Killing time

Have you ever thought about that phrase? Think about it now. When you kill something, it's finished, spent, ended, no more--at least in an earthly sense. (After all, time means very little to God.) Time is something we can kill. I'm not saying it's alive, but it has the sense of existence and being finite. When we waste time, it's no longer there. Finis. You can't raise the dead, and you can't relive a moment that's gone by. And in sitting at a desk playing solitaire when I could be reading a fabulous book or playing with my son or even blogging means that I've killed precious moments. Who knows when my life could end, or the lives of those around me? Sure, we have a life expectancy to go by, as David keeps reminding me. But God's the only keeper of our earthly lives. We can't really have any idea when that one breath will be our last. Goodness. It sure makes me want to get up off my fat little bottom and do something more worthwhile than solitaire!

But that actually wasn't my original point. I'm actually killing time waiting for a document I need as soon as possible. We're going back to the capital on Monday--hopefully--for our second attempt at getting Timothy's passport application completed. If this document arrives, it will be a huge help. We can go without it, but I'd really rather not. And yet I'd much rather not reschedule our trip now that I've already made plans. So I just have to hope it gets faxed in the next hour. (Right.)