Time

This morning, for the first time in far too long, I slept until ten.  Usually at this time on a Saturday I would be dancing away at the good old studio.  But not today!  Due to St. Patrick's Day obligations, my fabulous dance instructor decided to give us all a break and cancel class.  Needless to say, she is currently my favorite person in the world. 


I was shocked to discover that it has been four days short of two months since I last posted.  This is a bit terrifying and proves that I have a very poor concept of time.  I thought it had been maybe a month since my last post.  Time goes by way too fast. 

The older I get, the more I realize that I despise time.  If I were to have a nemesis in this world, it would be time.  I picture it as a conniving, ugly mutant bunny rabit with one twiching eye that's twice as big as the other and one ear that covers the smaller eye.  It tiptoes around, trying not to step on its pitch fork tail, snatching things from people right when they'er almost in their grasps and causing people to miss the train of life.  He has long gnarly fingers for grabbing things and a nose that can sense tardy people from the other side of the planet.  He has no soul.  He relentlessly keeps the world in a strict order. 

When my siblings and I were younger, my dad used to read us The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  I used to love the scene in the darkness of the cave where Gollum and Bilbo exchanged riddles.  We would all try to figure out each riddle before we let my dad read the answer.  The one that had us totally stumped was the one about time;  "This thing all things devours: birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnaws iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays kings, ruins towns, and beats high mountains down."  Tolkein was a genius.  This sums up exacatly how I look at time.

If I were a more organized person, I might not mind time so much.  If I was more like Effie Trinket from the Hunger Games, I would love time.  But I'm not Effie.  Not only do I avoid brightly colored wigs like the plague, but I am also incredibly disorganized.  That can be discerned by how my room looks.  I try to tell my mother that I don't have time to be organized.  In reality, if I was organized, I'd have far more time. 

But where woiuld be the fun in that?  If everybody in the world was perfectly organized, then it would be slightly less obvious that we need God.  My disorganization is a part of what shows me that I'm not perfect.  Therefore, it is one more thing that points me to God.

Time is also one of those things that shows us the imperfections of this world.  Time holds the world in bondage just as much as sin does.  Time causes Tsunami's, time kills people, takes too long, time goes too fast, and time drives people mad.  Sometimes I feel like I'm being dragged along  and pushed and prodded by an unseen force.  A force that makes me make decisions I don't want to make. 

So the good news?  We have a God who is not bound by time.  A God who created time.  One who promises to free us.  So when I cry out that I have no more time, I know that someday, I won't have time to worry about.

Maybe that's why I look at Time as a Bunny rabbit....