Time Management {Quotable}


O Lord, in whose hands are life and death, by whose power I am sustained, and by whose mercy I am spared, look down upon me with pity. Forgive me that I have until now so much neglected the duty which Thou has assigned to me, and suffered the days and hours of which I must give account to pass away without any endeavor to accomplish Thy will.  Make me to remember, O God, that every day is Thy gift, and ought to be used according to Thy command. Grant me, therefore, so to repent of my negligence, that I may obtain mercy from Thee, and pass the time which Thou shalt yet allow me in diligent performance of Thy commands, through Jesus Christ. Amen—Samuel Johnson (1709-1784).

What are you doing today?

Weekend Plans

Do you remember the simpler days, when life didn’t seem to propel you out of the things you really value?

I don’t know if I remember those days are not.  I know we talk about the “good old days,” but after traveling back in time four decades by watching three seasons of Mad Men I realize every generation must make the choice to live the life they really want.  The temptation to cheat our family and friends out of the love we have for them is no more enticing now as it was then.

So this weekend, I will be the me I wake up each morning wishing I will be:

I will begin today by going shopping with a friend…because she asked me to and I like being with her.

I will spend the evening with my hubs.  I will listen to his stories and laugh at his jokes…because I like what he has to say.

I will hang out on the couch with my kids.  I will find out their latest video game score & explore their feelings about the start of school…because these are the things that are really important to them.

I will walk the dog…because he likes a change of scenery.

I will spend time with my church family…because they are beautiful people.

I will call my sister and talk to her about something light…because her husband just lost his job and she needs people to deliver smiles to her.

I will put a care package together for my nephew…because Afghanistan is a long way away from anything that feels like home.

I will do these things…because I’ve being saying I would for too long and life is too short to not do what matter matters most.

What will you do this weekend?

“where is the Life we have lost in living?”

Choruses from The Rock


T.S. Eliot, 1934


The Eagle soars in the summit of Heaven,
The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit.

O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying!

The endless cycle of idea and action,

Endless invention, endless experiment,

Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness;

Knowledge of speech, but not of silence;

Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word.

All our knowledge brings us nearer to death,

But nearness to death no nearer to God.

Where is the Life we have lost in living?

Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries

Brings us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.

The lot of man is ceaseless labor,

Or ceaseless idleness, which is still harder,

Or irregular labour, which is not pleasant.

I have trodden the winepress alone, and I know

That it is hard to be really useful, resigning

The things that men count for happiness, seeking

The good deeds that lead to obscurity, accepting

With equal face those that bring ignominy,

The applause of all or the love of none.

All men are ready to invest their money

But most expect dividends.

I say to you: Make perfect your will.

I say: take no thought of the harvest,

But only of proper sowing.

The world turns and the world changes,
But one thing does not change.

In all of my years, one thing does not change,

However you disguise it, this thing does not change:

The perpetual struggle of Good and Evil.

You neglect and belittle the desert. 

The desert is not remote in southern tropics

The desert is not only around the corner,

The desert is squeezed in the tube-train next to you,

The desert is in the heart of your brother.

Let me show you the work of the humble. Listen.

In the vacant places

We will build with new bricks

Where the bricks are fallen

We will build with new stone

Where the beams are rotten

We will build with new timbers

Where the word is unspoken

We will build with new speech

There is work together

A Church for all

And a job for each

Every man to his work.

What life have you, if you have not life together?

There is not life that is not in community,

And no community not lived in praise of GOD.

And now you live dispersed on ribbon roads,

And no man knows or cares who is his neighbor

Unless his neighbor makes too much disturbance,

But all dash to and fro in motor cars,

Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.

Much to cast down, much to build, much to restore


I have given you the power of choice, and you only alternate
Between futile speculation and unconsidered action.

And the wind shall say: “Here were decent godless people:

Their only monument the asphalt road

And a thousand lost golf balls.”

When the Stranger says: “What is the meaning of this city ?

Do you huddle close together because you love each other?”

What will you answer? “We all dwell together

To make money from each other”? or “This is a community”?

Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger.

Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions.

There is one who remembers the way to your door:

Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.

You shall not deny the Stranger.

They constantly try to escape

From the darkness outside and within

By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good.

But the man that is shall shadow

The man that pretends to be.

Then it seemed as if men must proceed from light to light, in the light of the Word,

Through the Passion and Sacrifice saved in spite of their negative being;

Bestial as always before, carnal, self seeking as always before, selfish and purblind as ever before,

Yet always struggling, always reaffirming, always resuming their march on the way that was lit by the light;

Often halting, loitering, straying, delaying, returning, yet following no other way.

But it seems that something has happened that has never happened before: though we know not just when, or why, or how, or where.

Men have left GOD not for other gods, they say, but for no God; and this has never happened before

That men both deny gods and worship gods, professing first Reason,

And then Money, and Power, and what they call Life, or Race, or Dialectic.
There came one who spoke of the shame of Jerusalem
 And the holy places defiled;

Peter the Hermit, scourging with words.

And among his hearers were a few good men,

Many who were evil,

And most who were neither,

Like all men in all places.

In spite of all the dishonour,

the broken standards, the broken lives,

The broken faith in one place or another,

There was something left that was more than the tales

Of old men on winter evenings.

Our age is an age of moderate virtue

And moderate vice

The soul of Man must quicken to creation.

Out of the meaningless practical shapes of all that is living or lifeless

Joined with the artist’s eye, new life, new form, new colour.

Out of the sea of sound the life of music,

Out of the slimy mud of words, out of the sleet and hail of verbal imprecisions,

Approximate thoughts and feelings, words that have taken the place of thoughts and feelings,

There spring the perfect order of speech, and the beauty of incantation.

The work of creation is never without travail



The visible reminder of Invisible Light.

O Light Invisible, we praise Thee!

Too bright for mortal vision.

What have we to do but stand with empty hands and palms turned upwards in an age which advances progressively backwards?