Tuesday of the Second Week of Advent
You have given me a mere handful of days,
and my lifetime is as nothing in your sight;
truly, even those who stand erect are but a puff of wind.
Psalm 39:6
Time has collapsed over these last months, so that many of us are not sure what day it is, or as I heard one of my favorite NPR commentators say, every day is Blursday. I have found it eases my way to give in to the slowness. In the early panic of the pandemic, I aspired to many plans, solutions, adaptations, iterations. Accomplishment finally gave way to gentleness when I remembered—and remembered—who holds us all.
I have risked letting things be, given my energy level permission to rewrite the rhythm of my day, opened myself the unhurried discernment of community. And I find that the Holy One continues to weave wonders.
It is no illusion that the hours of the day move differently now. I think perhaps time has never been as domesticated as we thought. And as my lifetime is a mere handful of days to the author of time, why rush as if I could be anytime but now?
