In this life we are bound by the constraints of time. Minutes spill into hours into days into weeks, months and years. Before the clock begins to tick we are given our full measure. The moment we draw our first breath the minutes begin their relentless march toward eternity.
Most days I long to slow them down. I've learned how quickly they slip through my fingers. But as August slips into September I find myself rushing ahead. I say things like: "In a couple of months, I'll be able to plant the fall flower garden. I can't wait for cooler weather." Or: "Just two more months until Lisa comes for a visit." I push the days filled with possibility aside and long for tomorrow.
When I look back through the years, I see how often I've squandered the moments wishing for tomorrow. If I had had my way, I would have missed miracle moments with my first baby, longing for the time I could get a full night's sleep. On and on it goes, rushing toward what looks somehow better and running the risk of missing what truly matters.
So I'm taking a deep breath and stepping into another hot day, because granddaughters are coming to spend the night tomorrow. If I wish my way into October, it may be cooler - but oh the joy I would have missed.
Linking to sweet Laura's blog: