Time is something we all have in common. We spend it constantly - more than money, emotions, or fuel.  Some use it more wisely, while others throw caution to the wind, throwing it around like it is an inexhaustible resource.

My new year's resolution for 2011 was to let time be time -- to not arrive at the beginning of every month with a worried greeting of, "How in the heck did you get here?" The visitor of next month is one whose impending arrival I always anticipate, but it seems to become a more anxiety-filled journey as the year wanes on.  It feels like sand just slipping through my tightened grip.

This resolution has probably been the only one I have every kept.  As I was slightly caught off guard each month when March 28, July 30 or today rolled around, a gentle nudge caused me to pause and think, "Well, what did you expect? This is time; it's the same time amount you have been given every year and here we are on the precipice of November 2011.  It's happened before; it will happen again."  Okay. And I'm okay, I remind myself as I move through the hours before me.

As my wife and I prepare to take our first born to college this week, we have that oft-asked question before us:  Where does the time go?  Eighteen years - whoosh.  Gone.  Did I spend it well?  One of my favorite books of the past year has been James Bryan Smith’s The Good and Beautiful God.  In that book, he talks about how we spend our time.  We are so busy – so hurried – that we often have no idea where our time goes.  In an average lifetime, we will spend

-         six months sitting at traffic lights

-         eight months opening junk mail

-         one year searching through desk clutter

-         two years trying to call people who are not in

-         three years in meetings (this MUST be low for Presbyterians)

Time is such a precious thing.

For most of us, it is precious because with live with the knowledge that we do not have a limitless supply of it.  We all wish we could find a 25th hour in the day.  I have petitioned the Lord for such to no avail.  On a larger scale, however, we are oblivious to what "not enough time" really means.

As Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 15:24, the end WILL come.  Time eventually runs out.  The odd thing is that I often live in ignorance of that truth.  I live as if I have all the time in world to do the things I really need to do - things like loving my wife well or building Christ into the lives of my children.   I live with a youthful, though misguided, notion that I am in control of my days and my time.  William Henley's concluding words to his poem, Invictus, resonate somewhere deep within me:

(this is part 5 of 5 of a series of posts on leadership in an interconnected world)

If you have been keeping up with the previous posts, then you'll note that Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson, Rosa Parks, Steven Spielberg, and William Shakespeare all contribute something to leadership in an interconnected world. To review, let me simply make 5 brief points.

In an interconnected world, leaders will have to:

1) work with people of clashing ideologies (see Lincoln in Goodwin's book Team of Rivals)
2) focus on something bigger than their job or themselves (to me Lincoln is the example again, but a case could also be made for Wilberforce)
3) utilize words carefully and understand that words do leave a legacy (see Jefferson's example)
4) know when to stay seated on principle and when to move ahead; sometimes staying still is progress (see also Rosa Parks)
5) understand who the storytellers are and how their influence shapes ideas (see how Spielberg and Shakespeare have shaped ideas)

The basic love language of quality time has many dialects including: quality activities. At a recent singles event I asked those present to complete the following sentence: “I feel most loved and appreciated by _________ when __________.” They could insert the name of anyone: parent, roommate, coworker, or friend.

One twenty-seven-year-old male inserted the name of his girlfriend and completed the sentence as follows: “I feel most loved by Megan when she and I do things together—things I like to do and things she likes to do. We talk more when we’re doing things. I had never ridden a horse until I met her, and she had never been sailing. I’ve always enjoyed doing things with other people. It’s so neat to be dating someone who is open to trying new things together.”

Woe to those who squander today straining toward tomorrow: will we savor this gift called time?

Most don't take the mic and say, "Honestly, it feels like God is wasting my time" because there's a chunk of people in the church who get nervous when we say something "negative." And who wants to see a religious spirit have a cow in the corner? Not a pretty sight...

So, we may not say it out loud, but often we believe it in our guts. God, let's get moving. Why won't you open a door? What am I still doing here? Why are they holding me back? I could make more of a difference than you're letting me make...

In short, "God, you're wasting my time."

Sometimes we sabotage the potential of tomorrow by underestimating the potential of today.

Dear 2008:

I’ve never broken up with the past before, so I’ll be honest—this will be a little awkward. You’ve been great, but it’s not you, I promise. It’s me.

You’ve been very good to me this year, having taught me about the value of a simple life, the reward of slow and steady practice, the glory of aging a little bit at a time, and the sheer beauty of four separate seasons. I hardly knew you twelve months ago, but I’d heard about your reputation—that you would be better than 2007 and that an optimist would find you charming and good. They were right. You were all of those things.

But I was reading the Bible this morning and God said that there’s a time for everything under the sun. A part of me wishes I could keep you for a while longer. You’re safe and really, really predictable. I like that about the past. But God has new things for me and that means that I have to let you go.