Tick Tock

You know the story of Peter Pan? Not the numerous Disney versions, but the real one. Actually I got the real story read to me in Russian when I was a kid. The stories, the characters, seemed so tangible to me, so bigger then life. When you're little, you don't think about the meanings behind the events, just the events themselves. When young you know the stories only through your emotions, and then as you get older, suddenly something kicks in, and you start to see the stories in a different way. Take for example, Captain Hook. In the original story, he's a real piece of work. An all around Mr. bad guy, and I remember hating him for all the trouble he caused Peter Pan and his lost boys. But now I realize, he was just driven by his fear. What was his fear? Time. Of course time was in the form of a nasty crocodile that happened to have swallowed a clock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.
Everything he did was in anticipation of hearing his death draw near. You are probably wondering why I am reminiscing about a nursery story. Well because now I can relate to Captain Hook. I can understand his fear, how it can become an obsession. Tick-Tock. I feel like the past two months have flown by, and I am afraid of what each passing day is bringing closer. As parents, we pray that we won't have to see our children die. That is, when we even allow ourselves to think about that. Most of the time, we bury ourselves in the everyday things and try to stay in blissful ignorance of death. Until it comes by and bites our hand off. Then everything starts to sound like a clock. So what did Captain Hook do? Well he got a hook put on in the place of his hand for one, and then he started to destroy those around him who were not afraid of death.
But there is another story and another figure that I am thinking of, in comparison to Captain Hook. A person who, knowing full well the exact hour of his death, instead of sowing more death and destruction, proceeded to bring forth life and hope to all around him. To whom everyday was a chance to say yes instead of no, to bring love instead of hate. Even though time was marching on, even though he knew he would die totally alone, friendless, unloved and scorned, he lived and loved. His story, which we know as the gospels, is the example of how we should live our death march. Every miracle, every event was just bringing him closer to his Crucifixion. Tick-Tock indeed. Well what about us? Though we don't know the hour or the exact circumstance which will take our son away, we know that the clock is running. And for me, it's going way too fast! Every day, every minute we have the choice to either deny death and embrace fear, or to try on Christ's Cross and just stand firm in the midst of the tempest. I know there won't be a miracle preformed here, not the kind that we like to fantasize about anyway, but perhaps there is a chance for a different kind of miracle. One that is quiet and peaceful, calm in soul and spirit. A miracle, in other words, of a completely different nature. One where at the end of the day, we can lie down to sleep with joy and acceptance, and instead of Tick-Tock, we say Amen, Amen, Amen. Tonight, that is what I am praying for.