Seconds and Seasons

Chronometers measure time.

Punctuality is established by orientation to clocks.  Cell phones measure time and are helpful in setting up appointments.  Texting to pick a day, time and meeting location is the mode.  Technology helps, but punctuality is a matter of flesh and bone.

Whether online or in person, corporal manifestations are required from time to time.  Good faith and punctuality eventually means breaking bread together.  Zoom callers want cameras on.  If one person organized, planned and followed through to arrive on time, the punctual person expects reciprocity.  Timely arrivals can be interpreted as mutual respect; a way of saying 'your time is just as valuable as mine.'

Life happens; even the most fastidious stewards of seconds yield to construction delays.  A habit, however, of timeliness sticks to a reputation like layers of wax to a wick.  Candles are created by successively dipping a string into hot wax and cooling.  One plunge a candle doth not make and one tardy or timely arrival is a poor barometer of character.  Keep dipping the string, however, and eventually a candle forms.  Paying attention to people's use of time, over time, is telling.

I am occasionally late.

Filial opinion is hardened by primary research.  Spousal certainty is as solid as wax.  Congregations can testify, and friends tell, that I know how a watch works.  Working by watches, however, is something with which I need work.

When, therefore, everything falls into place and the other person is off the pace, video footage is helpful.  Catching anyone doing something right is a gift to the would-be recidivist.  If the tardy struggle, replaying videos of punctuality at family gatherings is OK too.

Mounting the porch, on time, and preparing to knock reminded that chronometers measure time.  So successfully was the morning organized that I was early.  A raised knuckle, triumphantly knocking at the top of the hour, was halted.  Already opened, the door exposed a treasure more important than punctuality.

Behind the screen dozed the proprietor's granddaughter, barely a month old.  She slept with clasped hands and curled feet; so flexibly that her head dangled behind her spine.  Awakening such chubby, dreaming preciousness is probably a misdemeanor in ten states.  She slept on her grandfather's chest.

Her grandfather agreed to meet because we're raising support for the chaplaincy.  Texts and talking resulted in our telling time that morning.  On time was I, but he was dozing.  Clocks measure time but, Creation is measured in seasons.

 Seasons come and go when they want to come and go.  Shaking a fist at Mother's Day snowflakes is futile.  Chronometers tell time, but clocks have nothing to do with seasons.

A season, in the Greek language, is kairos.  Caesarian sections are scheduled but vaginal births depend on kairos.  No matter how the plumpkin dozing on granddad's lap came into the world, she was on a different schedule.  

Chronometers measure seconds, but consciousness measures seasons.

Looking at my watch, and remembering that babies sleep for as long as they want, I began to pray.

Alex: Lord, You've called me to a Christ-centered work among first responders.  Raising prayer and financial support seems part of the deal: here I am.  Appointments are stacked the rest of the day.  Knocking seems wrong.  How do I reach the goal, for You, if I'm too soft to do what it takes to be fully funded?

Holy Spirit: Turn around, Alex.

 Behind me, my host's porch spread widely.  Two rocking chairs faced a freshly mowed lawn.  Overhead, a sunshiny canopy of trees hid hundreds of singing birds.   

 Holy Spirit: What were you going to do for the next hour except trust Me in your conversation?  Why did you come to the house, Alex?  Did you come to get the money or did you come because you'll actually go wherever I lead?

Alex: Where You lead, I want to follow.

Holy Spirit: See how pretty the yard is?  Do you think he'd mind if you were empathic instead of being a jerk and knocking?  You remember what it takes to get a baby to sleep; knocking for the money makes you sick because you belong to Me.  Yet you're stressed because you have 'a job to do.'  What if 'doing your job' is sitting in a rocking chair and spending an hour with Me?

 Alex: Where You lead, I want to follow.

Chronos surrendered to kairos.  Birds, journaling and Bible-infused prayer consumed eighty-four minutes; they seemed a few moments.  Stewardship of relationships - more appointments and responsibilities - meant getting back on the road.  Before leaving, however, a note to the sleepy heads:

Dear XXXXXX,

Scripture promises, "It is appointed unto people once to die, but after this the judgment."  Every action will be laid bare.  Anyone who awakens a sleeping baby, and her sleepy grandfather, will have some explaining to do.

Seeing your tenderness with the wee one was a blessing.  Thank you for allowing me to rest on your porch and reconnect with the Lord.  A gem and treasure is the sanctuary of your yard. 

Your willingness to meet this morning is appreciated.  Outreach among first responders is strengthened by the intercession and generosity of families like yours.   Rescheduling is a hope.

May the Lord keep you until we meet again.  Together we're trusting Jesus to change lives. 

Jesus came naturally through Mary.  Maybe He'll come in season next time too.

Seconds and seasons matter; perhaps one more than the other.