The Toast I Didn't Make Tonight

I would like to propose a toast.                                                                     

A toast to time.

The time we have had, and the time we haven’t.  The time we have embraced, the time we have been sucked into, the time we have rebelled against.

It seems it is almost impossible to not think of time at a time like this. A time of transition.  A time where we find ourselves on a kind of precipice, able to look more clearly behind and before us.  When we are rudely forced to think of time – the past, present and future.

For me, I am particularly past-phobic. I am terribly afraid of nostalgia.  And it has been happening more and more lately, as I look through facebook at pictures taken of me over the past several years, my stomach does that thing where it turns a little, and my heart faints a little as I think about all that has happened, how much I have grown, the people I have gotten to know. I think we all kind of get sucked into this allure of time past.

Then we drift to think about the future, we get sucked into trying to figure out the next 5, 10, 20, 40 years of our life this week on top of all the tests we need to study for, jobs to interview for, applications to fill out.  But it is just as nauseating to dwell so much on the future. 

We get sucked into the past or the future and it takes us captive.  I do not mean to say remembering or planning are inherently bad – in fact I would say they are good – it is just the extremes that are harmful (nostalgia and looking so far ahead that we miss the stones in place to get us to that new destination). So we become sucked in and venture through these bittersweet moments, lost in thought and feeling.  And time marches on.

So, we begin to rebel, right?  Maybe we decide to live in the present.  To not be too swayed by the past or the future and to not let any of these final opportunities or experiences pass us by.  But they are so flighty. They come and go before we know it.  And it is not quite so fulfilling to blindly stumble through life.

We have been trying our hardest to rebel against time for so long.  We stay up later than we should, stalling the sleep that will inevitably get us too quickly to the next morning.  We push back deadlines as far as we can.  We snooze alarm clocks. We develop mild apathy.  And we ignore the fact that this season of our lives is coming to an end. And we are left to question: what lasts?

As much as we try, as much as we fear, as much as we hope, we cannot free ourselves from time. 

It is this lament that I have found to be turned on its head in Psalm 103 (starting from v. 13).

As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;

for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.

As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field;

the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.

But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD'S love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children—

with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.

The LORD has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all.

Praise the LORD, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.

Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.

Praise the LORD, all his works everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the LORD, O my soul.

The limited time we have is a reality we can’t escape, but we have a hope within that of something even more real than that time to which we are bound.  God has given us time to flourish, to be with one another, to soak in His presence and trumpet His praise as the tulips and daisies and all other flowers of the field this season do so well.  And although that time is limited, it is truly precious.

So, I am thankful for time – for it being so full of your faces and smiles and laughs and for those of my future new friends.  I fondly remember all we have done and I look forward excitedly to the next step.

I embrace time – this transitory life, and I hope and trust that at least some measure of it is founded God’s everlasting love.

So, a toast to time – which by nature exalts God above all else – proving His love is truly everlasting and showing us as humble servants. 

A toast to time – which is graciously given to us that we may with all our being, more fully praise God and know His love.