Over the past several years my family and I have had significant experiences happen to us, and this year in particular I’ve found myself calling those experiences to mind when a fresh challenge arises. When I find myself feeling pressed for time or worried about how a situation will unfold or a child is being particularly difficult, I pull from my memory bank. I remind myself of how things played out in the past and urge my frantic mind and heart to let time do its work once more.

I have found this to be helpful with the children. When they are behaving less than desirably, my reflex is to pounce and correct. But as of late there’s been a nudge in my heart to give them time- time to cool down and come around. It’s taken a great deal of restraint on my part but the results have been favorable. More often than not the resistant child will rejoin us and participate cheerfully without any raised voices and hurt feelings involved.

I wonder if I’m not so different from my children. Our community received a devastating blow when a significant member of it was tragically killed. I’m left with so many questions for my Heavenly Father. I want to scream and cry and pound the ground with my fists. It just doesn’t seem right or fair to lose such a bright light in such a dark world. But I can feel God’s patience with me. He isn’t forcing me to come to terms with this hurt or glibly telling me to trust Him. Gently verses and songs will float into my mind assuring me that He is close. Memories of His faithfulness drift into my heart. He is giving me time to come around.

We attended the funeral of our friend who passed away so unexpectedly. It was a meaningful service that honored his legacy in poignant ways. And yet it was apparent that a slideshow and words jotted down on paper could not do justice to a lifetime. As we drove in the funeral procession, lights flashing, police-led, cars pulling to the side to offer honor, I gazed out the window and saw all that was passing by: trees rushing past, cars growing smaller…smaller…smaller, roads fading in the distance.

That is time. Passing as we try to look forward and look behind in order to grasp it. My five-year-old son has tears running down his little cheeks as Taps were being played. He didn’t ever meet the man we were honoring but I think the poignancy of the moment had touched his heart. I want to live with the poignancy of time moving my heart to savor rather than squander it.

Time teaches us to be still, to wait, to be present. Time tells us if we have made the right choice and time gives us the opportunity to make better uses of what we have left. Are we living well? Time will tell.