I did not even know time was something to be anxious about. But here it is showing up in some of the current events I am reading about—Time Anxiety. This is another something (malady?)  that has bubbled to the surface because of the pandemic. Time anxiety is defined as a form of  chronophobia, “the fear of the passage of time.” It is a dread that some express that time is slipping away too quickly; their time on earth is limited; they have wasted their life; or it’s too late to accomplish their goals in life. In other words, there is too much to do and too little time in which to do it. Also known as every day.

I talked about the Great Resignation last fall. It is still happening. Millions of U.S. workers continue to resign from their current jobs every month. But that is not the whole story. While these millions have left their jobs, we have near full employment of the work force. The labor shortages are in the low wage, less rewarding jobs. The lock-down period of the pandemic was characterized by a Great Exploration. An unprecedented number took the opportunity to sign-up for on-line enrichment and educational classes. Many invested in their life hobbies by creating a “side hustle,” or new income stream. Working from home eliminated commuter time and vehicle expenses. Many have chosen to “retire” to give a deeper meaning to their relationships and explore their spiritual nature. Others have found higher wages in less stressful jobs. According to some sociologists, political activism is replacing traditional religious fervor and volunteerism. 

The answer to time anxiety is a re-evaluation of what truly matters, followed by consistent actions to “seize the day.” Poverty, disability, perpetual debt, and medical uncertainty are overwhelming. Anxiety overload is detrimental to our well-being no matter the circumstances.   Things do not always work out for everyone the way we plan, but Psalm 90 is a good place to start. Here are a few other Scriptures I have found helpful: 

For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, “Do not fear; I will help you.”   (Isaiah 41:13)

When I am afraid, I will put my trust in you.    (Psalm 56:3)

Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. (Matthew 6:33)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.   (Philippians 4:6)

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Redeem the time. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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When I walk into a bookstore, any bookstore, I become a treasure hunter. I am looking for just the right book to treasure, at least for the moment. Sometimes the treasure is the bookstore itself. Discovering a used bookstore is, for me, like finding a new outlet mall for some I know. I try to poke around in bookstores wherever I may be traveling. My favorite kind of bookstore looks like my church office did before the great disruption, with stacks of things piled here and there.*

Dorothy and I spent a wonderful few days one April wandering the streets of Paris. After visiting Notre Dame Cathedral, before the great fire, we crossed the street and sat down for a cup of coffee at one of those outdoor cafes we had always seen in the movies. We watched the people and talked of the blessings God provides. As we started walking back toward our hotel, I spotted one of the most famous bookstores in the entire world, Shakespeare and Company. Of course, we went in it.

This discovery was like opening a treasure chest filled with gold coins and precious jewels—stacks of new and used books filling shelves, nooks and crannies everywhere. The shop is three stories tall. An old cat kept an annoyed eye on the place. People with legal pads, laptops and even portable typewriters were writing their inspired thoughts and future bestsellers. It was part avant-garde commune and part Airbnb, with cots here and there and little rooms for people to sleep—some staying for weeks. Many famous and not-so-famous writers got their start researching and writing at this bookstore. Its scandalous early years add to its mystique. And the elderly owner at the time of our visit, George Whitman, directed all the apparent chaos of a typical day in his store. Mr. Whitman died a few years ago at the age of 98. In the midst of all of his books, George Whitman hung a sign that paraphrased Hebrews 13:2—Do not be inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Look for treasures (and angels.) And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

*The great disruption refers to this time in history where my eclectic pastor’s study has been turned into a neat and orderly looking video studio. Finding where things were put away is also a treasure hunt.

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In the weeks following my high school graduation my parents and younger sisters moved to Birmingham, Alabama. The next year I moved to Birmingham to live with the family and a newborn baby sister, Dawn, and finish college. After graduation, I moved to Ft. Worth, Texas.  Two weeks later my family moved to Atlanta, except for my sister, Denise, who had married in Birmingham. I had never been to Atlanta, so finding their house that Christmas was a real challenge. When I graduated from seminary my family moved to Greenwood, South Carolina, except for my sister, Diane, who had married in Atlanta. A pattern was emerging; every time I graduated my family moved further away. Dorothy and I had this running conversation about me never really knowing the way to my own parents’ home. Over their 20 years in Greenwood, my parents and youngest sister lived in at least three different places. Mom and Dad made the move to a small town called Pelham, Alabama for their final years. 

Dorothy’s parents, on the other hand, lived in the same house for 52 years. The highways between Tulsa and Waco, Texas were the problem—always under construction.  They were constantly littered with multiple detours and by-passes. The map lady at AAA became our friend. If we had only bought stock in that orange barrel company.  Dorothy and I tried to alternate visits with our parents every other year to spend as much time as we could with our families, who lived hundreds of miles in opposite directions from Tulsa. We came to learn that home, for us, is less about geography and more about deep connections. It’s less about place and more about relationship. It’s less about destination and more about shared love. 

During this season of disruption and confusion, you may know someone who is having trouble finding home again. They may feel like they are lost in a maze with broken connections, broken relationships, and broken hearts. Listen to their stories. Introduce them to the family of faith. Share the gift of grace. Invite them home to God.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Find the way home. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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