She sent me a compass so I could find my way. Attached was an hourglass, a small one at that, time running quickly and irrevocably away.
Time to come home.
One-hundred miles I hiked solo this just completed summer. Three times I got lost. Early mornings, awake before the sun crested the mountain, I sat in the stillness and journaled my thoughts.
But time was slipping away.
I was beyond tired. I was no longer interested in food, water had run out and though available in nearby streams to be filtered to safely drink, I was close enough to finishing that I didn’t bother.
After all, to stop would require starting again, reshouldering my way-too-heavy pack, willing my body forward.
Just keep going.
Time was of the essence.
So is life, and so is love.
Fourth century theologian and historian St. Jerome wrote, “Procul, et de ultimis finibus pretium ejus.”
The translation of St. Jerome’s observation of the woman described in the last chapter of the Book of Proverbs, reads “You may go to the ends of the earth to find her equal in value.”
I didn’t have to go that far. Good thing too. I would have gotten lost.
Wrote one commentator of the Proverbs 31 woman, ““It is very remarkable to meet with such a delineation of woman. To paint such a portrait needed inspiration of some sort. Such a one is hard to find.”
I didn’t find her.
She found me.
And she sent me a compass so I could find my way with an attached hourglass, a small one at that, time running quickly and irrevocably away.
Time to come home.
Nicely written! Also a reminder that we always carry a bit of home with us. The strength of the compass and perception of what to do with the remaining time in the hourglass is influenced by the memory of home.