But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand. (Psalm 31:14-15a, ESV)
I watched my grandfather walk across the room and pick up an old bullseye putter loaded with lead tape on the backside. With his right hand, he knocked two golf balls away from the baseboard. Seamlessly, he nestled into his stance: feet a couple inches apart and knees softly bent, his left hand anchored near the top of the grip, his right index finger extended down the shaft. His 97-year-old grin opened to a hearty chuckle as he stroked the two balls back toward the wall. He was steady and smooth.
I don’t remember him playing a lot of golf. My memories are attached to waving from the practice tee as his fairway mower clipped the morning dew at Avondale golf course. One of several jobs he enjoyed after retiring from the Coast Guard. As I sorted through his lingering club collection in his garage recently, my heart warmed with the memory of how much he enjoyed his club making hobby during my adolescent years.
My grandfather believed he was going to live to 100 years old. So much so that he, at 98 years old, questioned what was wrong with him days before the Lord ushered him home on December 31, 2021.
On this side of heaven death feels surreal. After caring for my grandfather for twenty-two days, I left for a quick weekend home to regroup. I believed I would have another day, another hour, another minute with him when I returned in a few days. But I didn’t.
Death of a loved one disrupts our lethargic belief that we are in control of time. The truth written by the Psalmist’s pen reminds us that, “My times are in your hand.” It is the LORD, our God, who knows our time. The Hebrew fleshes this out to mean our occasion, opportunity, season. Notice the Psalmist says our times are in God’s hand, not were, they are right now.
I wish I could say my heart freely chose to embrace those twenty-two days. The truth is I wrestled with my flesh because I had to give up my agenda and my schedule. I wanted to manage the time to fit my desires.
“There’s no such thing as time management,” says award-winning author Jen Pollack Michel. She elaborates by explaining, “The minutes are not ours to multiply. We receive them as a gift. What we can do, however, is cultivate the ability to inhabit those minutes with attention, or undiluted unfragmented presence.”
In a previous devotional, I encouraged us to commit to living through this year with small, consistent, intentional actions. Today, I exhort us to begin each day praying, “My time is in your hands Lord.” In so doing we cultivate the landscape of our heart to inhabit the minutes of the day with attention.
I am grateful for the twenty-two days with my grandfather. Each day was a gift of vulnerability, laughter, and undiluted unfragmented presence.