We struggle with days that are not long enough
Years divided and sectioned into months and seasons,
Weeks into days, then hours, and finally seconds.
Some days, O Lordy, they seem to be too long.
And next? Speed up that ticking time.
Forward and backward, minutes flash,
Melts into seconds,
We moan, where did Time go?
Somewhere, amid this morning, I think.
An average year of life lasts the same by clock design
It’s what you do with time. That’s what matters.
Not what time does to you.
It happens to all of us. Time gets blamed and lost.
Tho’ the length of time remains the same.
It’s what we do with the same ticking clock
That says the most about me, yes, and you.
Shocked, saddened, then rejoicing with hope,
Life slides through our Ticks of Time,
Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, and then finally, Weeks.
Before too long, those Weeks meld into Months, Seasons,
And finally, the Years. We keep ticking time ahead.
Within the ticking of time, we make room for events
A life remembered, the challenges faced, the stories,
Oh, the stories of time once shared together,
Will they ever stop? Yes. Everything, including time,
Time stops for each of us.
The ticking slows and grows silent. Then, suddenly.
It’s an eternity where time will tick no more.
A distant shore of something far more glorious.
But wait, does time really tick? No.
It’s that device we use to measure immeasurable time
Ticks indicate it’s working. An unwinding spring,
A weight lifted to slowly move with gravity,
Oh, remember this. Time makes no sound.
But clocks, yes, they can be loud.
Today, I pause the ticking clock, and remember,
Charles Dean Russell. A longtime friend.
He slipped into our teenage lives,
With talent, words, action, and love.
From seconds through years,
Amid the silent tick, let’s not forget the seasons,
Life is really about the seasons compiled by the ticking of time.
Never will I take for granted the lives that have touched me.
To each of you, thank you. I pray I’ve been equally there for you
As you have been to me.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NKJV
Therefore we do not lose heart.
Even though our outward man is perishing,
yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,
while we do not look at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen.
For the things which are seen are temporary,
but the things which are not seen are eternal.
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