Deut. 4:14 And the LORD commanded me at that time to teach you statutes and judgments, that ye might do them in the land whither ye go over to possess it.The clock is ticking and time is running away. The sun has risen in the sky only to dance across the terrain in a slow manner bringing with it the bursting forth of new flowers. The pen will ride across the page in a gallant explosion and the keyboard will be tapping like rain on a tin roof.
Writers are very expressive people. I can always tell a writer from say, a laymen. We’re expressive in a way that other people just can not express. We’re unique. A group that feels the burning desire within, and actually does something about it throughout every day that they breathe. We write!
I’m not one to watch the clock tic away, or gaze at the days march in procession to the past, but I become aware of time when someone says, times up, or you have ‘x’ amount of days to get this done. Then the writer in me flees and the realist in me begins biting my nails in wonder as to what I’m going to do as this, ‘time’ ticks away at my life!
Beau has been placed on the cornea transplant list, he’s had his physical, and now we wait for the call, “Come to Omaha!” I’m nervous, anxious, excited, and any other synonym you can throw in there. It’s a day we’ve waited for for two years now and it feels right this time, but time, time, time...it is ticking away and as the day closes in on me, the day when my beau looks me in the eyes and says, “You’re still beautiful!” (hey, a girl can dream can’t she?) The day he looks at me and SEES me, is a day that time will not take away from me!
Notice I didn’t say fear? I will not allow fear to seep into the pages of my life. Anxiety and nervousness are understandable, seeing I’ve lived with a blind man for two years and have been his eyeballs 24/7. I have a positive outlook on things to come. I’m looking forward to showing him around his hometown, or should I say, I’m looking forward to watching him see his hometown again? I await the day he can go to the Platte River, the nights that we attend the light show in Minden at Christmas, decorating the Christmas tree; sharing once again in all that there is to see. He’ll get to see his family again!
I just hope he doesn’t look at me and notice the wrinkling of my skin that has taken place in the past two years, or the pound or two that have been added to my waistline, or the house as it sits, cleaned rigorously by me awaiting the time, the time he can actually see this here closed down Turkey Ranch, and the roof he’s been living under for two years!
No worries, he’ll look at me and say, “You’re still beautiful!”
As time tics away the writer in me is writing, the clock is still ticking, and my heart and soul is ready to face whatever the Good Lord brings my way. After all, he’s the holder of the clock isn’t He?