How many minutes are left on the clock for you? There could be thousands, or only a few. No matter the abundance of time left for each of us, the number is finite, the minutes fleeting. How can we seize the final, fleeting minutes?
Note about the image: This is Oscar by my side in the cabin at Mystery Acres.
My Mysterious Mind
Have you noticed the intensity with which a football team plays after the two-minute warning? Or what about the extra effort of a baseball team in the ninth inning? For basketball fans, have you seen a team get three significant plays in the last five seconds of a game, using time-outs to stop the clock between each? What is it about the fleeting, final minutes that compels a higher level of intensity?
This past weekend my husband and I visited our oldest daughter and her family. We drove over seven hours on Friday only to drive home three days later. When my daughter and our three grandsons arrived at their home on Friday evening, my husband and I welcomed them. On Monday morning, as they left to go to school/daycare/work, my husband and I waved to them from their own front bay window. We only had the weekend to be together, but we made the most of our time there.
On Sunday evening, before bedtime, the middle grandson and I were building a spaceship together with random Legos. Such unscripted projects use a peculiar combination of pieces, basically whatever we find and agree to assemble. Saddened by the interruption of bedtime, he said we would resume our play before he had to go to school the next morning. I was skeptical, having organized the morning departure during the first days after the youngest of the three was newly home from the hospital about a year ago. There was never any extra time as I rushed them out the door.
This past Monday morning was the typical crunch for getting ready in what always feels like too short a window of time. But, to our surprise, the middle grandson ate breakfast, disappeared upstairs to get ready, then reappeared a few minutes later, with over 15 minutes left before departure time. Typically a frustrating dawdler, he had a goal to seize the final minutes so he and I could build a bit on our Lego creation. I happily agreed. We grabbed those fleeting minutes and set back to work. Soon his older brother joined us, bringing a game that he said would “go really fast.” I divided my final moments between the two of them, forging a memory I will forever treasure.
This week’s message is inspired by the actions of a five-year old, who rushed to get ready for school so he could enjoy a few minutes of time with his grandma. As he and his family gathered their things for the morning exodus, he asked when we would be together again. Just a few weeks I said. “How long is that?” he asked. My mouth said, “not long” while my heart screamed “too long.”
Until then I will cherish those last few minutes and the little boy who eagerly finished his morning routine to make them available for us to enjoy together.
Most of my friends have grandchildren who live a few minutes away. At times I think that would be better. It certainly would be easier. Instead of envying the ease with which they see their grandchildren I think I will ponder that early morning time with two of mine, especially the joyful zeal with which a five-year old got ready for school, just for a few more minutes with me. Our time together fleeting, he seized those final moments better than any quarterback in a two-minute drill. And he did it to win a bit more time with me.
Message of Mystery Acres
When the new year started, I set a goal of getting to the forest at least once per month. As I write this, it’s the last day of February and the final chance to be at my beloved Mystery Acres. One week ago there was snow everywhere and temperatures well below freezing. For the past few days the highs have reached into the perfect range of low 70s. Tomorrow the highs will be in the 40s, with a return of “normal” winter.
Today was the last opportunity to visit Mystery Acres in February and the final hoorah of the unseasonably pleasant weather. Despite a morning meeting that required half a day near home, I agreed to head into the woods with my husband and our two dogs for the afternoon, a single night, and the first part of the initial day of March. The dogs and I just returned from a perfect-temperature walk, a prerequisite to sitting down with my laptop to write.
Now I am trying to find a way to multitask. I want to enjoy the fleeting moments of this incredible weather in the wonders of nature while simultaneously using my laptop. Further complications are the demands of two dogs who think they need to be right next to me at all times when I am accessible. At the moment I am in the cabin using a tiny chair too small for them to join me, with a lawn chair available to my right and left, one for each of the dogs. Instead of seizing the comforts of their own chairs, one dog is looking for dead bugs to eat; the other is sitting on the floor in front of me, perplexed at the computer on my lap where he should be.
It would have been easier to stay home. Easier but not better. The wonder of being in the forest on a day like today is fleeting. Tomorrow will be colder; today is perfect. My soul is better here. It took some rearranging but the dogs are finally settled in their adjacent seating. Moments like these might require some extra work, or uncomfortable adjustments, but the result is a precious moment otherwise lost.
The message of Mystery Acres is to seek and sacrifice for the fleeting moments. Like my grandson hurrying to get ready so he could seize a few extra minutes with his grandma, or the team scrambling to score before the time expires, what happens in fleeting moments can be rich with meaning. Some people search relentlessly for treasure, like the Lagina brothers on our Netflix addiction “The Curse of Oak Island.” But Mystery Acres pleads with us to seek the treasure of the transitory.
Ancient Mystery’s Voice
“However many years anyone may live, let them enjoy them all.” (Ecclesiastes 11:8)
King Solomon sought wisdom and recorded his observations in the book of Ecclesiastes. On his journey to capture the lessons he learned he pursued meaning in accomplishments, self-indulgent behavior, and accumulation of wealth. The recurring phrase “this, too, is meaningless, a chasing after the wind” marks the cadence of his narrative.
A somber book chronicling his pursuit of wisdom, the eleventh chapter includes a cheerful tidbit. In the first half of the eighth verse, he advises each person to enjoy each year of life, no matter how many they have. In the second half of that same verse he adds the context for enjoyment; “remember the days of darkness, for there will be many.” There is perhaps no better summary of how to approach each fleeting moment of life. Seize enjoyment in the precious, transitory moments while realizing there is a pervasive backdrop of suffering.
Life is to be cherished because it is temporary. The moments of easy joy will pass, as will the moments of agony. As I write this section, it is morning in the forest. In a few short hours my husband and I will pack up and head back to civilization. The crisp air is buzzing with the sound of my husband’s chainsaw. My four-legged companions have settled contently into their adjacent lawn chairs after their morning walk.
OK, Solomon, I am enjoying this day, this year, while remembering how difficult the previous years have been. Tough times will come again, as they always do, and they will leave, as well. But this year, this month (now March), this day, this moment, is fleeting. The clock is always ticking as one moment expires and the next emerges. Where is joy?
Ancient Mystery’s voice, in the often-despairing words of a long-ago king, cries out to us about joy. No matter how many years each of us has left, or how many hard years have gone before us, joy is to be seized in the fleeting moments of now.
Living in Mystery
What does it mean to live in the mystery of seizing the final, fleeting minutes of life? First, it means recognizing each minute is transitory, expiring soon after it begins. At this point I paused to gently pat each dog, realizing they are only with me for a brief season of my life. The blissful moment of their resting on either side of me will soon end. As a matter of fact, one of them decided to jump down and resume her search for dead bugs.
What is today like for you? Is it an ordinary day full of the usual tasks? Magnificent! Recognize that an ordinary day is just as fleeting and precious as a noteworthy one. Is today a tough day full of sorrow or difficulty? Recognize that a hard day is fleeting and precious, too. To hurt is to be alive. To be alive is finite. Each minute of life is a minute soon gone, with the remaining minutes fewer and fewer.
Next, seizing the final, fleeting minutes of life means focusing on this moment. Treasure isn’t buried deep in the ground on Oak Island, it’s buried in the depth of right now. Notice the sounds around you and really hear them. Focus on what your eyes can see right now and really notice them. Realize the ones you love who are in your life today and say thanks for them, and thanks to them. Grab the current minutes as though they are your last and soon you will be leaving. What can you notice? Who can you love? Where is joy waiting for you just to seize it?
Taking a lesson from my five-year-old grandson, don’t dawdle when you can be doing something you love, hopefully with someone you love. The dogs are on the cabin floor staring at me, shivering a bit in the chilly morning. They want to seize this fleeting moment and head back to the warmth of the motor home. Instead of just waiting for me, now they’ve jumped into a round of what my husband calls “dog wars,” a rough and tumble canine game. Again, I see a lesson from them to seize a fleeting moment and do something they love with someone they love (each other).
I’m going to wrap this up so I can get back into the forest for a bit. I hope you can grab something or someone special in the day that lies in front of you. Thank you so much for validating my writing by your reading. It means more to me than I can put into words. I longed to be a writer for decades; you being a reader makes me a writer. Thank you! May you be blessed by my words as I am blessed to write and share them with you. Go seize the fleeting minutes of today!
Connecting with Mystery
Dear Lord of All Mystery, I confess to being complacent about the fleeting minutes of my life. Help me to recognize the precious gift of today, whether ordinary or difficult. Thank You for giving me the days, months, and years of my life. Show me where to dig for joy in each fleeting minute. Amen.
Notes from Dr. Mac
If you want to do your own investigation of any of the scriptures I use, I suggest you go to Bible Gateway. This free online version of the Bible allows a search of words or phrases in various translations. I encourage you to meditate on the book of Ecclesiastes, or maybe just verse eight of chapter eleven. The rest is fairly depressing.
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