Time Well Spent

While in Utah for Christmas, we visited a woman my sister had befriended.  She is a former professor.  She is brilliant.  And she has suffered a brain injury.

Speaking can be difficult, and controlling her body can be even more so.  She has had to move to a nursing home to help with all of that.

We walked in to her room, and every inch of every wall was covered in paintings.  Thought provoking, interesting paintings.  I had stepped into a world of bright color, and almost instantly felt envious of the time she had to do them.  Painting has been on the back burner of my mind for quite some time now.  As we spoke with her, she gave us a church lesson she had been working on.  It was incredible ... the detail, the thought, the cross-referencing and studying ... I was humbled by the depth of her knowledge and again envious of the time that she had to gain it.

However, it was difficult for her to put everything across to us.  I wondered what it would be like to be in a community home, with people to care for every physical need.  Her body is damaged, but her brain is alive and teeming with wisdom.  She has all the time in the world for her studies and paintings, but lacks the ability to share it.

I felt honored to hear it, what little I could.

She sent us home with paintings, and when I look at them, I think about the value of time well spent.  This woman has plenty of reason to sit in a corner and despair.  But she doesn't.  She takes all this time that is now laid at her feet, and uses it.

How can I despair at the lack of time I now have for personal growth?  My time is not my own any more.  But that does not mean that it is being wasted.  I know that my time, though spent differently, is being spent well.  And that, in turn, provides me with just the kind of personal growth that I need.

Someday I will paint.
Someday I will prepare marvelous, detailed, thought-provoking lessons.

But right now, I will play catch.  I will comb hair and give hugs.  I will tell Jesus stories and whisper prayers.  I will step on spilled grapes and find rotten milk spills. I will have interrupted kisses and short date nights.

And I will love each and every experience of this crazy little life of mine.