There is a time for everthing and a seaon for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant an a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep an a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesates 3:1-8
The family returned from a week in Michigan, full of beautiful lake bound activity--rushing, rushing, rushing through airports and Atlanta rush hour to gather up the dog and take one girl to a softball tourney and the other to camp.
In the midst of the rushing to and from the not so important, I paused to share in a funeral honoring a neighbor's life. In the midst of appreciating her life, the grief of her passing, the questions about her suffering--there is the moment of considering time and I use it. Am I living well? Am I caring about what is worthy of caring about? Am I learning, and loving--the activity that fills purpose?
It was her time to die, and it hurt--as she loved much and loved well.
It is my time to live well, time passes quickly.