You tend to look back on moments like these and say: “That was one of the best times of my life.” Rarely do we realize it at the time, but God has given me special privilege this morning as I look out my 2nd story window into the branches of a mango tree and the basketball court / futbol field beyond. The sun’s outstretched arms play off the tree’s branches causing shadows to dance in our room. Deep in the book of Exodus, Erin lays in the bunk across from me writing God-inspired thoughts in the margins. Telfer trots by riding on an invisible horse created from bad memories of the one he rode yesterday. Only this time, he’s not getting bucked off.
So often I wish I had the authority to stop time. Panting from all my comings and goings, I would desperately yell “Stop!” and all would freeze. I would catch my breath, probably break down, and then ask time politely and desperately to slow down. “I only get to experience this once in my life!” I would plea.
Then I think of how short life truly is and quickly resort to Ecclesiastes where all is meaningless. We are children and then we’re not. We hasten adulthood while in the prime of our emerging teenage years, and then wistfully think on our days of youthful freedom during adulthood.
This isn’t another commentary on the human interaction with time, but a cry of
“I’ve seen it played out before where people grow old and regret and wish and lament over time and instead, I want to shout that I love this ‘right-now-time’!” I love this community of my generation seeking to find their identity in Christ and among the body of believers. This one day being sick of each other, demanding our space and the next day laughing over how ridiculous we were the day before. This learning to function in a world of humanity as
Sons and Daughters of the King. For if we walk in that true calling, then we have more power and more authority than fear lets us think. We find ourselves afraid to boast in Christ that it may be construed as pride and conceit. We dumb down our God given gifts and abilities all to portray a false humility that hurts us more than impresses others. I mean, what if we just stood up and shouted, “I’m incredible at ________!” because we
knew it. We had just hidden it so long as to not disrupt religion or to dodge the religious fingers from shaking at us. Think about it. If we hide what we are good at we are doing a disservice not only to God, but also to the body as a whole. If each one of us is a branch – a crucial part to the Body’s function – and we are not functioning as best we can, then we are leaving a giant hole. It’s like a cancer patient lying in a hospital bed and one day, one of their crucial medicines wakes up and says, “I think I’ll slack off today and not fulfill my role.”
I’m learning that pride is a tool the devil often uses to scare us into hiding. That humility is saying “I AM GREAT AND WONDERFUL AND ANNOINTED…
because JESUS
.”
It’s funny how you start off talking about time then end in Jesus. Maybe if time doesn’t slow down for me, I’ll be okay as long as all my roads end in Him. In all my wanderings and wrong turns and times of falling flat on my face, He is the point – the Truth that overwhelms me to get up and run again, this time with
more grace and more authority.
