Making Time

I've been so blessed these last couple of days -

With time.

Time, in the midst of all the hurrying and pressing.

Time to get up and spend time and still have time.

Time to play.

Time to sing.

Time.

Time to let fingers press "G" and "D" and "G" again,

Moving through some of my favorite songs to strum,

Today, strangely, beginning with one of my own,

Still, as always, ending with my all-time favorite song.

Time to let fingers press keys,

Time to repeat the familiar movements of "From This One Place",

Time to improvise on "Still Holding Me".

Time.

Time to be reminded of why it is important to me to take this time,

To spend this time strumming and pressing,

To pour myself out into the music,

Even though many of the songs I have played a hundred times before . . .

And will likely play a hundred times again.

Time to be reminded of why I love this, why this is my passion.

Time to play as though I'll never have to stop -

Because I never want to stop.

I forgot how good it feels to take this time to pour myself out into song,

Even though it means one less movie, this is better anyway.

Even though it means one more (or more than one more) scratch on the pickguard, this is why I got the guitar in the first place:

Because it feels so good to play.

A friend told me not so long ago that you make time for the important things.

You make time for God.

You make time for family.

You make time for your passions.

If you don't, the time will be gone, spent on the unimportant.

All too soon there's no time left.

We think we don't have enough time.

We do.

We have just enough time to make the time.

It's worth it.

 
I have been reminded of how good it is to make the time.

All too soon, the last chord comes, and so do little ones, begging for a trip to the library.

All too soon, the last chord comes, and my own to-do list seems to stretch even longer and I know I've made time and now I have to move on.

The last chord comes all too soon.

I wish it wouldn't.

I want to keep playing.

It comes anyway.

It comes time to move on.

Still, there is hope . . .

Hope that there will be more time to make time tomorrow.

Hope.

The last chord comes.

 
I hold for the budding photographer, who seemingly just yesterday didn't know how to say "picture".

How did the time pass so quickly?

Then comes the "yes" to the library trip,

Then comes the crossing off of things on my to-do list,

Then comes dinner and quiet and writing,

Then comes the wondering:

How did the time pass so quickly?

Still, I am running out of time, with promises of help mixing tonight.

Now.

I hope -

I hope there will be more time tomorrow,

At least enough to make time . . .

Before it flies.

In case the somewhat obvious pattern was hard to catch, my all-time favorite song ,"Less Like Scars", and one of my favorite songs to play on the piano, "From This One Place", are both written and preformed by Sara Groves.  The last sentence, "Before it flies.", refers to the song "Fly", written and preformed by Christa Wells.  Many thanks to these incredible singer-songwriters for their beautiful music.

The song of my own I played on the guitar was "How it Should Be" from my album Things on My Mind.  "Still Holding Me" is also one of my own songs, which will be released on my Pour E.P. as a bonus track.