I'm a bit time-obssessed. As I look around my office as I write this, I spy 5 clocks in front of me and one on my wrist. I've always been that way. I'm chronically early for appointments and really get stressed when I'm running late. I worry about getting to the airport with enough time and fret about the time between changing planes. I like meetings to start and end on time. And I confess to chaffing at people who are habitually late or drag meetings on beyond their stated end-time. Oh yeah, I have issues with time.
But a crack has developed in my armor, in the names of three granddaughters. When I am with them, when I am holding them or, in Elise's case, walking or playing with her....time stops! I am so drawn into the mystery of these little lives, all my time-issues vanish. I think I'm probably a lot nicer to be around when I'm that way!
Part of my issue with time is my expectation. I expect certain things to operate in certain ways and take certain amounts of time. And when they don't, I get agitated. The text I am still wrestling with for Sunday is from John 12:20-33 and it's the first time Jesus says in John that "the time has come for glory." And then he describes it!