A Thousand Years in Your sight are but as yesterday when spent, nothing more to You than a watch in the night. (Psalm 90:4,¹wcv&²)

¶ Looking back through eighty years of humanity here on earth, still, decked out by the Grace of God in the finest of fettle age has to offer, it seems as though as far as Seasons go, I have journeyed through three of them, and into my fourth in the twinkling of an eye.

Where did they go?

The adventures, plans, and prosperity that I once cherished so, now resemble nothing more than a summer morning meadow taken down at noon by the reaper’s scythe, and before nightfall, bundled for the barn, however, some of it, I do believe, was worth the sowing.

Nonetheless, what is now “Meaningful” I wish I had known back in the Spring of My Years.

¶ Now that I am in the Winter of My Years, life seems to have been, at times, no more than four fleeting seasons; some dark and stormy, some bright and sunny!  Never have the lives of others been more dear to me! Never has the Spirit of Revelation meant more to me! And never has it ever been more clear to my cognizance that we all must keep that divine appointment to “Return to the dust from which we came”. (Genesis 3:19, Psalm 90:3)

¶ I shudder to think of where I might be without the Divine Intervention of the Hand of God in my life, for, until I was nearly forty years of age I was, in all my ways, a Rebel and a Rounder!  GODLESS!

 Now in these deep and weighty things

Where Life, Death, Choice, and Chance,

Like thoughts aflight they skirt the eye,

Out around the gates they dance.

 

Where choices chosen, choose in turn,

How your road does rise and fall.

The road ahead, she’s all laid out;

Don’t we reap just what we sow!?!

 

How short it was and folly filled,

All my friends had fled.

What was that place I wakened in

To face the Living Dead?      {Weighty Things / Will Callery / ©william & Cynthia Pub. ©2012 BMI}

5 (In the natural) we are, indeed, carried away as in a flood (not only the seemingly slow flow of passing time which does, indeed, All In Time, prove to be deceivingly swift, but, in the natural, we are also swept away by an even greater Niagara; deluges of vanity, covetousness, lust, pride, doctrines of men, spiritisms, religious pride, and feigned spirituality, to name a few. (In the natural) We are as but ships passing in the night; In the morning we flourish, at noon we thrive, and by nightfall comes-a-cropper, the grim reaper. (Psalm 90:5, ¹wcv&²)

6 In the Morning we flourish and grow, by evening we are cut down, and by nightfall, we are bundled for the barn.  (Psalm 90:6, ¹wcv&²)

9 (Without You) Our days pass away neath the many innumerable, enchanting, and diverse shades of deception cast upon the earth by the refracting of the majestic Light of Truth through the bewitching jewels in the glimmering breastplate of the Black Swan who soars high above the Circle of the Earth.  in the end, Void of the Spirit of God and Blinded to the Light of the Truth by the many enticing and mesmerizing shades and shadows of self-righteousness, completely overwhelmed by the accumulation of stature and stuff, instead of “Dancing the Dance Of All Dances” in that City Not Made By The Hands Of Man, we are, by fits and starts of stormy reckoning, soon carried away on the winds of Judgement. (Without You) we squander our years as tall-tales-told, as braggarts at the bar sailing away with Plato on the Ship of Fools!  (Psalm 90:9,¹wcv&²)

10 The days of our years are threescore and ten, and if by some vigorous constitution, they be fourscore they are for some, nothing more than years of labor and sorrow, for others, they may be years full of business, prosperity, and ease, no matter which, they are soon cut off and we either fly away or fall away.   (Psalm 90:10,¹wcv&²)

The Days of our years are threescore and ten,                         

Like a slow movin’ freight they’re soon round the bend

Off in the distance that lone whistle lows,

Like a ghost in the night, tell me,

Where do they go?

 

In the days of my youth in my Grandfather’s house

There was whistling and singing and a Misty Blue Cloud

That fell all around us from heaven, I know,

But off in the night

That lonesome whistle did low.

 

The wind and the whistle, they must be next of kin,

We wait on the Train, then we’re Gone With the Wind.

We all come and go on that slow movin’ freight.

What you do while you’re here,

Do before it’s too late,

Before that lone whistle lows.

 

Way out yonder in the dark of the night

That slow movin’ freight, she ain’t burning daylight.

No! She’s a fast movin’ flyer rounding the bend,

Like the Days of Our Youth,

She’s Gone With the Wind.

 

Like a ghost in the night, she comes and she goes

Into the Beyond where that Lone Whistles lows.

We’ve all got a ticket to ride on that Train

To that Last Whistle Stop where we meet face to face,

Where we meet Him face to face.

 

The wind and the whistle, they must be next of kin,

We wait on the Train, then we’re Gone With the Wind.

We all come and go on that slow movin’ freight.

What you do while you’re here,

Do before it’s too late,

Before that lone whistle lows.    

 

{Ghost Train ©Will Callery / William & Cynthia Pub. ©2006, BMI, Based on Ps.90:10}

And so, just what is “IT” we are to “DO” before it’s too late?

¶ It is no easy task to get a handle on that long lost, yet excellent art of “Numbering Our Days”, so as not to be deceived by our own calculations concerning TIME, as did “A certain wealthy fella whose industry brought forth wealth unimaginable and whose ground brought forth an astounding abundance of crops.” “My, my”, says he, “What in the world shall I do?” “Why I will tear down my barns, my granaries, and my storehouses and build greater ones in which to store my grain, and my goods, and I will build an impenetrable vault in which to store my silver, and my gold. I will then say to my soul, ‘Oh my Soul, eat, drink, and be merry, for you are about to live a life of pleasure and ease. You are set for life’.”  But that night God said to the man, “YOU FOOL, THIS IS THE NIGHT YOUR SOUL IS TO BE REQUIRED OF YOU.” (Luke 12:20, ¹wcv&²)

12 Teach us, O Lord, to “Number Our Days” that we may fill our hearts and rule our minds with, (not the crafty, weathercock wisdom of this world, not the oh-so-humble, vainglorious wisdom of philosophers, nor the feigned, gilded wisdom of religion void of the Spirit, promoted by Prancing Peacocks, Hot Air Balloons, and Notorious Beggars, and certainly not the counterfeit of every cutie-pie bumper-sticker-cliche that crosses our minds, all of which of all of the above, far, far too many mis-take for the “Voice of God”), NO!… Teach us, Oh Lord, to “Number Our Days” that we might fill our hearts and rule our minds with the Wisdom that comes from above, the Wisdom of God, which only comes by “Waiting Upon the Lord” for the Illumination of the Revelatory Power of the Holy Spirit; “For where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is FREEDOM.” (2 Corinthians 3:17) + (Isaiah 40:31, James 3:17, Proverbs 2:1-7, 1 Corinthians 3:19)

SUMMARY

¶ Wherever we end up in eternity, whatever our destination might be, like genders, there are only two, we will look back and realize that, compared to the humanity we just stepped out of and the eternity that we just stepped into, we will, All In Time, realize, that we were only here on earth but for an hour or two…

…which brings to my memory something that the Lord said to me years ago, “Can you not even spend an hour or two² with ME…?”  (Matthew 26:40-45, ¹wcv&²)

“Teach us, O Lord, to Number Our Days, for a Thousand Years in Your sight are but as yesterday when spent, when past, nothing more than a watch in the night.” (v.4,¹wcv&²)

ALL IN TIME by Will, written by Annah Callery & Will Callery, ©William & Cynthia Pub. ©2012, BMI

 

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