About Time
I guess we spend our early years wishing time would hurry up, our middle years trying to find more of it, and our latter years wondering where in the world it went.
I guess we spend our early years wishing time would hurry up, our middle years trying to find more of it, and our latter years wondering where in the world it went.
I’ve been married more than 30 years in a row partly because I have learned the hard way that there are 777 things you should never say to your wife.
And that’s what you were about, Dad. Memories. When I was a lad, I loved to sneak up on you and watch what you were doing when you didn’t know I was there. That’s when you became my hero, I suppose.
Here we are in our early fifties and, I kid you not, we’re expecting.
Sports were my obsession. I immersed myself in statistics and scoreboards and would sooner worship at the shrine of sport than anyplace else.
We prayed and taught this boy to follow a man who gave up his life that we might live. How could I do anything less than applaud wholeheartedly when he takes us up on it?
I grumble. I gripe. I have grievances. In the midst of my whining, something happened. Our family took a trip to a third-world country with Compassion. While we were there, God hit me with the shallowness of my outlook on life.
What's the nicest thing someone has ever said to you? Proverbs 12:18 is so true. “Some people make cutting remarks, but the words of the wise bring healing.”
A reporter once asked a couple how they had managed to stay married 65 years. The woman replied, “We were born in a time when if something was broken, we would fix it, not throw it away.”
If joy depended on our circumstances, we’d have had an awful year. But we haven’t.