About Time
FROM THE RECTOR
A few months ago, I read something about time that has stuck with me. Writing for the New York Times, Tim Urban described the concept of “Depressing Math” and how it puts a human life into perspective. His op-ed piece included several graphics, among which was a grid of 4,680 tiny squares—one for each week of a ninety-year life span. In my early forties, it did not take long to realize what middle-aged really is.
Urban’s point was not to depress us but to encourage us with clarity. He admitted how much he enjoys going to a particular museum but acknowledged sadness at realizing that, given the infrequency with which he goes, he was on track to visit only twelve more times before he dies. He calculated that in an average year he spends around ten or fifteen days with his parents, which, given their life-expectancy, means they will only spend around 350 days together in total after he left their home at nineteen years old. Before that, as a child, he spent that much time with them every single year. For him the math was a reminder to celebrate every day he had with them.
If you only have 4,000 weekends at your disposal—seventy-five good years of healthy adulthood—how will you spend each one? How will you make the most of them? Urban is careful to distinguish between what is past and what still lies ahead. We could get lost in regret over the choices that are behind us, but we cannot change them. By recognizing the value of the choices that are ahead of us, however, we can chart a path of meaning and joy for what is left.
Starting each morning with gratitude helps me approach each day with renewed intention. Instead of beginning with a to-do list and trying to make the most of my time, I begin with a moment of thanksgiving. When I start by thanking God for the day before and for the day ahead, acknowledging that every joy, every challenge, every minute, every breath is a gift, I discover a little more freedom to embrace whatever will come my way, and that freedom helps me choose moments of deeper value when they present themselves. That pursuit of gratitude helps even the times of unwelcome struggle become gifts of unexpected value.
One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 90, in which the psalmist prays, “Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations…For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night.” The poet contrasts the eternity of God with the brevity of human life, writing, “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.” Like Urban, the psalmist’s response to this reality check is not despair but renewed intention: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”
Every day is a gift. Every morning is a gift. Every moment is a gift. One way to appreciate that truth is to chart out every week of your life on a big grid and take stock of how precious each one is. Another way is to make gratitude a daily practice. How we spend our time does not matter as much as the intention we bring to each minute of every day. When we recognize how valuable the gift of time really is, we begin to devote it to the people and pursuits that truly matter to us. Why wait until that gift is nearly expired to recognize its intrinsic value? Why not start today?
Yours Faithfully,
Evan D. Garner