When I was a child I used to enjoy playing with my toys and would soon consume our living room with toy cars, building blocks, and other toys as I fashioned my own world of imagination. However, dominating that room from its place above the fireplace was a large golden sunburst clock. As the time drew near for dinner. Even as I played, I would remain conscious of that clock and start gathering my toys to ensure that they were put away by the time my dad arrived home at precisely 4:15 every afternoon. I knew I would play again, but my attention needed to shift to other obligations.
This has been on my mind since my doctor recently told me that I had stage 3 cancer. Although my earthly father is no longer around, it reminded me that my heavenly Father may come at any time. Our mortality is never in any question, though it often requires a surprise or shock to jar us out of our stuporous walk through this world. That diagnosis reminded me, once again, of that golden clock on that long-ago wall. It’s time for me to put away my toys and attend to other things. This doesn’t mean that I shan’t play again, but it means that I must for the moment straighten my things and focus on other issues. I am reminded of the passage in the Apostle Paul’s first letter to the church at Corinth when he compared the changes that come with physical maturity to those that come with spiritual growth. “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man I put away childish things.”1 The overarching thought in the chapter is that only love endures and the purity of that love enhances its endurance. All of those things and preoccupations that separate me from perfecting my love is of no consequence. Time to clean up and get ready for Dad to get home.
1 I Corinthians 13:11
In a dry and thirsty land 