If you want to know how fast time flies, talk to an octogenarian. That's what I did today when my dad called to share a poem that he wrote over 40 years ago, when he was ten years younger than I am now. At the time, my dad had been married just a decade and had five children, all under the age of ten. While holding down a full-time job, he had just completed multiple years of night school to earn his M.B.A. and had undergone six intense weeks of study to pass his C.P.A. exam.
With all this formal education now behind him, Dad thought that he would have "time to burn." But life taught him otherwise. How thankful I am that my father learned this lesson early on, because time is one commodity you can't get back once you spend it. "Pay careful attention, then, to how you live—not as unwise people but as wise — making the most of the time...." (Ephesians 5:15-16).
No Time to Burn
By: James W. Fletcher
With years of study now behind,
I felt so certain I would find
That I’d have extra time galore
And not be busy anymore.
But still, each evening’s spoken for,
And weekends crowded even more
With things that clamor for my time;
(It took an hour for just this rhyme.)
The kids all need some time from Dad
For things they’ve never really had,
Like fishing trips and woodland hikes,
And fixing up their little bikes.
And Bev, for all her married life,
Has been an oft neglected wife.
She’s had her share of gifts and flowers,
But far too few of husband’s hours.
Our church continues in its need
For workers who will sow the Seed,
And visit door-to-door at night
To share with folks the Gospel light.
To meet these needs, and many more,
I’m just as busy as before;
There’s more to do than hours permit,
And there’s no time to idly sit.
But I have found, to my surprise:
I wouldn’t want it otherwise.
It took nigh forty years to learn
There’s no such thing as “time to burn.”
