Some Words about Time

Yesterday, Felicity and I had a late lunch by the river. I sat eating my gyro and she stood pointing out the squirrels and birds, enacting a slow dance towards the animals and back to me.

“Squiwell,” she said.

“Burd,” she said.

Time stretched forever.

How is that time can both stretch forever so that the moments pass one sleepy point at a time, and yet they go so fast? —my last post was in September. Felicity is now twenty months old. Her words are coming, rapidly and more distinct.

Words hold power.

Today, we woke up to discover our water heater broke. I used my words to upbraid a poor, home warranty customer service representative for telling me, “Hot water is a convenience. We will not fix it until Monday. It’s not an emergency.” With righteous anger, I detailed how this action showed they only want profit. How dare they deny me, my favorite modern convenience? In a moment, thirty minutes had passed in heated conversation, but the water in our house remains cool. She just did her job—and I wasted time.

My words will teach Felicity to use words and I want to teach her to fill her time with words worthy of the moment.

More than modeling, I too have a commitment as a Christ-follower to be more like him in the words I choose.

Lord sanctify my moments. Redeem my time.

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