Time lost. I sent out a Tiny Letter (my bimonthly newsletter) this week exploring the notion that Easter was about more than simple resurrection. Easter was about more than empty tombs and manic disciples searching for a body. Easter is a more eternal declaration. It's the declaration that time is a failure, that it bends to something more eternal. And if time is a failure, there is no such thing as a dead end.
These are the things I believe most. And yet, there's still a harsh human reality: We swim in the experience of time. And so, how can we not mourn the little deaths time brings? The end of summer vacation. The days your children leave the nest. The moment you say goodbye to your parents. The moment you kiss your spouse for the last time. These are reminders of time's cruelty, thin though it may be.
This week, I've been thinking more and more about time. I've been wondering how I might live if I believed it were running out. I've pondered how I might be more present to my wife, my kids, and my friends. How would I pray? Would I look for signs of resurrection in the world around me? Would I try to create some of my own works of resurrection?
I don't have all the answers to these questions, but I'm working a few out. I hope you will too, because on this planet--the spinning minute hand of our solar system's clock--time is our precious reality, our waning commodity. How will you use it?
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