The other day I found my first wrinkle. I mentioned this to a few people, and there was mostly laughter … after all, I’m only 24. Wrinkles? Really? They are a thing of the future.
But to be honest … I had a moment of knowing that, yes, I am dying.
We all are.
We are working our way to the end, to our final moment, and yet we’re always trying to fight against it.
We fight against the clock and yet it’s the only thing out of our control. We paste creams on our faces, we inject chemicals into our bodies, we stitch up loose skin as if those things will win us the battle against time.
We preach salvation as if the point is heaven and not hell, yet the point is Jesus Christ. And that’s it. Not the absence of eternity in hell – but the One who saves us from it.
Why we are afraid of wrinkles I don’t know. Why I am afraid of the clock striking midnight, a day now written into history, I don’t know. Why I am always fighting to redeem the time – to use it wisely – instead of just being, I don’t know.
I think in some ways, we’ve built an idol out of time. We crave more of it. We fear the passing of it by. We give it a place in our lives so that we are constantly battling it, constantly complaining about it, constantly checking our watches and doing our best to manipulate it so that we can control it, not the other way around.
It’s humanity’s blessing and curse, you know. Time. We will always spend our lives chasing more of it. As if, somehow, time alone will save us from the unknown. But this life is a vapour. It’s a mist. It’s a snowstorm crept up on a cold winter’s night, it’s a rainstorm that catches the African heat by surprise. We will spend our lives fighting the time, fighting our wrinkles, fighting the end but maybe what’s beautiful is when we redeem the time. redeem the wrinkles. redeem the end.
And isn’t that what Jesus came to do? He came to show us that our beauty is our heart, not our face. He showed us that He alone broke all laws of time – rising from the dead. The End is no longer.
As I stretch my skin taught to hide that wrinkle, I plead with my reflection to love this time, this vapour, this mist. However long it might be. To give it it’s rightful place in my life. I don’t want to live in my past, or spend my time fighting against the future, but to be a redeemer. To redeem the broken curse of time and allow it to be something beautiful.