I read this hot tip on some blog about writing this week: “Keep your writing timeless.”
Since I didn’t realize it would be something that would start bouncing around inside of me, I didn’t pay much attention to it and I can’t find it after a simple search.
This, however, has been a week rooted in time. Last weekend there was a migration of junior and senior high school foreigners to Beijing for a spring weekend camp. These kids look forward to the times they can be together and savor the moments. I look forward to it because there are three teen girls who ask to stay with me each fall and spring before and after camp.
This year they stayed for a week and my apartment became the hip place to be. Trust me, that is not normally the case as three fun teens is more of a drawing card than one middle-age chick! I’m not the greatest host, but I did have cookies, apples, and bread a’plenty.
Timeless, timeless, keep this timeless.
I met one girl when she toddled around, another when she was afraid to be around me, and the third when she was shorter than me. Time has marched on and not one of those statements is now true. They come from three countries, but now also reside in my heart.
Here is the timeless principle. Time is marching on. Friday afternoon a gaggle of young women sat around my living room talking about the gift of tongues and the role in the church. And I could have missed it.
I could have chosen over the years not to see them, engage them, or love them. And they me. I’m another adult passing through their lives. It’s exhausting to be in relationships and it costs time, effort, money, peace and quiet, endless picking up –whether the phone or the floor. It involves intentionality and sometimes I get tired and I want to just hole up. (Sometimes being most days as a borderline introvert.)
Time is going to march on.
Girls will grow.
Fashions will change. Trends will come and go.
You reap what you sow.
And what I forget in the mundane moment is that while I sow in the ordinary, I reap in the extraordinary. And that the extraordinary comes in surprising places.
Sunday night when all the kids got off the bus and they were tired and manic and hungry and wanting to be with their friends and tell their parents about their weekend, all at the same time, and there were bags and bodies and noise …three girls scanned the crowded room looking for me. And I for them. And I could have missed it.
I’m in a reflective phase; and I don’t know when I’ll see these girls again. But even if I were staying, they are growing and would be going. What you are filling your days with now, won’t always be what fills your day. We will reap what we sow. We live timeless principles rooted in time, slogged out in the mundane. If we’re not mindful, we can miss it.
The beauty of the extraordinary, hidden in the ordinary choices made over time. And I could have missed it.
Where was your week flavored with sowing? With reaping?