This post was written by Kathryn Cochran, chaplain, Parkview Health.
When our first child was about two months old, I had a dentist appointment across town. I prepared for that visit well ahead of time. I made sure my husband wouldn't need the car that day. I asked a friend who lived along the route to babysit. I mapped out travel times and our daughter's feedings and diaper changes. I stocked the diaper bag. I remembered to eat.
But, despite all my best efforts, we were late leaving home.
I watched the clock on the way to my friend's house and hurried to the dentist's office. I felt my failure before I walked in the door. Sweaty and out of breath, I greeted the receptionist, "I'm here. I'm sorry."
She responded, 'You're too late. We'll have to reschedule your appointment." My heart fell. "I have a baby." I held back tears. "I don't think I can do this again." And to my relief, out of pity and mercy, they agreed to still see me that day.
Navigating time as a new mom was difficult. But even now, 16 years later, I find myself locked in a regular struggle with time. My relationship with time is one of the more painful relationships I have. I always want more of it. I fight it, ignore it, attempt to stretch it. I resent time when it just won't give. Time never relents. And many days, I feel a little defeated.
We all live moment by moment within time. We all have our own relationships with it. Some of us move through time with purpose and seeming ease. For others, time may stretch on relentlessly, feeling empty. Maybe time carries regret. Or for some, time may be a thief, taking what we long to save.
As a hospital chaplain, I regularly meet with patients, families and friends who know the pain of not enough time. They may have received a looming diagnosis. Or they have unexpectedly lost a loved one. Or they haven't yet begun to mend that frayed relationship with someone they love. Or life's demands are piling on fast.
Maybe you feel this, too.
Maybe you're coming into this season feeling a little defeated. The season of Advent invites us into a keen sense of time. As a Christian, I join with others in my faith community to remember that Christ entered our time and place. A quiet, hoped-for -- and yet sudden -- gift of pity and mercy.
We may be at the mercy of time. But even more, we are offered the mercy of God, the one whose Son became subject to the frustrations and pains of life within time. Jesus has pity, compassion, for us because he knows our sorrows. God meets us right in time. In our day-to-day lives. In our incredible losses. How? Maybe quietly. Likely unexpectedly. But always with understanding of what it is like to be here. With the right kind of pity. With mercy.
This season, we can remember that there is One who knows our sweat and struggle – our pain in time – who meets us right where we are.
