It’s about time. . .
It seems that I have been running late . . . behind . . . past due . . . for a long time now. Often when I enter a room, my greeting is, It’s about time you got here, underscoring my behindedness in all things.
A part of me wants to respond But! But I sent you . . . my prayers . . . a card . . . a phone call . . . a warm wish . . . friends . . .
The buts most often die on my lips unspoken, for the ones reminding me that it’s about time are being quite literal and they’re right. It is about time. . . the time we make as well as the time we take . . . the time we make just to sit and be with others.
Cards and calls and prayers all matter, but there’s nothing quite like physical presence when it comes to comfort and friendship and reassurance.
The ultimate in our understanding of the Christ event, I think, is this reality of presence. For a long time, God had been sending hints and voices and promises. But one day, God came in person, all wrapped up in swaddle.
And in that moment, all humanity inhaled love and exhaled its new understanding . . . it’s about time.