Well… we knew, Lord willing, we would eventually get here. The last evening in the year two thousand and ten AD…
Time – in its present form – we perceive as inexorable – inevitable … it ‘marches on.’ So we find ourselves in that 24 hour period of one of the 365 rotations the earth has made in the approximate period it takes for the earth to travel in its inexorable, inevitable circuit around the sun. So we label this the 365th day of the journey. And if we’re being persnickety, perhaps we’ll add ¼ of a day to that in our minds, and bring back the correct calendar date in 2012 when we will add in the 29th day of February to make things kosher – calling it ‘leap year’ – and continue our stumbling, imprecise making circles in the solar system as we believe we have for so long – well at least so long!
In my case, by the reckoning passed along to me by my parents and the birth certificate which I’m glad to release to anyone who *really and truly* wants to certify that I was born in Roanoke, Virginia USA on January 31, 1932 – in case they wish to run me for President in that year… I will not hide the document in a lock box in
Actually we mark time by ‘intervals.’ We rather arbitrarily have divided up a minute into sixty seconds, because we can make 60 of those intervals fit into an hour interval – when we have accomplished 24 of those intervals we say that’s another “day”… 364 “days” later we determine we are (almost) back around the circuit to the point where we started and we call that a year… And you can see how all that is accomplished. If you want more details I recommend the National Bureau of Standards which will gladly point you to their time signals being broadcast around the world that subdivide those intervals into smaller segment…aHHHHhhh! somebody stole my pencil! Just to keep me from explaining all this???
Oh well… another day another dollar… only now that the Fed’s printing presses are working overtime… the dollars keep shrinking… or didn’t you notice and… OK, Ok… ok… no more explaining.
We are at the end of the year. Marley can attest to that – I suppose Scrooge can too… although he gets pulled down off the shelf most Christmases… for at least a sample of the March of Time.
On a far more interesting and VALUABLE subject… I would point you to the last book of the Bible … the book entitled “The Revelation of St. John The Devine” This manuscript was written by the Apostle John on the Isle of Patmos in the
“The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God Gave unto him, to shew unto his servants things which must shortly come to pass; and he sent and signified it by his angel to his servant John: Who bare record of the word of God, and of the testimony of Jesus Christ, and of all the things that he saw. Blessed is he that readeth and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand.”
That went by quickly didn’t it? And your interest is stirred I suspect, more than just a little. And do you see the blessings that await the readers and hearers of God’s word – who keep ‘those things that are written therein’ – why? The time – the END OF TIME is at hand!
Well – those words are simple, and understandable… and we are blessed if we hear and obey them.
May the Lord, in HIS wisdom and power bring these things to your mind this very day.
Cordially, IN HIM
Barbara and Jack Buttram – Have a blessed New Year Celebration with the Lord!
Delayed audio link:
http://www.wmuu.com/blog/category/audio/just-a-minute/
“JUST A MINUTE”
DO BETTER NOW MY CHILD
Just a minute: - Kathleen M. Wheeler is a lecturer and author of
He came to my desk with a quivering lip, the lesson was done.
“Have you a new sheet for me, dear teacher? I’ve spoiled this one.”
I took his sheet, all soiled and blotted,
And gave him a new one all unspotted.
And into his tired heart I cried, “Do better now, my child.”
I went to the throne with a trembling heart, the day was done.
“Have you a new day for me, dear Master? I’ve spoiled this one.”
He took my day, all soiled and blotted,
And gave me a new one all unspotted.
And into my tired heart he cried,
“Do better now, my child.”
<>I’m Jack Buttram. (END)
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