The Broken Clock

While reading Faulkner, one image really stood out to me- Quinton’s pocket-watch, which he ripped the hands off of, yet continues to carry around with him. All throughout his chapter he carries the broken watch with him. It sits in his pocket continuing to do what it was made to do, namely, to tell time- although without its hands it’s virtually worthless. The watch is still an intricate, functioning piece of equipment; it’s just unable to display the results of its futility.

A good friend of mine turned me on to Lifehouse’s new song “Storm” a couple of weeks ago. It’s a wonderful song, and it’s something I really could have related well to six months or even a year ago; but right now I feel like their song “Broken” is a much better theme for the place I’m at in life. Have you ever read Ecclesiastes? These song lyrics really stand out to me:

The broken clock is a comfort,
It helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time

This past year has been one of the toughest of my life. My Dad passed away, and some other things happened that were really hard. The Lord was there for me, and really helped me through it all. Now the sun has come out again, and there are some very promising things on the horizon, yet I feel like I’m missing something. These are the times when it seems to me it’s most important to remain broken. Life is full of meaninglessness- especially here in this post-postmodern world. It’s so easy to lose focus, to fall into meaningless monotony, and “wish time away.” (As another friend so eloquently put it) The Lifehouse song goes on:

In the pain there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holding on,
I'm barely holding on to you

Lord, help me to find meaning in your name, though everything else may pass away. While life keeps ticking on, invisible, our time goes by, wasted. Give me purpose in you.

The Antelope Valley is a very diverse place. To the East is high desert, to the South are the San Gabriel mountains, usually covered in snow, to the West are rolling grasslands, and to the North are dry lakes. I took my new camera and my guitar and headed west this afternoon hoping to catch the sunset, and maybe a bit of worship. There is just something about rolling grassland that evokes a sense of timelessness. I found a nice secluded spot up on a little hill and parked my truck there and watched the sun go down. I managed to get a few decent pictures, and revel in the knowledge that those moments were created just for me.