Time has me all a mess. Some days I can't tell this summer from last or how old I am. Some days... most days, seem to just sneak up on me -- "how could it already be today?!" How is my daughter almost a year old when I could swear by the moon that I was pregnant only yesterday? I find myself in the paradox of missing the before and longing for the not yet, all the while not wanting each day to end. What are we to do with time? Such a confining unit that measures what? Our success? Our aptitude? This finite body of mine is longing for the everlasting. We just weren't made for time - for all its alarms, endings, and deadlines. We were made for the Infinite One.
p.s. don't get scared by the second pic - i photoshopped out my arm that was keeping M safe.
1st pic credit: kelseyfreemancreative.com