Dear Lord, give me time. Twenty-four hours in a day simply isn’t enough. Not this week. Or last week. Or next week. It should be alright by mid-November though, so if I can’t get more time, help me make the best use of the time I have.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been this busy. So busy that eating and sleeping are taking a back seat. It doesn’t help that I view deadlines as immovable objects. Once committed, I have to deliver. I need to stop committing in the first place.
And yet, amidst all this burning of midnight oil, I’m reminded of a poem by Robert Frost – A Time to Talk.
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
And I know that no matter what else is going on in my world, no matter how much effort it takes, it’s important that I make time for those friendly visits. They might be shorter than I’d like, or not as frequent, but they still need to happen.
So apologies if I seem a tad distracted, or am later than usual in returning a call or a text. Or perhaps I haven’t called at all. It’s not that I’m not thinking of you or wondering how you’re doing. It’s not that I’m not curious about how life is faring in your corner of the world. It’s just that I’m on a learning curve as to how best to manage my time and negotiating that first hurdle whose name is over-commitment.
But despite the angst and the sleeplessness and the bone-tiredness that’s currently my lot, I’m grateful to have the work coming in, to enjoy what I do, and to be able to see an end to it all.