Living beyond the clock
At this time of year, I find myself asking, “Where has the time gone?” The months seem to fly past, swept along by school terms, holidays, and endless to-do lists. It’s easy to feel as though we’re racing the clock, constantly trying to catch up.
But here’s a thought worth taking a second to pause for: a clock doesn’t know the time.
It’s a simple phrase, but it invites reflection. A clock can measure time precisely, but it doesn’t understand it. It doesn’t know the joy of a conversation with a friend, the beauty of a summer sunset, or the peace of a quiet moment. Those are the things that give time its meaning. We’re the ones who give time its value, by how we choose to spend it.
From a Christian perspective, this idea opens up something even deeper. In Psalm 90:4, we read, “A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by.” God is not bound by hours or calendars. His view of time is expansive, eternal. While we often live in a rush, God sees the whole picture – beginning, middle, and end – all at once.
That can bring comfort. If we feel hurried or behind, perhaps it’s not the schedule that matters most, but how present we are in the moment. Jesus said, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34). It’s a call to live more fully in today – not to ignore responsibilities, but to find peace in trusting that we don’t need to hold everything together on our own.
In our fast-paced world, slowing down is countercultural. Yet it’s often in stillness that we hear what really matters. Whether through quiet prayer, a mindful walk, a conversation with someone we care about, or simply putting the phone away, we can begin to reconnect – with ourselves, with others, and with God.
When we slow down, we begin to notice the small things we often overlook – the kindness of a neighbour, the song of a bird, the way light falls through the trees. Time becomes less about pressure and more about presence.
It is so easy to measure success by how much we get done. But what if success was about how present we are, how deeply we listen, and how fully we love?
So as the year marches on, perhaps it’s time to pause. A clock doesn’t know the time. But we do – if we choose to stop, breathe, and be present to the life unfolding right in front of us.

The power of life and death
Have you ever noticed how easy it is to speak negatively? Whether it’s complaining about the weather, criticising a loved one, or doubting our own abilities, negative talk can slip into our conversations without much effort. While it may seem harmless, the impact of our words is far greater than we realise.
Negativity doesn’t need to be taught—it’s a natural tendency. Think of a child: no one teaches them to say “I can’t” or “That’s not fair,” but somehow, it’s often their default. And if we’re honest, many of us carry that same instinct into adulthood. It’s a kind of cultural habit—a "can’t-do" attitude that quietly limits what we believe is possible. The Bible recognises the power of speech and doesn’t shy away from the challenge of controlling it. One particularly passage that comes from the book of James points to the power of our words:
"The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark." (James 3:5). Words, like sparks, can cause enormous damage. A careless comment can hurt deeply. A repeated complaint can wear down morale. Even a well-meant criticism, if timed poorly, can do more harm than good.
There’s a story about Albert Einstein. One day, he wrote out a list of multiplication tables for his students. At the end, he made one deliberate mistake. His students laughed. He calmly responded, “Despite the fact that I got nine problems right, no one congratulated me. But when I got one wrong, everyone noticed. That’s how the world is.” Einstein’s point still rings true: society is quick to highlight errors and slow to celebrate effort. And often, we do the same with ourselves and others. This focus on the negative can keep us from stepping into new things, trying again, or encouraging those around us.
So, what’s the alternative? In Christian faith, we’re invited to a different way of speaking—a way shaped by hope, grace, and truth. Rather than tear down, we are called to build up. Rather than curse, to bless. Our words should reflect the life Jesus came to give: not just survival, but “life in abundance.”
As a follower of Jesus, as a human being, I know I don’t and can’t always get this right, but I don’t give up trying to follow that example. I imagine a community where people look for the good in each other, call out potential instead of problems, and use their words to bring peace instead of pain. That kind of transformation doesn’t come through sheer willpower—it comes from a change of heart.
And it starts with the words we choose today.
