You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. – James 4:14 (MSG)
If Congress gets its act together and stops quibbling this year, they might finally pass some really important, lifesaving legislation: ending our practice of changing the clocks twice a year. We could finally stop springing forward; next Sunday could be the last time we lose an hour, forever.
Proponents of the end of clock-switching make a compelling case. Heart attacks and car accidents tick up in the days following the time change every spring and fall. If clergy were a more powerful lobby, we would have ended the practice decades ago. Preachers, holla if you wake up seventeen times on spring-forward night, certain you are going to be late for worship!
The chief lobby against the legislation is the National Association of Convenience Stores, who say children shouldn’t be walking to school in the dark (their passion has nothing to do with their profit margins, right?).
Whatever our legislators decide, one thing is clear: we can’t buy time. There’s an apocryphal story about the billionaire Richard Branson: that every so often he has his private jet fly westward to get more hours into his workday. But even a billionaire can’t outrun the sun, or the number of days and hours allotted to him. He has the same number of hours as any of us.
God, whether it’s sunrise or sunset, make me grateful for the only time I have: this very moment. Amen.
