with this invisible force–we find not only ourselves but the things around going and going on. With a rapid speed, unlike that of a bullet in a comparison.
At least that was the explanation I had created for the crushed petals in the pages of my sketchbook from the park .The pretty pink petals with green bulbs filled with promised spring were now an ashen gray. How did they do it? I tried my hardest to remember some random fact from all of the movies I had seen or weird facts that I had heard. Was it possible for these flowers to last longer? Why had I picked them–because they stood out to me amidst my tear-filled eyes. It was like heaven’s clouds resting on our trees. …and honestly, it bothered me that they had died so fast. I was upset that I couldn’t make them last longer. …
It had already been an off week and it seemed like other things had been falling apart as well. I wish I had more control over these things as well as others…I wonder if this inside feeling that something–something is supposed to last. Something is supposed to be–in its forever state either in time or location. I wonder if it’s our hearts, admitting that we don’t know it all. It takes guts to admit that something is missing, and its takes a strange faith to search it out.Yet, daily, we get caught in the mill of life and its repetitive redundancy.
Maybe…. that’s why we quickly snatch up these happy things,no matter how small. Confusing its instant gratification for happiness..making the chase, like the Egyptians. They had a single idea of time and paid homage to it so many ways. It had reflected in everything, this quest for permanence….They were striving for something unchanging.
Isn’t that poetic? To understand and govern such powerful thing like time? To give things that we feel are important a long-lasting ability. Like love, health, money , status, power….or relationships. Yet, even today we found emptied tombs, with dust for bodies and mountains of gold. They left this earth empty-handed, colliding with a reality they hadn’t encountered before in their life. Their plans fell through, their understanding fell short.
I had a card that was given to me two years ago. The words were sweet and endearing from a friend that I had only known for a short time. As simple a gift, it was, had meant so much because in this card it held my validation and purpose. I was a dear friend. I was a sister. Isn’t interesting that time never dies–but things connected to time often do? Well, one year turned to two and a steady text and calls simmered down to a low-level of nothing. Did I forget to catch up–or did they forget to care? I don’t know. But I progressed, I think even though outside things remained the same. Or so I thought, but honestly, nothing stayed the same not even me. They had changed and so had I and I felt this desperate need to fix it.
And you know what…I couldn’t.
Recently I had a visit to the hospital and I was told that certain eating habits that I had picked up were not good for me. I said I’d work on it and even brought a chart to keep track of my “marvelous” plan. Time went by and you know what…I didn’t do it.They were some art opportunities knocking and they looked promising. I pushed to make it so–trying my best to keep in touch with the customer and you know what I couldn’t.
Pressures at work, duties at church, scheduled hangouts, meetings, and deadlines were coming up and you know what I was missing them. ..one by one….I was making up excuses to hide what I always knew was the truth. Each day was a struggle and I was trying to control all of these things only to learn one thing .I’m a really, really bad juggler. …as simple as that is I found myself upset. Because my things weren’t working. My plans and ideas were hitting a brick wall and everything…everything…was falling apart and I was losing productive seconds in the day to these stupid mistakes that would have some major consequences. Bottom line, my plans were falling through. My understanding had too falling short.
Now I was gaining a clear sense of reality. (sigh)
My pastor has just started a series on time and it took us to the beginning….in Genesis, where one mistake had changed everything.
Genesis 3: 15-17, explains all of the consequences that were given because of an act of disobedience that could not be taken back. Adam is essentially told that his life would be marked by hard work, sweat and that he would toil with the ground, but it would not always promise green. The ground was cursed, bringing forth thorn and thistle—
And then the woman,
I say this because this is not a slant or a put-down. She had been called the woman many times before. But today, she would stand out from every other being that would be made–not because of fame–or even in rare beauty the bible doesn’t describe much about her actually. She was to be his helper in this new beautiful age, an expression of love and purpose by the Creator, and yet she acted outside of what she had been made for and honestly she was robbed. I know what’s that feels like. I could relate to acting out of character and being robbed of what I had thought was mine or what I had a right to. Being prideful.
It’s never mentioned what motivated her to make such a move. Maybe it doesn’t matter. The consequences either way were so great…
She’s told that she too will bear a pain, a unique pain that would come with birth.
Birth requires a patience, and a unique trust to be formed between that of which you carry and yourself. It’s the same way with dreams, you can have a vision in mind, and because you’re not ready or prepared to parent the vision and to guide it….it miscarries.It’s about being prepared for the window of birth to take place. An experience I am sure that all of us are familiar with on some level.
After the worst moment in time, a very peculiar thing happens in the next verse….
vs. 20, Adam calls his wife, Eve, the Mother of all living things.
There are 2 things I noticed:
First, Adam understands the lesson here. He has accepted the responsibility of the mess that was made and continues on–fulfilling the commission. There’s a lesson here, after making mistakes we shouldn’t carry ourselves in defeat.We cannot control time. We cannot take our words, actions and mislead ways back but we can rebound. However, it shouldn’t be in our strength. We should rebound in his grace, that has always been evident since the beginning….always been sufficient.
Secondly, Wow. He must have known, or had a glimpse of hope that somehow this was going to change in their favor. That God was faithful, though he was just. In time, he would make all things right. He was right, what was promised to the serpent came to pass. And through the lineage of Adam, according to the book of Luke, Jesus Christ had arrived in time and on time. What an appropriate response to this life. After the worst of it all, I want to be able to speak and do faith. Singing in the dark places and twirling blissfully in the light.
I too, like the Egyptians, grabbed my moments, categorized and filed them. Weighed them, to see just what my life look like on the scale of time. Honestly, becoming frightened that I had not measured up. I then foolishly created these “master” plans to fix everything. I too acted out of character and was met with immediate consequence and in some cases grief. But like Adam, I too have to take responsibility for my actions and decisions that led me here. And like Eve, I bit the fruit of pride, I took matters into my own hands and relied on my natural gift of wisdom to decipher what is “important” and what is not. But like Jesus, I know the Father, who looks down on us longingly with love and I know that he has forgiven me for my mistakes. I believe He chases us. I believe He is after every single one of us. This is why over and over again I come back to this and this is why I stay.
This is not about feelings….it is about faith. It is about believing in all those things that Jesus says about me and about the things he has for me.What a powerful notion, that we were ordained, called into being, for a plan– The one that was written for us since the foundation time. That’s one thing I like about plants, I’d be the first to admit that I do not have a green thumb, but its training for the soul. Teaching us small bouts of faith, the beauty of expectation, the beauty of the wait. But also reminding us, that when we are separated from the source, the root or the vine….we are susceptible to die.
I am in awe.
If I am going to trust in Him then I am going to trust in Him. There’s sound to rebounding, it is the beat of my heart in step with His time and pace. There’s a beauty to the wait, it is the wonder of fulfilled thing in its full essence, like a rose that opens its petals after a hard winter. There isn’t defeat in waiting or passing through long periods of time , maybe I shouldn’t consider these dreams and visions of mine as lost.
I recorded a movie over a week ago, called Remember Sunday. It was beautifully tragic, as it depicted the main character who had a serious case of short-term memory loss. He would leave notes all over the house for himself to try to remember in the morning….one day he meets a beautiful woman of course that he would eventually forget, and they have a conversation about comets. There was a quote that stuck with me.
“Sometimes comets are thought to be lost. And then they come back into orbit. And when they’re calculated, scientists found that they weren’t lost at all. They’re found.”
Maybe dreams are that way too. Maybe the will of God is like that as well. This long unwinding ball of yarn, of time , at its end there will be clarification. In the meanwhile, I will continue to collect his promises to me and make an account of his goodness in me. I’m not going to call this time in my life, anything other than what it is, a purpose design by the Divine Architect.
Here’s to showing this week, whose really boss and here’s to us believing that we are doers, promise keepers, dragon slayers and praying that we finish these moments in time in step. Forging our paths in His love and becoming that perfected thing in the end.
French word for time is l’heure (sounds like lure)