Time is Ticking Away

This blog comes from suburban Chicago.  Yesterday was a mixed day of emotions.  We went by 2 cemeteries in the Quad Cities (IL) and visited the grave of Bonnie's younger sister who died 3 years ago of breast cancer, and then we visited her dad's grave, who died in 1999.  A few hours later we were in suburban Chicago visiting Bonnie's childhood neighborhood.  I was shown her old school and even the place where she walked to take violin lessons.  I also saw the old neighborhood baseball field where her dad played when he was a young man.

Of course all of this makes you think about the passing of time.  I remember a song a few years back that says, "Time is ticking away, time is ticking away, hey hey."  Boy is it!


I could only imagine Bonnie toting a violin down the street after school to take her lesson.  I could only imagine Ben, (her dad), swinging the bat as his young family watched from the quaint stands.  I guess that is why you take those nostalgic trips periodically, to keep imagining how it was, or at least, how you thought it was.

As the sands of time quickly run through the hour glass, one has to step back and reflect--what does it all mean?  Where is it all going? How did a young girl from Cook County, Illinois, wind up in Marshall, Missouri, years later to eventually meet me?  Now we have 5 grandchildren and live in Korea.  Time keeps ticking away.

Maybe all of this helps explain why we are in Korea.  Time is short and opportunities for making a positive difference in the world are quickly reducing to a few remaining years.  Oh, I am sure we could make a difference in the USA, but for some reason we have wound up in Korea for this stage of our lives.  If I could really explain how Bonnie wound up with me all these years, I guess I could then explain how we wound up in Korea; so, I remain somewhat silent on the subject.  Will my epitaph read that God directed it all, or will it read that we made our own decisions in the processes of time?  Some of both seems the safe way to state it.  I confess I know very little about such deep questions--my mind changes all the time.  I am never quite sure, and I am not sure I ever want to be sure.  The mystery is all part of the fun.

For now, I just do the best I can with what I have left and leave it with God.  I will let Him figure it all out.  I just hope when my kids drive through my old childhood neighborhoods and visit my grave they might at least realize that a gracious God had something to do with it all.  Maybe they will go by the old ballpark in Marshall and say, "There is where dad swung the bat (and probably missed)."  I do hope they drive by the old church and say, "Something happened there that put dad on the course of life he chose."  After all, that is where I met Jesus, and also, that is where I met their mother.  From there it has been all faith living with little understanding about much. 

The trip has been both good and scary. Sand is passing through the old hour glass faster than it used to, so I have some sense of urgency about what I do. Korea is my playing field for now.  I keep swinging the proverbial bat and hope that I connect once in a while.  I guess I can't ask for anything more than for the opportunity to keep swinging the bat.  Only God knows if I hit anything.  That's the way it should be.

By the way, kids, since I have moved around so much, you will have many places to go in the world and see where dad played.  I only hope you smile when you see the places and remember, "time is ticking away."