My New Year’s Epiphany

Coming back into this week, making the transition from parties and lazy mornings and finishing up my book and letting the mail and email pile up, I panicked. Peter and I ended the vacation with two days away together, and on Saturday night I surveyed the state of my desk and thought about the logistics of the next week and worried about where the time would come from and wished it would all go away.

It shouldn’t come as a big surprise, but all of a sudden I realized my worry centered around time. I worried about where I would find the time to prepare for speaking events and edits and responding to email, whether I would use my time properly to balance work and home, when I would write the next blog post, get the groceries, make those phone calls. I even worried about the fact that the next day was Sunday, a day in which I was supposed to rest and celebrate and let go of time.

And a verse, and a practice, from a long time ago came back to me: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Be still.

And know.

That I am God.

I lay in bed, breathing deeply, willing those words to become more than words, to sink into the skeptical, anxious crevices of my soul.

God of this moment. God of this day. God of this week. God of time.

The timeless one who entered into time.

The one who promises to give us our daily bread, but not more than that.

The one who even offers time back to us in the form of a day of rest, a reminder that time is not a tyrannical deity but a tamed beast.

I prayed and breathed and fell asleep. And Sunday came, with church and meals and a game of Sorry and taking the kids ice skating, and it was good.

My epiphany: God is the God of time.

My New Year’s Resolution: to acknowledge this truth by starting each work day with a prayerful invitation for God to enter into and direct and lead and guide me through the day.

What makes you anxious? Where is God in that anxiety? How could your anxiety be transformed into peace?