In previous blogs, I have used a parable to describe life as heading for the mountaintop with a personal Guide rather than just having a map to read and follow. Following God’s will invokes a metaphor of gardening with freedom within broad boundaries rather than joining dots from one blank page to the next. In this blog on life and time, my thoughts have been inspired and modified from Beyond Fate written by Margaret Visser.

Why use metaphors? In his book Why Poetry, Matthew Zapruder says that metaphor is everywhere in language—by its nature language is inherently metaphorical. Similarly, Visser agrees that vivid and concrete metaphors arouse attention to make connections, even though they can also at times deceive us. 

One example is the common metaphor describing life as a journey walking on a road. Making choices at crossroads results in choosing one path over another. Over time, this forms an image of a tree where all branches, followed or not, still remain as theoretical possibilities. Visser feels this is misleading. It further entices us to wistfully wonder the what-if or if-only’s of where another branch would have led us instead of our current existence.

 

A related deceitful spatial metaphor of time is a line, solid to indicate the past, with an X to mark the present, followed by dots to indicate an unknown and spotty future. Although the past cannot be altered, the line can be circular. We may experience unwanted vicious cycles of déjà vu, “why am I doing this again? Haven’t I learned to change?” 

Yet, time is not an independent abstract entity separate from our lives but an integral part of it. We can’t stand still apart from time looking at it as if we are trucks travelling at varying speeds on a road of time. The medium (time as a river) is the message (our lives as flowing water). Being mindful of the context of each present moment is to appreciate that my lifetime of life time is all potential kairos (Gk. time with significance) from God, not chronos (Gk. measured time) that meaninglessly passes by. Whether we are in a turbulent rapid or lazily winding downstream, we sense the presence of the living water of God flowing with us and within us.

Instead of travelling down a line or in a circle, another life-time metaphor is building a house. The foundation allows a myriad of imaginative and creative structures, just as each of our lives is unique. Instead of walking on predetermined roads, we are framing our own houses. The purpose of the house is not to impress. It will inevitably reveal and reflect our outward social identity—whether that is our chromosomes (gender), class, creed, colour, country, or culture (see The Lies That Bind by Kwame Anthony Appiah.) The main goal, however, is to make space to house our interior lives of values and passions, to spend time being and doing as children of God. 

Our future in time is unknown. It can change our house appearance but won't stop the project. As we live on, we renovate, replacing a wall to be a door, or simply repainting the house. Our past does not irrevocably define our future. We can change and be changed, even move to a different foundation if necessary to start over again. 

In Scriptures, from Genesis to Jesus, we see recurring cycles of creation—sin—judgement—grace—re-creation. As we go around inspecting our house, we may come to an area needing repair again, but even if we feel the same old-same old, we are not back at the same spot in a vicious cycle. Our perspective has changed because of past experiences, as our spirituality matures in a spiral. 

 

We are created to be co-creators in time. Are you making time to build your house on the river?