It was one of those songs that the beat must be strictly kept, otherwise it would speed up and spin out of control. As we sang a song today at service, an early childhood memory came back to me. I’m playing the piano with my teacher by my side. She would wind up the metronome and set the pendulum at the correct tempo. I can still hear the tick-tick noise as the scaled metal wand swung from side to side. I had to learn to keep time and carry the beat throughout the musical piece. It was a discipline that I had to learn, through repeated practice and conscious awareness. Whenever I speed up or slow down, my teacher would promptly tap or make me start over again.
I feel as though I need to keep time, keep pace with God. Neither speeding up or slowing down, but matching my rhythm to his. My tendency is to race ahead, to get things done and over with, rather than simply walking at a measured pace and enjoying the view.
Unfortunately, the loudest sound I’m hearing now is the countdown clock. One week left for papers, two weeks left of classes. Then the end. Or the beginning. Time, for better or for worse, cannot be grasped and held. It keeps moving and we are carried along with it.
And so I struggle with a measured pace that’s unhurried and untarried. But is in keeping with the beat of divine love.