As we head into the new year and people are thinking about resolutions, we thought it would be appropriate to share a chapter from Ken Boa’s book, Recalibrate Your Life. If you are interested in learning more about recalibrating with practical exercises to help you, the book is available from our bookstore.
From the whole team at Reflections Ministries, we wish you and your families a blessed New Year.
Stewarding Time
Teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.
(Psalm 90:12)
When I (Ken) was asked to preach in a historic church in Connecticut, it was like stepping back in time. The church was founded in the late 1700s; its interior bore the marks of New England Puritan influence throughout. To access the pulpit, the speaker climbed a flight of stairs that put him some fifteen feet above the congregation—a position of power and influence, consistent with the minister’s role in that day. Suspended over the ornate pulpit was a “sacred canopy”—literally, an ornate wooden canopy that served to amplify the speaker’s voice in the days before microphones and speakers.
When it was time for me to preach, I climbed the narrow stairs to the pulpit, a massive three-sided affair. There was a lectern in front for both Bible and notes along with a narrow, flat shelf that ran around both sides of the pulpit. I noticed two objects, one on each corner of the flat shelf. On the right of the lectern was a tall candle in an antique holder, and on the left was an antique hourglass—the sand had accumulated in the bottom well of the glass.
Suddenly it hit me—the purpose of the candle and the hourglass. And I wondered if the church members, who had stared up at the pulpit and those objects hundreds of time, had any idea what they were for. That day I decided if I was ever invited to preach again at that church, I knew what my Scripture text and message would be.
An hourglass and a candle, at least in Puritan New England, were classic illustrations of the Latin phrase memento mori, which means, “Remember you’re going to die.” They were reminders that death is the inevitable conclusion to life—visual representations of the brief, transitory nature of this passing world that we discussed earlier. For the nonspiritual, memento mori might have reminded a person to “eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die.” But for the follower of Jesus, memento mori had deeper implications: judgment is coming; redeem the time; walk circumspectly. Just as a candle burns down and its flame sputters out, and the sand runs through the hourglass, so our earthly life will come to an end—at a time known only to God.
That candle and hourglass were sobering reminders, but they were realistic and biblical ones as well.
As Providence would have it, I was invited again to speak in that same church. And I came prepared with a message on Moses’s words in Psalm 90:12: “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” I climbed the stairs and entered the pulpit and, without a word to the congregation, lit the candle with the matches I had brought. Then, I reached over and inverted the hourglass so the sand began draining into the bottom well. I am fairly sure this was the first time that candle and hourglass had ever been employed by a contemporary preacher.
When I arrived at my exposition of verse 12, I explained memento mori to the congregation—and the purpose of the two objects on either side of the lectern. What I was explaining was the importance of the stewardship of time—the essence of which is captured in the words, “Teach us to number our days.” I explained how important it is to realize that “our” time is not actually ours but God’s, and how the wise way of investing the days God gives us is by embracing the “precious present” (since, after all, we are not guaranteed the future).
At the end of the sermon, I leaned over and blew out the candle. Then I took the hourglass and, instead of flipping it over, I laid it on its side and said to the congregation, “Time out.” As I descended the stairs, the congregation broke out in applause. Perhaps it was, in part, a “thank you for explaining why there are a candle and hourglass on the pulpit!” But hopefully it was, in larger part, because they grasped the truth—as sobering as it was—that I was trying to communicate: our time is short, no amount of it is guaranteed, and it is not ultimately ours; therefore, don’t squander it.
Making the Most of Time
A less moribund way to think of the stewardship of time is found in Paul’s words in Ephesians 5:15–16 (NASB95): “Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil.” We hear a lot about time management. But the standard joke among seminar speakers is, “Nobody manages time!” And it’s true. Time marches on; it cannot be stopped or started; it cannot be added to or subtracted from. No one can truly manage time. But we can steward the time we are given—making the most of it, as Paul says, seeing it as a gift from God.
To reiterate from earlier, not one of us knows how long our lives will be. Thus, it is wise for us never to presume upon the future. We make a serious mistake if, while young or even in our middle years, we assume our candle is really long and our hourglass really large still. This error usually shows up in the way we spend our days—devoting far more time on temporal activities (that have little eternal consequence) than we would if we knew we only had five more months (or even five years) to live. Some of us are more prone to procrastinate or get distracted, while others of us are prone to overwork or become overcommitted. Both ends of the spectrum display shortcomings in the area of stewardship.
The reality is that each of us has exactly the amount of time God has allocated for us to accomplish his purpose for us on earth (Psalm 139:16). Thus, we should neither fret nor presumptuously dawdle when thinking about the length of our lives. Jesus lived until his early thirties and accomplished all that he was called to do; Moses lived until 120, and he completed the mission God gave him as well. Knowing that God gives each of us the time we need—not one hour more or less—naturally shifts our focus from seeing time in terms of numbers (days and years) to seeing time in terms of opportunities (the content we fill those days and years with).
Stewarding Opportunities
There is considerable agreement that the eighteenth-century writer Samuel Johnson was the most widely accomplished man of letters in English history. His friend and biographer, James Boswell, wrote The Life of Samuel Johnson (1791), considered to be the finest biography in the English language. Boswell was the oldest son of a strict, aloof Scottish judge. As a child, the younger Boswell relished the rare attention shown to him by his father. A story is often told of James, who, as an adult, spoke about a special day his father took him fishing, remembering what they talked about and what he learned. It was a day he never forgot, marking him for the rest of his life. However, when Judge Boswell died, and his own journals and papers were being organized, someone checked his diary to see what he recorded on that day of fishing that had meant so much to his young son. The diary entry for that date contained one line: “Gone fishing with my son; a day wasted.”
That sad account illustrates two different concepts of time, each of which shows up in the Bible. One perspective is based on the Greek word chronos, from which we get the words chronology and chronograph. This refers to “clock time”—that is, the strict measurement of the passage of time. Thus far in this chapter, we have been speaking primarily of chronos. The other perspective flows from the word kairos, which is best translated as “opportunity.” In Scripture, for example, Luke 1:57 refers to “the time” when Elizabeth gave birth to John the Baptist (the day she delivered the baby); this is chronos. Kairos, on the other hand, is found in Galatians 6:10: “So then, as we have opportunity [kairos], let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.”
Stewards of time are conscious of both chronos and kairos, but they only control kairos (by “control,” we mean having the ability to respond freely, by God’s grace). We can’t control the passage of time, but we can seize every opportunity to do that which the Owner of time desires. James Boswell’s father was focused only on chronos, defining a productive day by worldly standards; he totally missed the importance of kairos, the opportunity to be with his son. James, on the other hand, probably lost track of chronos as he reveled in the kairos of being with his father.
Kairos moments cannot be measured or planned. They can occur over a short period (in a brief encounter at a store or on the street, for example) or as a season in our lives (for example, a period of time when you’re placed under a particular boss with whom God is clearly using you to share and model the gospel). Kairos opportunities are events that God orchestrates, often sovereignly putting you together with a certain person in the right place at the right time (chronos). We probably receive several of these kinds of opportunities per day, but many of us steamroll past them due to busyness, or we’re blind to them because we are not tuned in to the priorities and heart of God. Hence why spiritual disciplines such as staying in the Word and in prayer on a regular basis are so important.
Examples to Follow, from Jesus to Today
Jesus himself was known to stop everything he was doing to focus on a single person, even on what may have been viewed as a ministry-filled, busy day. Whether it was a sick or disabled person crying out for healing, or a spiritually thirsty woman drawing water from a well, you we can be sure that Jesus never once missed a kairos opportunity. He who holds the galaxies together was always on the lookout for how his Father wanted to use him at any moment. He would halt his activities and reduce his whole world to just one person in need. That person became his agenda.
As you can see, investing our time wisely has much to do with the priority God places on people and relationships. (Indeed, all areas of biblical stewardship are interconnected in some way.) When I (Jenny) was reading a couple of Christian parenting books around the time my first child was born, I was struck by the authors’ repeated emphasis on seizing opportunities to love, affirm, talk to, and listen to our children while they are still very young. This strategic window of time, when kids are not yet influenced as much by peers and when parents are often the primary role models, is a uniquely formative period when we can lay a lasting foundation of trust and of unconditional, grace-based (rather than performance-based) love and security in their lives. If a parent misses these moments because of being too busy or exhausted, the consequences later can be dire. (This lesson can apply to other relationships besides parenting, for certain people may only be in our lives for a short season before we each move on. We should never defer to the future what we can and should do now—in case there is no “later.”)
Barry, a grandfather in his early seventies, offers a contrasting example to James Boswell’s father. A practicing lawyer for nearly five decades, Barry gradually transitioned into retirement. In 2020, about three years into full retirement, he wrote, “I am finding that it is satisfying to work and live at a slower pace and to disengage from finding meaning in business-level productivity; now I am gaining more appreciation and satisfaction in doing the routine affairs of life, which in the past were great interruptions and heavy burdens.” Still, Barry—who spent years in a profession where “time is money,” with every minute accounted for and billed to the client—has to intentionally remind himself of God’s view on how he spends his time:
This comes to mind when I have been playing hide-and-seek for fifteen minutes with our granddaughter, and it is about to drive me crazy, but she wants to keep at it; I stop and think, so what’s the most important way for me to spend the next few minutes? Keep doing this or get frustrated that it’s not “productive”?
Wisely investing our time means we will sometimes spend time doing things, from fishing to hide-and-seek, that actually seem small and insignificant, like a “waste.” Stewarding time also means sacrifice (of whatever we could be doing instead). One thing is sure, though: When we see “our” time as God’s and treat it accordingly, we will fill our days with those things that he wants us doing—prioritizing what he prioritizes. And that is a course of action that ends in one day hearing those blessed words, “Well done.”
Recalibrating
As stewards of the time God gives us, we are responsible for the 24 hours in a day, 168 hours in a week, 8,760 hours in a (non-leap) year . . . and so on throughout our life. How we invest these hours will be subject to review at the Judgment Seat of Christ in terms of faithfulness, the chief trait of a steward (1 Corinthians 3:10–15; 4:2). But we will also answer for the opportunities—the kairos moments in life—where we find ourselves faced with a choice: How do I honor God, the Owner of time and author of history, in this moment?
God guides and speaks to us, showing us his desires. However, he does not micromanage us. He sets our agenda and provides us our resources, but then he gives us much leeway in our stewardship role (within the boundaries of his standards). There will be an accounting, however, in which we’ll be asked, How have you used the time he gave you?
The longer we live, the shorter our candle gets, and the less sand is left at the top of our hourglass. None of us knows how much time—chronos or kairos—we have left. Neither can we ever gain back the times now in the past. Thus, we do well to daily pray, “Teach us to number our days,” and to ask God for an openness to how he wants to fill our calendar.
Prayer: Father, teach me to live with two days in my calendar: today and that Day. May I be open to your promptings, not insisting on my own agenda but following your lead in how I “spend” the time you have given me. May I define a productive day by your standards rather than by the world’s metrics.
