There is a certain helplessness that comes with the passage of time.
“Time flies”, they said… but it never really rang true to me.
The older I get, the faster time seems to go. There’s a growing sense of running out of time.
When you are a child, the hours and days are endless. As a teenager, you can waste hours lying on your bed, doing nothing, and it costing you nothing.
Time no longer works like that for me.
Every day is full and somehow seems to have fewer minutes than the last.
It’s not a matter of not being in control. It’s that the march of time is speeding up.
And with it, my life.
It is perennially harder to find time for reflection, for prayer, for planning and for growth.
And when you blink, a month has gone.
It’s like being a passenger in a speeding tube of time.
There’s still so much to do, but so little time.
I wonder whether Jesus felt like this, approaching the end of his time on Earth. He had done so much… but did he have the feeling of running out of time as well?
Lent day 12, 2020. Amman, Jordan