Constancy and countdowns

The sun shines brightly through closed-tight window panes. Prisms of light linger on my eyelashes, causing me to squint through the radiance of the wintery glow. I’m thankful that it hangs there in the sky, content to rise and fall, day in and day out, through meandering clouds. It’s a symbol of constancy, a reminder that all things good are spun on a firmer foundation than whatever present circumstances would like to convey. I’m grateful. I grieve. I breath deeply. I squint in the light of this phenomenon.

I’ve been told to be content and to be patient. I’ve been told to rest and wait patiently on the Lord. Yet, everything about me rushes time. I would not have been Joshua, commanding the sun to stand still, but rather Job beckoning it to move faster and bring relief. Being still…Selah…has never been my forte.

A countdown to Christmas proclaims furiously from my classroom whiteboard that merely ten more school days stand between us and holiday. A mental countdown keeps track of how many more months…years…David has before finishing his next degree. Another mental countdown keeps track of how many more months most likely will pass before doctors give me the go-ahead to attempt pregnancy again.

There are just so many ways to will away the days ahead…

But what about today?

I taste the complex sweetness of freshly brewed coffee. I linger over my devotional book and sit in the warming rays of brilliant sunshine. The stirrings of my sleepy house become harder and harder to ignore. Water runs. Floorboards creak. Cat ears and whiskers peer over the kitchen table surface. Feet pitter patter. The washer churns another load within its depths.

The sun continues to rise. As it did yesterday. Amidst my many countdowns toward certainties of which I know not. Ironic really. That I would hasten time toward that which I do not know.

This morning all I can do is ponder. Listen to the sound of cereal boxes emptying their contents into waiting bowls. Water boiling. Muffled conversations. It is today.