Making Good Time

If someone ever asked me how a road trip went before children came onto the scene, my first answer was usually, “It went well; I made good time.” At least, that was the response I always hoped to give at the conclusion of a drive from Atlanta up to school in Charlottesville, Virginia. 

I had the drive down pat: 285 East to 85 North to 29 North.  Sometimes I would even pack a lunch, snacks, and drinks in order to limit the 8 hour drive to one stop for gas. 

Whether I was yearning to get home to my family for Christmas break or couldn’t wait to be back on grounds and reunited with all my friends at UVA, my road trips were all about “making good time.”

Oh, how things change…  (I am smiling as I type.)

This past weekend, our family was able to slip away from our new home (which we love but still has boxes everywhere and pictures on the floor rather than on the walls) and head to the beach with some dear friends.  We were contemplating what time to leave in the morning.  I tried to factor in a lot of leeway, so I planned for 8:45 am.  Meade thought 7:15 was achievable.  Well, we were both off.  We pulled out at 9:15.  And a 5 hour drive turned into a 7 hour adventure.

I laughed on the way to the beach, remarking, “There is no such thing as making good time with children.”  That goal merely cannot be on the radar screen.  That would be a recipe for unnecessary stress.  Even a drive-thru meal takes at least thirty minutes (we’ve been known to sit in a parking space at a fast food joint for over an hour eating, changing diapers, feeding boys, regrouping, etc).  You have to release control and know you will simply get to the destination when you get there. Period.

Here the boys are taking a break at one of the "fast food/parked car stops" I mentioned above.

I was considering this thought again on our drive home Sunday, that of “making good time.”  As cheesy as this may sound, it’s as though the Lord whispered to my heart, “You can still make good time. In fact, this is my hope for you.” 

As a parent, spouse, friend, neighbor, employee, roommate, whatever role you may have, we all can partner with God to make our time into something good, beautiful, brimming with rich value.

 Our brunch stop above... then the most random Barbecue place I have EVER been to below for a late lunch. Yes, it is called Heavy's and it had more taxidermy than a hunting lodge.  :)

As we stopped for the umpteenth time on that journey home, I focused not on the minutes peeling off the clock but on making good time instead… the time that counts. The time that great memories are made of. The time where we are truly in the moment and not letting the clock rob, the urgency of the to do list kill, or our attitudes in the tedious or painful moments destroy.  Jesus came to give us freedom and life and to redeem our time.  For our times are in His hands…

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

John 10:10

“But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hands.”

Psalm 31:14, 15b