it's about time...

we were talking about who-knows-what that day when the clock began to chime.  each time i hear those sounds my soul is instantly shipped to grandpa & grandma campbell's old farm near huntington... to so many unique experiences... and to feelings that are hard to explain, but somehow important... these days, especially.

at the time, i didn't mention the wire corn bin to my mother... or the claw footed bathtub and the little light that hung from the center of the ceiling... or the smell of dove soap... or the view from the floor register above the front living room... or sitting on the edge of the bull pin... or standing on top of the ice cream freezer to steady it during the final cranks before it was finished... or the sledge hammer smashing blocks of ice wrapped in burlap... or the taste of ice cold whole milk.

i just told her that i remembered napping on the couch at the bottom of the stairs... and listening to the tick & tock as i waited for grandma to say i could finally get up.

without hesitation or blink, she wrote "randy" on a small piece of scotch tape and stuck it to the clock's back.  i couldn't have been more surprised... or thrilled.

a few months ago i got a call from the repair man that it was finally ready.  six months in the shop was more than i anticipated it would take to get it working properly.  i'd missed it like a friend... ...and was eager for the swing of its pendulum to unlock the sweetness of the past once more.

it took more than a chunk of change to refurbish... but now it sits on our mantel and soothes me like few things can.  i would never call it annoying.  but... yes, i've been told by other members of the household that its quirky sounds & chimes are taking some getting used to...  once on the half hour followed by a simple count of the hour each time the long hand stretches high.

i don't know all its history, but a handwritten card inside notes that it was purchased on april 10th, 1890.  so many stories it could tell.  memories hidden between the gears... too infrequently accessed.  random & fascinating.

but i'd expose my foolishness were i to suggest that only memories lay tucked in its bushings.  i've been learning they also hold insight & potential... the hope of tomorrow's possibility. 

how so?

let me explain.

embedded in each moment of time is a hint of G*D.  at least that's what i've come to experience & more keenly understand over these last few months.  G*D let us in on one of his little design secrets when the apostle paul noted that creation itself reveals G*D to us.  certainly creation doesn't spill everything it knows about G*D... but more than we tend to give credit.  i've found that even a smidgen of The Magnificent can be enough to recalibrate our perspective of past, present & future... of reality.

and i desperately need that kind of perspective these days.

now that "unemployed" is my official classification, i've got lots of nanoseconds on my hands.  but that's not always good.  the potential for depression is daunting.  add terms like "terminal" to the mix and... well.  you get it.

time isn't always on our side as the old saying suggests.  it can work against anyone, but does so especially in the minds of those without hope... fearful they are counting down the seconds between meaning & absurdity.  but gathering "the hints" helps ensure that i, myself, don't wind-up at the front of the "hopeless" line. 

it's too easy to fall for society's trend to use time to measure, record & award contribution.  that's not necessarily a bad thing, but we too often lose sight of the potential for damage & cruelty when we assess a life in such ways.  more importantly... we miss what G*D might have waiting for us in what we classify only as fog or darkness.

in this place between now & forever in which i find myself... a surreal veil shrouds my concept of "time".  and that's good thing.  it trips me & breaks my cadence... offering me a ladder out of my rut... allowing me to notice that G*D is using scripture or a clock or a person to wink & get my attention, and send a whiff of Majesty & Wonder my way.  furthermore, that layer of film begins to challenge my synthetic conclusions about my value on this fog-saturated stretch of road... and i discover new insight to the role of those of us trapped in precarious circumstances within a world of people driven by & demanding exponential progress. 

my old frame of thinking, in spite of its expertly installed vinyl christian siding, poorly masked a self-absorbed view of life.  it was a pitiful attempt to extend & enhance my meager contribution to a world that i too frequently forgot had jumped the tracks long, long ago.  so why did i keep buying into it's campaign promises for change when it continued to prop itself up with the same old rhetoric, systems of thinking, & modes of operating?

habit, i guess.  fear of becoming insignificant... probably.

since the spring when the cancer reappeared a 5th time in my armpit... there were times when i caved to the subtle pressure to navigate this challenging life-segment in "appropriate" ways.  i wanted to avoid the predictable gravitational spiral so common to people in my situation.  surely i was above that.  but as i walked that trail, my best efforts were blocked... sentencing me to taste the very plunge i vowed to avoid.

despair was chasing me.

my grandparent's old clock became one of those bits of G*D's love that mysteriously mixed my past with all that i was facing... and magically taunted me from the depths, giving me new ways to look at my today... and a hope for the future that was taste-able.

i'm thankful that even as my body deteriorates beneath me i can say from my core... G*D is enough.  he places escalators & elevators in my path to raise me into the awareness of his presence... and help me out of my discouragement.  of course, that's not to say that i can or do avoid it completely.  i'm not super-human or anything.  i struggle like everyone else.  yet... i'm surprised by the reality & frequency of these little acts of kindness that regularly show up smeared with Kingly fingerprints.

it's just G*D dropping in (or reminding me that he's already here) whenever & however he wants to give me whatever he desires... helping me mix past & present to move forward into the unknown alongside The All-Knowing & All-Able. 

but i guess it's still up to me to acknowledge or grab hold of that hint of his activity... and carry it with me wherever i go.  wisdom isn't simply having learned something from the past... it becomes wisdom only when we wear that something into this afternoon & tomorrow.

and as silly as it sounds, the silence between the ticks invites me to let go of the seconds of expectation and the minutes of pressure... and return to the basic ingredients of life where i can discover new old things.

a spoonful of taste... ...the sound of a breath... ...the journey of a leaf... ...the smell of banana bread baking... ...the winding of a clock...

...scents of G*D in their various forms.

like counting our days or numbering our steps... looking for G*D's movement expressed even in the simplest of things invites us to view life differently.  it offers a way out of our addiction to all that glitters...  away from the temptation to despair or gloat when life turns sharply to the right or left and when the formulas we use to measure significance & success & meaning disintegrate in our hands.

and that day will come... ...for each of us.

my kids ask, "isn't there a quiet setting on that thing?"  "why does it have to be so loud?"

they resist the call to jump away from all that captivates and controls their lives... as was too often true of me.  so how can i judge them?  their trail is laden with different textures than my own... at least for now.  and hours must be logged under the chimes before they too can inherit the memories that will help them connect the dots now forming in front of them.

but for me... my account is full...  and my age & circumstances have made me less dependent upon a bedazzled world. 

thanks, mother, for the clock... and for all the wisdom i'm gaining as i insert the same key you & your parents used to wind the gears as i now do each monday morning.  like so many other things these days, it's helping me grab hold of what's really important... and The-One-Who-Stretches-Out-His-Hand-Eager-To-Be-Grabbed.

ironically... this special clock that was crafted to keep time so beautifully... ...is somehow helping me transcend it. 

and in the process of it all... i'm noticing that the fog isn't quite as thick as it was yesterday.

 

Comments

[Terry Younkin]

Rewinding to 40 years ago and regressing to my hippie days...."Wow, man that was deep".....I will print it and read it over and over, thanx

[Bro # 5]

I too found the soothing chimes enlightened many fond memories!

[Tim M]

I hope that one day my words have the ability to cut to the heart of readers the way your words do mine.

Thanks for sharing the journey.

[Janet Hurt]

Reading this brought the song, "Reminders of You" by Geoff Moore to my mind, which also reflects on the common, ordinary parts of our lives that point us to Him, the lover of our souls. Keep looking up, Randy, HE IS ENOUGH!