Is time on your side?

What really, really ticks you off? I mean, what really gets under your skin?

Is it the guy who cuts you off in traffic? I just realized, with the threat of a snow storm here tomorrow, that I actually get angry at the weather for slowing down the progression of my plans for the week.
Does the repairman who wants a 10 hour window of time for his appointment drive you nuts?
How about waiting in the only open checkout line while five bored-looking employees saunter outside for a smoke break?

Now you will have noticed that nothing throws [a human] into a passion so easily as to find a tract of time which he reckoned on having at his own disposal unexpectedly taken from him. [It] anger[s] him because he regards his time as his own and feels that it is being stolen.

It occurs to me that perhaps the most common and pervasive lie among men is that we honestly believe our time is our own.

The man can neither make, nor retain, one moment of time; it all comes to him by pure gift; he might as well regard the sun and moon as his chattels.

Guilty as charged.

Not only is this a prolific lie, but at Predatory Lies, the goal is to, “uncover the lies that destroy our lives.” Is this lie all that destructive, really?

It doesn’t seem like it. I mean, we might stress less if we actually understood that all of our striving and fretting and hurrying accomplishes nothing.
We might present the Gospel more winsomely if we weren’t thinking about how the person’s question really came at a bad time.
We might not mourn over death as much as we do if we believed that our time is not our own and that what time we do have is a gift from a benevolent Father, from whom all good gifts come. (James 1:17)

The misconception that time is our own leeches the joy, value and posterity from our lives. “Lord, teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Ps. 90:12

All quoted wisdom in this article, aside from Scripture, is courtesy of C.S. Lewis in The Screwtape Letters.The Screwtape Letters.  

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Endless Beginning

Servant, Child

Lamb of mine.

Once I stepped into your time.

Never before had I curbed my power

Paid homage to a ruthless hour.

 

Beneath the burden of your yesterdays

And the looming knowledge of my own tomorrow,

I wept, I laughed and I shared your sorrow.

You cringe with ending, each night a mystery.

Does life await with next sun’s warmth?

 

I once inhaled the fog of death.

But of my own, breathed out life-breath.

In my plan of beginnings, life’s fruit a bounty

I first exhaled life’s breath.

I watched the lungs I gave to you

Expand.

 

Take it in! I smiled

All true and new.

Take it in and begin

With nothing to prove.

wondering if i wander

is this living by the Spirit

unsure where i am and

untethered against next wind’s gust?

or

is this?

to live by increments

a divided clock and protracted heart

degrees of devotion to each good deed?

or

somewhere in the middle –

is there quiet and peace?

I know there is!

for

I have a shepherd who

promises quiet water trickles near

but though i trod, i fear.

how?

to walk with him without wondering

to walk with him without wandering

his Spirit in me?

Life or Death

Here is the day.

And it wasn’t my first thought.

Is that shameless forgetfulness?

Is it proof of fearlessness?

~~~~~~~~

Only a few clipped hours until

3650 hours have slipped from the clock

87000 hours have chimed

Worldwide.

Hustle schedules,

Who cries today?

Who is more alone than I have ever been?

Who’s lap is empty? Arms are limp?

Lips unmet, who’s eyes unlocked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A moment stole joy and plans,

Two moments reformed worlds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The earth keeled 2000 years ago,

Rocked in its bed of space.

One death overshadowed every man.

Yet so few would see

The barrier rent, the tombs expel their dead.

Reverse of pain, the end of hell.

For hope, for God’s sake, Tell!