Hurtling headlong

When it was dark outside last night at 7:30 I felt like someone had grabbed me by the collar and the britches and thrown me headlong into something that I had no desire to inhabit. I ran around around the house screaming (if only in my head) "fall back! fall back!" when my wife chuckled and simply said "Not yet." Ugh - not yet. I would have to wait a little longer for my precious daylight to inhabit my evenings. A little while longer still until I celebrate December 22, 2008 when, minute by minute, the darkness will give way to the delightful day. But what of it? Can I celebrate the darkness much like I was taught to celebrate the heat? Or is this altogether different?

In the midst of my days time continues its march. Thanks be to God that it serves His purposes and His alone. It will find its fulfillment and lay down to rest when it is swallowed into eternity. Its legs must be so tired and its feet so swollen by now. Yet it still makes its way, its ever quickening way, to the place it longs to be...the rest it cries out for: its Master's side.

Time, as my blood-bought friend, reminds me how precious he is and, more importantly, how precious they are. For there is an ever-dwindling number of times when I will share the 7:30 darkness with them. An ever-decreasing number of days when we will wrestle and play amidst the couch cushions. And only so many moments when I can do all that I can to imitate You, Dad. Help me to love them the way You love me and to pray that they will embrace You.


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