Like Sand Through the Hourglass

James 4:14 What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

Those first strums of the strings, awkward, clumsy but determined. The intent gaze from eyes impossibly blue, focused in the manner that can only be pulled off by a small child who is totally devoted to a parent.

I can still remember those days and my heart overflows with the memory. This boy, my youngest son, emulating me, his dad, determined to play music and to do so with me. What an honour.

I think about that day, which feels like it was not that long ago, with a sense of misty-eyed nostalgia because that beautiful little blonde haired cherub, our youngest child, somehow magically turned 25 years old last week.

At well over six feet tall, he looks down on me now and his hair has darkened and turned wildly curly. His childhood cuteness has been replaced by a steady confident handsomeness. Smart and considerate to others, he is also a way more gifted musician than I was on my best day. A blessing.

These milestones always get me thinking about the passing of time and how it seems to accelerate as we age.

Time is strange that way, it seems to behave differently the longer we live within the confines of it. In childhood, it moves slowly, almost politely, each season distinct and lingering. I remember when summers seemed to last forever! But as the years stack up, time seems to gather speed, compressing moments that once felt spacious into something fleeting. Days blur, milestones arrive without warning, and what once felt like a distant horizon is suddenly in the rearview mirror. Perhaps it’s because our lives grow fuller, or because fewer moments are truly new, but whatever the reason, time no longer walks beside us, it instead rushes past, reminding us that each ordinary day is quietly becoming something we will one day miss.

Somehow, 60 years on this earth are now in the rearview mirror for me and I have been blessed to have been married to my lovely wife now for over 35 years. How is that even possible?

in spite of how we perceive it, the sand continues to fall though the narrow neck of the hour glass; never ceasing, steady in its determination to pass, without regard to whether we notice or not.

Each grain of sand is ordinary on its own, yet collectively they measure our days, our loves, our losses. When we are young, the glass feels full and generous, the descent barely worth watching. As years pass, we become more aware of the soft, constant slipping, how moments seem to vanish not in great rushes, but in faithful silence. It is this quiet certainty that teaches us reverence: to hold what remains with care, knowing that the grains of sand, our time, is always in motion.

R.C Sproul said: “Time is the great leveler. It is one resource that is allocated in absolute egalitarian terms. Every living person has the same number of hours to use in every day. Busy people are not given a special bonus added on to the hours of the day. The clock plays no favorites. We all have an equal measure of time in every day. Where we differ from one another is in how we redeem the time allotted.

When something is redeemed it is rescued or purchased from some negative condition. The basic negative condition we are concerned with is the condition of waste. To waste time is to spend it on that which has little or no value.”

In his incredible book Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis so eloquently wrote:

“Our life comes to us moment by moment. One moment disappears before the next comes along: and there is room for very little in each. That is what Time is like. And of course you and I tend to take it for granted that this Time series--this arrangement of past, present, and future--is not simply the way life comes to us but the way all things really exist. We tend to assume that the whole universe and God himself are always moving on from past to future just as we do. But many learned men do not agree with that. Almost certainly God is not in Time. HIs life does not consist of moments following one another...

If you picture Time as a straight line along which we have to travel, then you must picture God as the whole page on which the line is drawn. We come to the parts of the line one by one: we have to leave A behind before we get to B, and cannot reach C until we leave B behind. God, from above or outside or all around, contains the whole line, and sees it all.”

I find that explanation of time from God’s perspective to be fascinating and almost impossible to fathom within my human limits of understanding.

So what do I take from all this?

Time feels more sacred when it’s met with gratitude, when ordinary days are received as gifts rather than obligations. By appreciating those who walk alongside me and the experiences I’m blessed to enjoy, I hope to mark time not by how quickly it passes, but by how deeply it is lived.

Going forward, I want to truly understand time as a gift from God, something not to squander, and not something to be spent carelessly or rushed through. I want to slow down enough to really see the people around me, to listen more carefully, to linger in conversations and shared laughter. I want to notice His grace in the people around me, to give thanks for shared moments, quiet joys, and even the ordinary days that carry His fingerprints.

With a grateful heart, I hope to live my remaining time prayerfully; walking more slowly, savouring the days with gratitude, loving more intentionally, and recognizing each moment as a small mercy meant to be received.

And I’ll continue to strum that guitar with a smile.

Psalm 90:12 “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”