I have spent too many days out of sorts with time in one way or another. When I was in elementary school, children made little sense to me. Drawn to the conversations and complications of the adult world, I skipped through time, burdened with self-made responsibilities, longing to be grown up.
I passed right over the traditional college years altogether (at least 3 of them), choosing to marry young. Then I spent my 20’s trying to cram more hours into every day as I worked 80-100 hours a week trying to save my little slice of the world. All of the time in the world could not have saved it.
When my children came, I mentally held my infants at arms’ length, silently pleading with them to become proper humans so that I might know what to do with them. Now that my oldest is nearing adulthood, I am often silently pleading for more time to enjoy his company.
I have had moments I wish had been days, a handful of days I wish had been years. Then, there are entire years I wish I could erase. The years that followed my darkest days I spent wishing away if only to put space between the pain and the present.
That brings me to today. I deeply desire to let time be what it is, to let it flow freely, to stop grasping and regretting, to joyfully gather the moments that graciously continue to come and to hold those temporary gifts with open hands.