Making Time

Dave told me an itinerary of things he needed to do, things that bulged his hours to the breaking.
I reminded him of one he had forgotten, one he had no time left for.
He paused a minute then said, "Well, I'll just have to make time."
A little boy, never far from his Daddy, looked up with question marks for pupils and asked, "HOW?"
How do you make time?
What tools do you wield to fashion an exquisite hour?

4 years old

5 years old

6 years old

7 years old

My pumpkin baby turns 7 this week.
His mouth is full of random sized teeth. He likes to use every roll of tape in the house to "create". He never puts the toothpaste away. Or his toothbrush. He's his Daddy's shadow.
He wants to know how to make time.

I can't tell him that.
But I can tell him how to make his time count.

I can tell him that every minute spent seeking God counts.
Every hour given to serving another counts.
Every day that sees him growing, soul expanding, counts.
The moments of prayer, the hours of agony, the tears, the laughter, the life, lifted up to God, counts.

And really, all of these 7 precious years, have been spent teaching him how to make time, how to make his time count.

I can't wait to see what God makes of this child.
I am so thankful for the Grace that gave me a front row seat.
And I praise God in advance, for Rowan's life, full of days that count.