On Island Time

One of the luxuries of vacation is having time – even time to think about time. In a book I’ve been reading, it spoke about ‘island time’. I’ve not only read about it, but occasionally experienced it as well. The author of the book says that in the tropics there is a general lack of respect for time – or rather timekeeping. Time is quite special, but clocks are an aberration.

I have felt that way often during counseling sessions. Why one hour? For some sessions it’s too short, and others too long. When a “special moment” arrives I would rather throw the clock away. I don’t think God operates on the same time schedule as we do.

Do you sometimes feel that way when you wake up first thing in the morning? Like the clock should never have been invented – that you would love to just stretch time for a while and breathe in the new day before having to attend to obligations? 

How about our spiritual life? The three minute devotional often leaves us empty. It’s like having Cheetos for breakfast. It is better than nothing, but we are still hungry and unsatisfied and know that we could have done better for ourselves. Yet, the day calls and we answer. I wonder if we answer too quickly – or we try to crowd too many things into our schedule making it impossible to have room for any form of spontaneity.

Relationships often suffer under rigid adherence to time schedules.

I think of couples on their honeymoon who cannot relax and enjoy each other, but must use every minute to see and do as much as possible at their destination. Somehow I don’t think that was the original intent of taking time off after a wedding. I also know couples who leave no time to talk or be together during the typical work week. They lead parallel lives and wonder why they are unsatisfied with each other.

And I know of parents who have scheduled their children just as tightly. They don’t leave much time for the kind of relationship building that can only happen at random moments during a day. There is no such thing as “quality time” with kids – there are only quality moments in the midst of a quantity of time. A lot of grandparents seem to understand this. Age has a way of shifting our priorities.    

I am not advocating abandoning our time commitments. When I agree to a certain time, I must keep my promise. Being late is just plain selfish. I have seen quite a few cars with a bumper sticker that reads: "Always late, but worth the wait." I think to myself  "Probably not".

I know I have missed a good deal of life by being strictly on clock time. Everything is about hurry and efficiency and productivity. My focus is narrow and my goals are clearly defined. But then I remember the Garden of Eden. I’ll bet they weren’t on clock time.

When I am on island time I do not feel like I am wasting my life – rather I feel like this is what I was designed for. I can’t say that I’ve lived much of my life this way so far, but I am learning.

Maybe island time is really God time.

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. (Eccl 3:1)

Comfort and Joy

By now almost everyone is aware of what is called the “holiday blues” – waves of sadness that overtake people who have: experienced losses in their lives on or around the holidays; or who have become acutely aware of the people, finances, or relationships that have disappeared or never existed.

Our tendency when we encounter these people can be to do one or two things that are not helpful.

The first is to try to fix them or cheer them up. We offer suggestions on how to get rid of the feelings. Or we try to distract them, as if they were children that need to be redirected. Or we offer lame platitudes that only make them feel worse.

The second is to distance ourselves from them as if they carried a contagious disease. And in some ways they do. It is hard to be around people who are sad without us also being infected or affected.  It can be especially difficult during a season that is naturally joyful for us, or where we are having a hard time accessing the spirit for ourselves.

We, as a culture, don’t seem to deal well with grief in ourselves or others. There is a tendency towards denial of our limitations, whether dealing with our or others lifespan, our accomplishments, our capabilities or other forms of personal power. But we are limited, and when we come up against one of these barriers, there is loss involved, and where there is loss there is sadness. We feel our powerlessness and lack of control and we grieve.

So what do we do when we find ourselves with friends and family experiencing the holiday blues?

We come alongside. We just sit with them and listen to them. We offer the warmth of our presence, our smiles and our touch. We offer them a safe haven and let them grieve.

What if we are the one going through the sadness?

We need to not isolate from people. We need to seek community and get involved. We need to let people comfort us when they are willing. And we need to look outward and try to focus on others. Nothing seems to lift our spirit like serving others in some capacity.

One way to change negative associations with the holidays is to build new, positive memories. We can initiate new rituals (like participating in volunteer efforts) and respond affirmatively to invitations to gather.

So where is the joy?

We can turn to God in prayer. We serve a God who understands our pain. Jesus experienced great loss and pain during his time in the world. He knew He could not leave us alone in our suffering and so He sent His Holy Spirit to dwell with us and comfort us. He promised that He would turn our mourning into dancing.   

2 Corinthians 1:    ³ All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. ⁴ He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.