Читать книгу Recital of Love - Keren Dibbens-Wyatt - Страница 15

Time

TIME IS NOT THE THING YOU THINK IT IS. Time is expansive and elastic. It is there to enable and enlarge, not to constrict and confine. Time is your helpmeet, for it divides the day into hours of prayer, of meeting, of work, play, challenge, and rest, and the night into a silent hopeful darkness for denizens of moon-gazing, star-watching, birthing of wisdom. A time for doers, a time for dreamers. Lines may be crossed over or mixed up, yet time remains the same: a watchman on the towers of your life who proclaims the coming of the dawn and the dusk, who sings you into prayers and death alike. But though time seems rigid and preset, it is pegged out as the boundary of an encampment, and the more you savour it, the further the rope reaches.

If you take no notice of the markers I have placed, you will trip over them before you see them and lie face down in the dust, hot and confused, wondering at your own ignorance of the obvious.

Time is the Good Shepherd’s sheepdog, a Border Collie who will herd and guide you, if you know how to respond to her presence, and recognize as she does, the sound of my voice and the pitch of my whistle. Be wise therefore and learn the ways of edges and guidelines, of drooping eyelids and weary backs, of aching heads and sore knees, of overworked hands. For all these are shepherdings into rest, and my fold awaits you always, a place of replenishment and safety, love and restoration.

Visit often and let the grass grow green and lush for your readiness, and your jaws rest from the grind.

Selah