Have you ever considered how addicting the hunger for time is? We cannot influence how much time we’re given, yet it’s one of our most precious gifts. The wealthiest person in the world cannot buy more of time, in terms of amount, than you or I can. How we use our time is up to the individual.
Choice is another gift. Each day we make hundreds, maybe thousands of choices. There’s a choice to make in every situation, whether it’s, ‘should I put cream in my coffee?’ or ‘should I take this job?’ Anyone who tells you they have no choice has bought into a pack of lies designed to keep them from moving forward in life.
I haven’t been bored since I was a teenager. Creatives have a remarkable talent for entertaining themselves, making lemonade out of lemons, and finding things to keep their minds engaged. But a creative mind can operate like pouring a glass of water into a vase of pebbles filling all the spaces between between the stones with ideas and projects—or new stories. That’s where the hunger for time raises it’s creepy head.
Suddenly there are multiple projects and details for projects that require slabs of time. And every project has potential. It can cause progress to spin to a halt like a truck stuck in a bog. Since I was given a large dose of perseverance in my character, my first response is to stomp the gas pedal and fling huge gobs of mud everywhere. It gets a little messy.
I’m not a New Year’s resolution maker, but I do look at the year ahead and think about what I want to accomplish. At the onset of 2018 I decided by the end of the year I will have made certain decisions. I outlined numerous choices in my writing career, such as scheduling times for blog posts on two blogs, committing to goals for manuscripts, increasing/improving my web presence. Additionally I made decisions about horses and my equestrian activities.
Halfway through the year, I’m evaluating my progress and have made a few observations.
- Every time I make one decision, the need for a new decision takes it’s place. It’s pouring the water over the pebbles again.
- It’s okay to make decisions that are wrong or don’t pan out. God loves me even when I screw up.
- There are things in my life that I don’t have to do even though the world around me says I should. (Okay this might be a throwback to my ‘child of the ’60s’ mentality. Go flower power!!)
- It’s okay to re-evaluate and make changes no matter how old you are.
My Best Secret
The one constant that powers everything else and makes all my decisions easier is the time I spend in prayer each morning. I try to preserve that time over everything else because it orders my day, helps my direction, and fills me full of enthusiasm for living. During my personal time with God, He reminds me who I am and why I’m here. If I’m discouraged, He builds me up. If I’m confused, He gives me direction.
This began many years ago through the promptings of other believers. At first, the time I spent was sketchy and small, but God rewarded my efforts with more dedication until my early mornings with Him became the most precious part of my day.
Does the Hunger Leave?
Do I still hunger for time? Yes, only because I love what I do and want to do more. Other than the tragedies of life, such as of having to say goodbye to my animal friends, or inconveniences, such as a broken tractor, or dealing with the world’s most frustrating internet, or some new rule, web design, or computer program, I enjoy everything I do.
The small amount of time I give to God in the morning has huge returns. I have the assurance that what I do is okay with Him. I have direction for what He wants me to do. And I know if the time comes to change direction, He is faithful to show me the way.
And the best part? Not only do I have a relationship with my Creator, the morning time spans the day, and when I need to talk with Him, He’s closer than a friend. Much better than my cell phone!
It’s Your Turn
So how is your year going? Do you have a hunger for time? Have you made decisions? Do you love what you do? Has anything special happened? Will you share?
Barbara Ellin Fox