My Times Are in Your Hands

We all get words, phrases, songs, limericks and sayings stuck in our head. Some weeks I'm humming a top 40 chorus, some days I'm recalling a movie line. For the past two weeks a Bible verse hasn't left my mind or my heart for more than a couple of hours.

My times are in Your hands... Psalm 31:15



Time. The precious commodity. The fleeting one. The thing we always want more of and yet the thing we often neglect to prioritize properly.

Today, a missionary my age, who I graduated Bible college with many years ago had a sudden heart attack and passed away. Leaving a wife and three small children behind in Indonesia.

Yesterday, at the gas station not too far from our sleepy little neighborhood, a random robbery ended in death.

And this week I lost someone very dear to me to cancer. I'm heartbroken at his passing.

Time is not guaranteed to us and it is most definitely not in our hands. Yet each day that it is gifted to us, we have the amazing responsibility to use it at our discretion.




I have always had an immense respect for time. Call me sentimentalYet because of my awareness of it, I have always managed it properly and re-evaluate where I spend it, making course corrections when things get out of whack. I am thankful for it and I treasure each moment of it I get here on this Earth. And I am resolutely aware, that my times are not just in my hands. They are in the One who gave me life and who keeps hope in my heart each day.

But what I do with my time, each day~ each year matters. My children are growing up and my relationship with my husband is evolving. This new thing in my life called "career" is blossoming and new opportunities open each day. My friendships are expanding and my closest ones remain dear to my heart.



And each day I want to use my time with wisdom and thoughtfulness. I don't want to spend 15 minutes scrolling through Instagram photos when my 7 year old is sitting on the couch next to me staring at a TV. I don't want to schedule unnecessary meetings when I could be putting it towards mentoring another or helping a friend in need. I don't want to be missing out on the chance to bless my neighbors with kindness, send a letter across the miles or make a candlelit dinner for my family at the end of the day.


Steve...my friend who passed away this week...Steve and I would write letters to one another. He was a mentor since I was 13. He gave me the only nickname in life I've ever been given, MP (Megan Page). The time he invested in my life is incalculable. He cheered me on through those confusing middle and high school years and made sure I never forgot my worth, value and beauty. He was a father figure to many and I'm so blessed to have been one of them.
Last month, knowing he was growing weaker by the day, I stopped in the middle of dish washing and sat down to write him another letter. A longer letter. A walk-down-memory-lane letter. A thank you letter. My last message from Steve was a note on my Facebook wall thanking me for it. I only wish I could have had time to hold his hand and tell him those things in person.

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1 comment:

  1. Wonderful post - although I am sorry for your recent losses. And so glad you took the time to write him that letter.

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