~ ~ ~ ~
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
My life is being read back to me
by a speed-reader becoming more adept
with practice; soon a master,
fading lines racing,
the pages turning faster,
the rate of turning accelerating,
quickly, inexorably revealing my story,
which, hopefully, was, and is,
And will be, all to Jesus’ glory.
* * * *
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
You’re right, those of you who say I spend a lot of time reliving my past,
reminiscing in nostalgic reflection,
Recalling recollected memories.
That’s not such a bad thing is it,
considering there is much more of my past behind me
than there is of my future ahead of me?
(Of course I’m speaking Earthily and physically, not spiritually.)
Jesus, my saviour, knew that feeling, I think.
In His early thirties.
Lines racing.
During His ministry.
Pages turning inexorably.
A man (Man) of time – living in time.
A fellow victim of time?
A fellow captive?
A servant of time?
(If a victim, a captive, or servant, He was a perfect one)
At least, a subject of time, bound by its rules.
Hardly as old as I am.
Half my age, His time was running out.
Time leaks away, as lifeblood from a relentlessly-dripping wound.
Yet He knew He was going to live “forever”
(was there a moment of horror when He thought He wouldn’t?)
in a place where the words “past”, and “future”,
and “before”, and “after”, and “forever”
have no meaning except in the context of life in the world
– the physical, materially-created universe.
In Heaven, there is only “now”, I reason.
(Even then, a special and unique kind of now.)
(Some say, even here, that “now” is all that exists)
But time is only for The World, even though
God is able, I think, to move in and out of this time-ridden world at will.
Things have happened.
Other things will possibly happen . . .
Yes! This next line happened!
Sequence!
Time has kept all my lines from happening at once!
As I draw closer to my last line here, literally, in this post, and here, figuratively, on Earth,
I reflect upon the time of my birth,
childhood,
teen-hood,
adulthood,
the time of my re-birth,
a new, different, more real childhood,
and all the times between all the “hoods”.
Then the time after.
In comparison, the time I’ve been blessed with after having been born-again
is like living with one foot – like the frozen, anticipated, next step – in the joy of the timeless place
with Jesus and Father God.
A part of me has become rather fond of time, though it is a capricious master.
Reliable and steady, yet inexorable, unrelenting, and unforgiving.
It flies.
It waits for no-one.
It certainly is not waiting for me.
But God is.
Patiently, forgivingly, (which are, indeed, “time words”),
and lovingly (which is a timely, and an eternal word.)
“Reliving”, or thinking about the past is interesting and useful.
Living “in the now” is also important,
but to live in the “eternal now”,
to live with the Highest Lord, is what I really want.
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