Tempus fugit

"But meanwhile it flees: time flees irretrievably, while we wander around, prisoners of our love of detail." Virgil

Another year of time has flown beyond reach and again I'm confounded by its swift and silent passage. 2011 joins 40 other years that have flown beyond my reach. I'm neither fully nostalgic nor profoundly untouched by the passing of 2011. Old Year's End seems to become more of a way to mark the length of the journey than anything else.

Here is my question this morning: "I've journeyed past 40 annual markers on my way to what destination?" Is it Life; Death, Self-realization, or perhaps just Self-indulgence? Perhaps the journey leads to where time flees?

By now you may have realized I'm a philosophical type of person. Not for me the traditional celebration of New Year's Eve. Joining the throng who are delighted to clean the slate and try again to be the human being we'd prefer others to imagine we are, if we could only muster the will to actually pay the price for being that person.

I genuinely believe the passing of a year is both sad and joyful. One less year left to live and yet perhaps something unimaginably wonderful is awaiting our arrival in the next year that is being offered us.

Whatever else is true the fact is, that this year has flown beyond my reach, and as 2011 sinks below the horizon into the unreachable past, slowly morphing into history, I'm compelled to ask myself if it was worth the effort of living through.

I'm glad to say I feel it was. I'm aware that the life I drape around my shoulders this morning is a little more worn, but perhaps also a little wiser and more profound, than the life I draped in 2010.

My game plan for seeing this year's end come to pass is to give the old year its due and reflect on both the problems and promises it delivered to my doorstep. Then later today my wonderful wife and I will drive to Kansas City and celebrate the imminent arrival of a virgin year as yet untouched and untainted by my insatiable appetite for the love of detail.

2011 has generously supplied me with priceless gift of time. I’ve used and abused it, yet in hindsight I’m unsure if I’d make many alterations to my choices. To quote one of my favorite authors: “It was both the best of times and the worst of times.” I do hope 2012 offers less of a roller coaster like ride, but whatever it brings it too will eventually flee to that place beyond my reach.

I’ll leave you with an Irish benediction.

'Go mbeire muid beo ar an am seo arís.'

Translation

May we be alive at this time next year.

Yellow Brick Road

There is this awesome set of scenes in the Wizard of Oz where Judy Garland meets a group of unlikely heroes who join her quest to find a way home.

The best teams are built from a eclectic group of individuals with different gifts and needs but with one goal. The picture above is of some of YLC St. Louis' Committee. Each of them have astounding gifts; skills and talents. I think about what they can do naturally and brilliantly and realize that without them I'd be one of those eccentric guys trying to be a one-man band. Over-burdened with instruments, unfocused and just plain odd!

So I'm in awe of my fellow travelers as we walk down a very unusual road looking to create a safe place where people can seek out an answer to life's complexity. The only difference between me and Judy Garland is that if the flying monkeys turn up I'm going to try and recruit them! How cool would it be to have flying monkeys on our team? I have to confess the wicked with had some cool team mates. Ahh well........ sigh....... back to reality..... actually now that I think on it there are quite a few differences between me and Judy Garland..... sigh......

The people in this picture have all met and recognized a mutual need. So we joined together and walked together.

What do you think it takes to be on the Yellow Brick Road? A tornado or just a deep desire for the place we call home?

The Counting Game

Last week I was in Kansas at a Young Life staff conference for our old people in their mid 30's and above. We spent some time looking at John 4 and the story of the "woman at the well."

What hit me was that the story begins with some religious people getting their panties in a twist about the number of people who are going to Jesus. All these "good" people were turning up to be baptized and it was putting the religious establishment's nose seriously out of joint. So Jesus packs up the revival meeting and moves on. He heads to a community of people that doesn't count and then talks to the person who counts least in that community. The narrative sweeps from a traditional culturally religious scene to a counter cultural experience with those outside tradition.

When I was a kid back in Ireland when we played games there was a constant cry in almost any game we ever played. "That doesn't count!" It meant that whatever just happened couldn't be counted as a point towards winning the game. A heated debate would then ensue to determine whether it did indeed "count."

I think so many of us wonder who and what counts. And if we ever reach a point of confidence in the fact that we do indeed count, then we join the counters, those who determine who else counts.
Last week I was delighted to have some serious "counters" tell me that I count and even should be considered a counter in my own right.

But since then I've been wrestling with the uncomfortable realization that the only people who counted things in the Bible were the bad guys. Big black hats, curly moustaches and some handy rope near a railroad track.
I wonder what life would be like if I just stopped evaluating everyone else and quit the counting game.

What do you think? Are you someone who counts? Do you think there is a counting game in life? If there is should we quit playing?