Time, it passes slowly then it pauses.
I remember sitting a train headed for Broken Hill where I worked... it moved through miles and miles and red sandy desert,
past scruffy, little bushes and rusty, corrugated iron houses... seventeen hours of waiting brought you to that desert town...
I would look out the window, it seemed almost as if the scene played backwards, aren't they the same bushes and houses all those miles before?
"Hound dog day" had finally caught up with me.
Time can pass slowly for another reason.
There was the first time, that you noticed him... there was something different about him, something different about the way he moved, it was like everything was certain and right, every step was in beat with the One who made it all.
Love emanated from him and in his voice, there was kindness and understanding. He drew you in and you were overwhelmed. Every word was crafted with perfection, polished and shining like a jewel.
Moments paused and were filled. He imparted more than you knew and as you moved away, you felt less.
Looking back, it seems like there was an imprint, like a fire that chiselled deep inside.
Where did he come from... was it Heaven that he was made?
Time passes, we can feel locked into the instant, but that is not always such a bad thing.