Tag Archives: Time

Processing Dreams

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2017

I dreamt last night we exchanged houses with some neighbors. Little by little, we carried our stuff into theirs while they moved theirs into ours. We had no help because all our friends were old, and we needed to care for them in the midst of the chaos.

What was my brain trying to sort out in my sleep? The whole scene felt chaotic and stressful. Am I anticipating Christmas?

Visual: I’m standing in a canoe, and a strong wind knocks me out of the boat. The shallow water poses no threat, but I’m peeved that I’m soaked and cold. Jesus invites me to join Him by a fire on the beach.

“You know,” He says reflectively, “I made the ocean, I made the wind. Heck, I even made the canoe!”

“Jesus!” I exclaim, “You’re not supposed to use the word heck.”

“Why not?” He replies. “I made that too!” And He laughs.

I don’t think it’s funny. Hell is no laughing matter.

“Hell itself? No,” He says soberly. “But creation, yes.”

“Karen,” He continued. “You don’t like being in a rocky canoe, do you? It’s too …”

“Wet!” I smile. “And I can’t get anything done. I have a long to-do list, you know … goals to accomplish, places to go, things to do.”

“That’s the issue, then, isn’t it? You’re feeling the shakiness of time.”

“Yes, Lord. I crave uninterrupted time alone to think time and to plan.”

Now that I understand what I’m fretting about, I need help sorting it out and setting it aside.

“Will you teach me, Lord? I trust You to bring to mind what I need to know and what I need to do and when.”

A 2025 Update. I’ve learned over the years not to ignore upsetting dreams. I pay attention to the emotion I feel when I wake up, and with the Lord’s help come to a place of peace. What a difference it makes in how I approach the rest of my day!

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Time Management

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal June 7, 2017

There are seasons and rhythms of our lives when things go dead and sometimes when they sprout to new life. Years, months, weeks, and days cycle round and round. What I do this day may seem very insignificant, yet small habits yield big results and can set the course of my history.

I seem to be in a special season right now, however brief, without clients daily clamoring for my time. For three days my husband will be golfing, and I have potential alone time. I think of all the things I could do with this precious gift, and I feel conflicted. I know what my heart wants to do, and that is to write. And so, I indulge myself. It feels like pure joy and delight to organize thoughts, rearrange them, and make them permanent by recording them. I asked the girls about writing a blog, and I got a resounding yes! Is this a priority? Do I have the time . . .?

VISUAL: I’m a disciple in the boat on the Sea of Galilee, and Jesus is about to walk by. I call out to Him, “Will you join me in the boat?”

He is more than willing. He climbs in, sits, and hands me some bread. It’s just the two of us.

“You’re worried,” He comments.

Yes, I suppose I am. I wait for Him to tell me what about, but I know Him well. He will pause to let me figure it out.

“I’m worried that I will not use my time wisely. Time is a finite commodity.”

I find it easier to function with a predetermined schedule, decisions in place, and brain on autopilot. It reminds me of scheduled time at boarding school with bells and sirens that dictated our routine. Decisions were made for us. Summers, on the other hand, were wide open with no expectations, and laziness was sure to follow.

“Go on,” He prompts.

“I don’t want to waste it.”

“Are you wasting it?” He asks.

I don’t think I am. Then what’s the issue? It’s a matter of portioning it out to match the allotted time I have at my disposal.

“You’re feeling rushed—like you want to do what your heart wants to do, but your head is giving you alternative coulds and shoulds.”

Yes! That’s it! So how do I silence those words and voices? I want to write, but my head says, “You need to file and exercise and clean house and visit neighbors.” This issue is about alone time—there are certain things I can do best when I’m uninterrupted.

Jesus leans back, hands behind His head and smiles at me. “You have a problem, then, don’t you?”

I know He’s teasing me. I’m way too serious and stressed over this.

“What do you want to do?” He asks.

“Write!” I exclaim.

“But . . .?”

I feel rising exhilaration . . . and guilt.

I ask Him for a visual. He shows me a row of boxes, some smaller, some larger, each containing one task on my to-do list.

During my time allotted for each box, I have permission to compartmentalize and block out all the other thoughts that belong to other boxes.

And so, just for today, I’ll write, uninterrupted, without guilt or remorse. I’ll seize the precious time that I have and just focus. The dirty dishes can wait.

A 2024 Update. I smile as I read back on this journal entry. I feel no guilt now whatsoever over taking time out of a busy (or not-so-busy) schedule to write. It’s one of my default activities along with sitting at my dining room table arranging jigsaw puzzle pieces. Reading a book in the middle of the day, though—now that feels decadent. Perhaps I need to address any emotion behind that thought!

On Wasting Time

Posted on by under Choices

From my 2012 Journal. I think I have a skewed attitude toward time. My dad was extremely punctual—which was a little comical to watch in the context of a remote African village in the 50s where time was ordered around the seasons of harvest or full moons. Our lives growing up were regimented and predictable—breakfast and dinner at 6 o’clock sharp. Lunch at noon. Family devotions before breakfast and after dinner—without fail. Work hard in between. (I identified with the hymn, “Work for the Night Is Coming.”) And don’t get me started on the regimen of boarding school bells and sirens . . . !

But I loved it! I actually thrive on routine and schedules. There was a long season in my life when, no kidding, I planned and regimented every minute of my day. As a result, I was extremely efficient and productive. It did not leave room, however, for relationship-building. Marriage and children knocked me off that routine, and I slowly began to adapt to fluidity in my schedule. But I still don’t like wasting time.

We have a clock in every room of our house, and I even wear a timepiece on my wrist to make sure I keep to specified deadlines. I’m a task-oriented person. If I don’t have a running list of goals to accomplish, I feel at loose ends, unproductive, lazy . . . like I’m wasting time. Vacations for personal pleasure and decadence feel wasteful of . . . time.

How about the word “busy”? What does that mean? If someone calls me on the phone and asks, “Are you busy?” I never know how to answer that. I’m always doing something—even if it’s resting:  I’m busy resting or reading or cleaning my house or praying with someone. I’m not sitting on the couch staring off into space, catatonic. A better question might be, “May I interrupt what you’re doing?”

So what does wasting time mean, exactly? Is use the opposite of waste? If I waste food, it means I don’t use it up. But what if I have an excessive amount of it? Do I share it? Freeze it? Or throw it in the garbage? How do I waste water? I suppose that depends on my region. If I live in an arid climate, the definition might be quite different if I lived in a rain forest. How about wasted opportunities? That’s a harder concept. Sometimes we’re limited by our resources or our emotional state or our internal drives.

When does “relaxing” morph into “wasting”? And where in all this discussion does balance come in?

Okay, I’m done with the rambling in my head. Anyone want to weigh in?

What to Do When You Can’t Do

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Peace, Scripture

Jesus judged me and counted me faithful and trustworthy and appointed me to this ministry. (The Apostle Paul, I Timothy 1:12 AM)

From my 2009 Journal. My child-rearing days taxed my time and energy, but these days I wonder sometimes why I have so much free time. You’d think I’d be happy to sit around and read novels and watch TV or do jigsaw puzzles. But I want to fill more of my time with ministry and less with fluff. That’s when I think of the Apostle Paul sitting for months in prison. Did he long to get back into the ministry of preaching? Did he ever feel like he was spinning his wheels? Missionary life was exciting and challenging and suited his drive for evangelism. I know he used some of this down time talking to the other prisoners and guards and writing epistles, but I suspect time weighed heavily on him.

How much of my time is God-directed and passion-driven vs. drifting along day by day, with no goals or excitement to fill my time? Where is my focus—on TIME or on my character development? I fear I think too much like an American—filling time is the driving force and factor of our days. In a warm-culture setting with no calendars or appointments or clocks or watches, relationships become central. Maybe I need to go back to my African roots and sit for awhile under a tree. God appointed me to a ministry of inner healing prayer, so I may as well let Him be in charge of my time as well.

2020. Though I wrote this over ten years ago, it seems to fit today’s challenges with social distancing and forced isolation. I’m grateful that I’m still able to carry on with ministry through electronic means.

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