time

Christmas week. I love it!

But there's a lot on and it's an early start. I've a few things to do before heading off to today's first-thing-in-the-morning Royal High School assembly.

They're having 'Nation' assemblies rather than year-group assemblies at Christmas this year. Everyone in the school is allocated to one of four 'Nations' (the Picts, the Scots, the Britons and the Angles): doing it this way means there are four assemblies instead of the usual five (I get Wednesday 'off' - which is just as well since there's a Primary School Christmas service that morning first thing, and I've yet to learn the skill of being in more than one place at a time).

I speak on a different theme to each of the four assemblies - though they're all tied in to Christmas (albeit in a discreet sort of way - they're 'whole school' assemblies, after all, intended to be inclusive). Today I speak about time.

The shepherds gave their time - hours, certainly, once they'd left their sheep and walked up the hill to Bethlehem, seen the young couple and their new born baby and shared with them the equivalent of the regulatory 'cup of tea' (hospitality counted for much in those days).

The men from the east gave their time - in their case certainly weeks and more probably months. They took the time to travel; and they gave, as well as their costly gifts - they gave perhaps as much as a year of their lives in a way that would have been a huge and timely encouragement to Joseph and Mary.

Years back now, when I was just starting on the long adventure of fatherhood, I heard a statistic which shocked me to the core. The average amount of (quality, 'dedicated') time a father gives to his children every day.

10 seconds.

There are reasons why that is the case - because most fathers would be shocked at the thought that that might be all that they gave to their child each day.

They're busy men. They're tired probably (they work quite hard, after all - and probably stay up way too late at night). They're maybe distracted and worried (they have responsible jobs doubtless, and maybe on the personal front their lives have become just a little complicated too).

And yes, they're probably selfish and lazy as well.

10 seconds can end up being a good day.

I talk about the gift of time to the Britons today. It's a salutary lesson for all of us at this time. Christmas sees us all getting busy and tired and distracted and worried: and we all can be selfish and lazy as well.

It sets the note for the day. Time. Giving people time.

I'm out seeing folk in the morning. And then again in the afternoon. Along at one of the hospitals. I give the man's wife a lift back home. It would be a couple of buses for her otherwise - and not at a good time of day.

It's slow going back, the traffic is rush-hour-compounded-by-snow sort of speed. It takes some time. But then, it's time I'm glad to give. And time that she in her turn is glad to be given. It makes a little difference to her, I think, at a difficult time for them all.

And I'm out seeing someone at night as well. A person I've come to know just a bit in the wake of two bereavements. It's been hard and sore, the path of grief this person has had to walk.

But I've had the sense since I first was involved that the Lord is at work through the darkness of sorrow and grief, and that somehow, in God's kind providence, these griefs will prove to be the entrance to a whole new work of grace within this person's life.

It'll take time, I don't doubt. And part of the time that's involved is the time that I'm willing to give.

It's another long day by its close. And I'm left to wonder again where all the time went!

The answer, I suppose, is simple. It was given away.

More often than not, that gift of time is actually far more valuable than all of the gold, myrrh and frankincense which the men from the east carefully brought.