“…teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom.”
Psalm 90:12
I’ve said it before — I’m a morning person. I love to be up before dawn, and I’ve often done my best work as the sun is rising (in a lot of things…including in watching the sunrise). This even applies to my work. I remember the old Army commercials that said “We do more before 9 AM than most people do all day.” I’m one of those who does more than the Army before 9 AM – the reason why they have to say “most” instead of “all” (and where I work, most people don’t even come to work anymore until at least 8).
I’m a man of routine. I know what it takes to get ready for something, and I’m usually pretty close to being on target. I like to arrive early if not right on time, and I can’t fathom people who seem to live in their own worlds when it comes to where and when they’re going places.
A typical day: I get up. I get breakfast. I get coffee. I read. I write. I feel blessed that I’m married to a woman who has no qualms about staying up until 1 AM watching Chinese dramas and then sleeping till noon. I’m in bed before 9 most evenings, and I don’t even set my alarm unless I know I have to absolutely be somewhere at a time not typical. And even then, I can probably count on one hand all of the times an alarm has awakened me over the past 5 years.
I’m fairly simple that way…easy to please. But that doesn’t make me Superman. Especially not lately. Maybe SAD (seasonal affective disorder) is a thing with me. More so lately. Like allergies, it gets worse as I get older, mainly because I’m able to tolerate less. The days of me staying up late (and for me, that means any time after 10PM) are long gone. I get tired much more easily, both physically and mentally. The routine isn’t working like it used to, and I’m annoyed by people for perfectly innocent actions – like my wife getting up earlier than usual and wanting me to make her morning cup of coffee.
But I might just chalk this up to all the little things that pile up. A string of frustrations with which I could deal more resiliently when I was younger. Maybe having the light at the end of the tunnel visible, only to be reminded by the death of someone I knew – a recent retiree – that all of our plans may come to naught. And even knowing that my life is in God’s hands…as it always has been…still has me on edge, mainly because I want to make good use of the time I have left.
Just a few days ago, I wrote a few thoughts on Romans, chapter 12 – one of those parts of the Bible that tell us how to actually live as Christians. Now, I’m reminded of a passage in Colossians, chapter 4, which does the same: “5 Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. 6 Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” Those words – “making the best use of time” – seem important to me, now more than ever. And at least some of that should be informed by the very next verse, especially the part that says, “so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” Together, they ask me the question, “are you living in a way that makes a difference to those who might want to know the reason for the hope you have (see 1 Peter 3:15 for that)? Are you ready with an answer for who you really are?”
Maybe this is the routine into which I must launch myself each day…