WHY I COLLECT CLOCKS THAT DON’T WORK

Lately, it seems time is ticking away. Hurry here. Hurry there. The moments pass way too fast for a girl who’s in her 60s. I thought I was old when I turned 25.

Back then, I didn’t want to waste a minute. Even now, I’m running late.

How do we stop the clock and make life last?

I found the answer in the most unexpected place - a rundown, out-of-the-way antique store.

The clerk held up a vintage clock for my approval, but it was ticking.

"Nope," I shook my head. She looked confused.

This world can't understand the value of stillness. Sometimes you have to slow down to get ahead.

Browsing through the aisles, I spotted a timepiece with a weathered face and steadfast hands pointing to the truth we try to race past.

Holding time is a matter of surrender.

A life that stands the test of time stands still before God and knows. The Ancient of Days has planned our days and ordered our steps long before we set foot in a world that spins out of our control.

People were created to love and be loved, to know and be known. That takes time. That’s why Jesus chose moments over motion. He held eternity by pausing when it mattered - one touch, one meal, one conversation at a time.

For too long, I ignored such treasures in my quest for the next shiny thing.

"I'll take it!" I announced, plunking the rusty prize on the counter with some hard-earned cash. The clerk's eyebrows raised, but I didn't flinch.

Finding time was worth it.

I began to see the proof in every precious face I loved.

"Which clock is mine?" my 3-year-old grandbaby asked, noting my collection in the kitchen. I’d answered that question before, but she wanted to see if anything had changed.

We'd spent an hour playing dolls in front of a pile of laundry. Afterwards, we sang ten rounds of “head and shoulders.” So much to do, but nothing seemed to exist except this moment in time, exactly what my faithful clocks had been teaching me.

"This one," I point to the square clock with rounded edges, its slender hands forever set to 5:43, the minute she was born. Then we both began to giggle.

Because the best time to start living was yesterday, but the second-best time is now.

Lord, teach us to number our days to make every moment count.