Ticking Clocks

I like clocks. I have a lot of them. All kinds. And many of them make noise of one sort or another. They chime. They bong. They play music. They chirp. And they tick.

When I am here alone, when the house is quiet, the ticking can be very, very loud. It marks and measures time's passage.

Steadily. 

Rhythmically. 

Incessantly.

And sometimes I just want them to stop.

This is new for me. I have always liked the sound of the ticking. It has always been soothing. But in the last few days, it has become an irritation. A reminder. Rather than "tick-tock-tick-tock" the rhythm seems to shout "check-the date-check-the date".

Tomorrow is a significant day for me for a couple reasons. It promises to be difficult. The days leading up to it have been. But, the date will pass. It will. And the clocks will resume their "tick-tock" song.

 For everything there is a season,
    a time for every activity under heaven.
 A time to be born and a time to die.
    A time to plant and a time to harvest.
 A time to kill and a time to heal.
    A time to tear down and a time to build up.
 A time to cry and a time to laugh.
    A time to grieve and a time to dance.
 A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
    A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
 A time to search and a time to quit searching.
    A time to keep and a time to throw away.
 A time to tear and a time to mend.
    A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
 A time to love and a time to hate.
    A time for war and a time for peace.

                                                                    ~~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NLT ~~