It hangs heavy for the bereaving, eludes the busy, flies by for growing and runs out of the aged.
We talk about it like it is something you find on a Walmart shelf. Some can afford it, while others can’t. Some can make it work on their side while others waste it.
We abuse it. We curse it. We claim it. We crave it.
I’m a firm believer that if you really want to know what is going right or wrong in the world, you should ask a child. They are truth speakers.
“When I was little, my momma was going to read a book to me. We were going to snuggle in my bed, giggle and say prayers but the dishwasher needed to be loaded and there wasn’t time.”
“When I was little, my daddy and I were going to play catch in the yard. He was going to show me how to throw a curveball, hold a bat and talk about “one day” but the Masters was on and Tiger was making a comeback and there wasn’t time”
“When I was young, my grandparents were going to watch me play volleyball. They would have cheered for me, hugged me when we lost and told me I played just like my momma but they had already raised their kids, were too tired and just didn’t have time.”
“When I was young, my momma was going to help me revise my essay called “If I could Trade Places with Anyone”. I wrote it about her. But she was too wrapped up in Candy Crush, pretended to listen, told me it was getting late and there just wasn’t time.
“When I was a teenager, my daddy was going to take me fishing. We were going to get up early, stay out late and eat at the cafe on the lake but the grass needed to be mowed and there just wasn’t time.”
“When I am older, I’m going to do something for myself. I’m going to chase a crazy dream, call an old friend, spend time with the people I love, pray a lot more, listen to a good story, and enjoy the little things. And Thank God that I still have time.”