In January of 2015, the General Manager of the property I worked for had a large sign and an equally impressive countdown clock installed at the door that connected the admin offices to the rest of the property. It said:
I was quite pregnant at the time, and this sign and its giant digital numbers stood between the bathrooms and I…so I saw it a lot. It filled me with dread every time I walked under it, or even caught it in the periphery of my sight on the way across the office floor. The worst part, to me, was knowing that these feelings of anxiety I was experiencing were not an unexpected side effect of the sign – they were the sole purpose.
It wasn’t the reason I left my job, but I know that there were 13 days left on the sign when I walked under it for the last time.
Time is a fickle and stubborn thing. It passes whether you “use it” or not, and flows at its own relentless pace. It doesn’t seem to be fairly distributed to anyone and the idea that how you choose to spend your time defines your priorities can feel offensive and shallow; survival doesn’t leave much room for choice and plenty of people spend their time doing little else.
Still, it is a gift. A gift of a precious, non renewable resource that, just like Manna from Heaven, must be received and consumed in faith every day, trusting in a new dawn tomorrow. We can’t throw spare time into a coin purse, nor can we loan it to anyone through any means other than service, and love.
And with the passage of time comes something else extraordinary: change. Inevitable growth, and change.
So if you find yourself frozen, whether it is under solid ice, an unwelcome decision or even an imposing sign, there is comfort in knowing that the sun will rise, and you won’t be stuck forever.