Time.

What is time?

Not the minute, the hours, the day. –

But the perception of events.

When I was young, each event had a monumental affect upon me. A small gesture, a broken item, could be a catastrophic event.

A bad grade in school could bring the wrath of a parent. Devastation would certainly be at hand if I made anything less than a "B" on any test. Expectations were high, and the world certainly would end if I did not meet the presumed standard.

In adulthood, I married and came to know the thrill of parenthood. Certainly, my children’s emergency room trips were catastrophic to my young and naïve maternal instincts. Wisdom had not set in as gained only through the course of heavy experience. Untold agonies I could never have outlined befell my simple family over the years. And yet, we survived, weathered, and still bonded. None of those horrors managed to tear us apart.

Now, I look at the reflection of life’s losses. Death, disease, insurmountable obstacles. What is time among all these?

As I play Mendelssohn on my piano, I am filled with the ebbs and flow, the tide of life. I have known disease, family death, deep disappointment and loss. I know of only one stable factor in the certainty of life’s next threat. God is my stronghold and has always been my foundation of strength. The catastrophes of the world grow smaller each day as I have come to respect life’s cycle. Gaining peace in the midst is simply a matter of surrender to God, a choice beyond time.

August 9, 2008