Time. It is so temporary and so finite. It can’t be made and it can’t be kept. It is and it passes. I invest my time and then wonder if it was a worthwhile investment. Each moment I am met with a myriad of possibilities for how to use my time and no matter what I choose, I sit in nail-biting suspense to see if it was the wisest choice. How will I ever know?

At times I feel affirmed. Sometimes it’s when my toddler chooses my arms over everyone else’s but tomorrow she might choose someone else and then I’ll hang my head in discouragement all over again. Sometimes it’s when my baby searches for my face and lights up when he finds it but when he is 3 my days will probably be filled with his tantrums. Sometimes it’s when my 9-year-old confides in me that all he wants is time with me but when he is 18 he may be eager to leave. So how do I know if what I’m doing is the right time investment?

I agonize over purchases because in the moment it might seem like the right decision but in the next moment it might prove to be a mistake. And that’s how I feel about time. The good moments validate me and the rough ones nullify those. Or do they? And so I live with urgency. I want as many chances for do-overs as I can possibly get just like how I want to return purchases that proved unnecessary.

What should I be doing with the time I have? Make a treasure trove of memories to bolster my grown children in a shaky world? Becoming as close to my husband as I possibly can so he can change the world with confidence? And in all of this, what about the menial things that require so much time: the cooking and cleaning and laundry folding and planning? What about the other valuable people who comprise our community?

And when I’m no longer in this sphere of time will I even think about how I invested this moment of time that I alone am asked to steward? Will I get an answer before it is too late to change anything?

As I type this out, I believe a glimpse of an answer is coming to me. Perhaps I am not asked to steward my time entirely on my own for it is too heavy a burden. Yes, I must redeem the time. Yes, I am the only one who can live my years on this rotating sphere. But no, I am not without help. The One Who created day and night has said that I can cast my burden on Him. The One who stopped the sun for Joshua can transform my mistakes into a redemptive opportunity. The One who gave Hezekiah extra years can prompt my decision-making. And the One who made a shadow move backwards can help me live in the moment without nail-biting anxiety.

He created the days and said they were good.