Time

The true secret of happiness is to live in the NOW–not to be forever regretting the past, or anticipating the future–but to get the most you can out of this very instant.

Yesterday is a memory, tomorrow is a mystery and today is a gift, which is why it is called the present.     — Anonymous

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Our continual mistake is that we do not concentrate upon the present day, the actual hour, of our life: we live in the past or in the future; we are continually expecting the coming of some special moment when our life will unfold itself in its full significance. And we do not notice that life is flowing like water through our fingers.
— Father Alexander Elchaninov, Russian priest & philosopher (1881 – 1934)

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One day at a time; this is enough. Do not look back and grieve over the past for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering.
— Adam Lindsay Gordon, Australian poet, jockey, politician (1833 -1870)

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A new life begins for us with every second. Let us go forward joyously to meet it. We must press on, whether we will or not, and we shall walk better with our eyes before us than with them ever cast behind.
— Jerome K Jerome, author (1859 – 1926)

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Human existence is girt round with mystery: the narrow region of our experience is a small island in the midst of a boundless sea. To add to the mystery, the domain of our earthly existence is not only an island of infinite space, but also in infinite time. The past and the future are alike shrouded from us: we neither know the origin of anything which is, nor its final destination.
— John Stuart Mill, philosopher, political economist and MP (1806 – 1873)

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TODAY
To-morrow, Lord, is thine,

Lodged in thy sovereign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by thy command.

The present moment flies,
And bears our life away;
O make thy servants truly wise,
That they may live to-day.

Since on this winged hour
Eternity is hung,
Waken, by thine almighty power,
The aged and the young.

One thing demands our care;
O be it still pursued!
Lest, slighted once, the season fair
Should never be renewed.

To Jesus may we fly
Swift as the morning light,
Lest life’s young golden beams should die
In sudden, endless night.

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THE CLOCK CONTINUES TO TICK
The clock of life is wound but once

And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed.
To lose one’s health is more.
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That no man can restore

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For Katrina’s Sun Dial
Time is too slow for those who wait,

Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love, time is
Eternity.
— Henry Van Dyke, American author, academic, clergyman (1852 – 1933)

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Fair before us lies the way,
Time for work and time for play,
fill the measure while we may,
Up!—and On!

Life and Time will not delay,
Time is running fast away,
Life is Now—to-day, to-day!
Up!—and On!

Foes in plenty we shall meet;
Hearts courageous scorn defeat;
So we press, with eager feet,
Up!—and On!

Ever onward to the fight,
Ever upward to the Light,
Ever true to God and Right,
Up!—and On!

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IS LIFE WORTH LIVING?
Is life worth living?
It depends on your believing;—
If it ends with this short span,
Then is man no better than
the beasts that perish,
But a Loftier Hope we cherish.
“Life out of Death” is written wide
Across Life’s page on every side.
we cannot think as ended, our dear dead who died.

What room is left us then for doubt or fear?
Love laughs at thought of ending—there, or here.
God would lack meaning if this world were all,
And this short life but one long funeral.

God is! Christ loves! Christ lives!
And by His Own Returning gives
Sure pledge of Immortality.
The first-fruits–He; and we–
The harvest of His victory.
The life beyond shall this life far transcend,
And Death is the Beginning–not the End!
–John Oxenham

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We are speeding toward the last hour of our earthly residence. When I see the sunset I say: “one day less to live.” When I bury a friend, I say, “Another earthy attraction gone forever.” What nimble feet the years have! From decade to decade, they go at a bound. There is a place for us, whether marked or not, where you and I will sleep the last sleep. And the men are now living who will, with solemn tread, carry us to our resting place. Aye, it is known in Heaven whether our departure will be a coronation or a banishment.
— Talmage

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I know not when, I know not where
My time will come to pass away.
And so I live by faith and prayer
As if I knew it were today.
For “Watch,” the Scriptures say to me,
Thy Lord will come in grace and power—
Be ready when He calls for thee,
Thou knowest not the day nor hour.

Why should I be appalled at death?
By God’s decree man die to live—
Eternity hangs on a breath,
Until the shadows from this earth are cast;
Until He gather in His sheaves at last;
Until the twilight gloom is over—past—
Good-night!

Only ‘good-night,’ beloved, not “farewell,”
A little while and all His saints shall dwell
In hallowed union, indivisible, Good-night!
Until we meet again before His throne,
Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own,
Until we know, even as we are known;—
Good-night!  .

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WHAT IS ETERNITY?
“Mommie, what does eternity mean?”
What can I do or say;
How to explain to a finite mind
The length of endless day?

Picture, my darling, a mound of sand
A mile long, high, and wide;
Each year  bird takes a gain of dust
From out of the mountain’s side.

Millions of years will pass away ere
The bird’s work is all done;
Even with all these millions of years
Eternity’s just begun.

Eternity has no hours–no days;
Time, then, will cease to be;
We’ll be at home in our Father’s
House–
Loved, everlastingly.
–Eleanor Burrell

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The Clock Of Life Is Wound But Once
The clock of life is wound but once

And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed
To lose one’s health is more,
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That no man can restore.

The present is our own,
So live love, toil with a will
Place no faith in “tomorrow,”
For the clock may then be still.
— Robert H Smith

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We are speeding toward the last hour of our earthly residence. When I see the sunset I say: “One day less to live.” When I bury a friend, I say, “Another earthly attraction gone forever.” What nimble feet the years have! From decade to decade, they go at a bound. There is a place for us, whether marked or not, where you and I will sleep the last sleep, and the men are now living who will, with solemn tread, carry us to our resting place. Aye, it is known in Heaven whether our departure will be a coronation or a banishment.
–Talmage

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Time will ease the hurt
The sadness of the present days

Is locked and set in time,
And moving to the future
Is a slow and painful climb.

But all the feelings that are now
So vivid and so real
Can’t hold their fresh intensity
As time begins to heal.

No wound so deep will ever go
Entirely away;
Yet every hurt becomes
A little less from day to day.

Nothing else can erase the painful
Imprints on your mind;
But there are softer memories
That time will let you find.

Though your heart won’t let the sadness
Simply slide away,
The echoes will diminish
Even though the memories stay.
— Bruce Wilmer