Sea Island, GA
June 6, 2026
“Dost thou love life? Then do not squander Time; for that is the Stuff Life is made of.”
– Benjamin Franklin
It’s easy to fear the worst or feel sorry for ourselves. A select few have the fortitude to resist. But most of us don’t.
We waste time ruminating about what’s already been, or fretting what’s yet to come (but that usually never does). And while we do, another day slips thru the hour-glass, adding more grains to our pile of regret.
A Heracletian Stream
Every moment is a gift from God. But too often we return it as soon as it arrives, allowing it to drift away as if we never had it. The present, as John Olson put it, is the fragile fulcrum balancing the fixed past with a fertile future. It’s fleeting and finite, and we’ll never get it back. But it’s all we have.
Life is a Heraclitian stream. We never wade into the same moment twice. But, whether into warm springs or raging whirlpool, we take a dip every day, like it or not. Time either carries us indifferently, like a piece of trash on river rapids… or, it washes over us as we dive in, trying to catch an enervating wave.
There’ve always been swirls and eddies amid the primary flow. But it seems more and more as if societal undertows pull us down, or that cultural currents carry us away.
It can be tough to stem the tide, or to keep from drowning. But as one who’s spent time treading water and searching for shore, I am more certain than ever that we must keep swimming. Simply staying afloat can be more exhausting than catching a current or fighting the tide.
Not that it’s easy. We all go thru slumps…periods where every decision seems to be a mistake (even if it isn’t), leaving us petrified of making another. It’s like walking across thin ice that’s covered in egg shells. Something will crack. It just can’t be us.
The Affliction of the Affluent
We mustn’t give up, or get bored. Or worse, become boring.
Boredom, as Matthew Kelly reminds us, is a manifestation of the sin of pride. It can only occur when we are overly focused on ourselves, to the exclusion of God, and everyone else.
Besides, boredom is unseemly. It arises not from want, but from abundance. Poor people are rarely bored. They haven’t the time, or the luxury.
Apathy is an affliction of the affluent. But, whether we like (or are ready for) it or not, apathy and affluence can disappear fast. With all that’s going on in the world, we remain at risk of being reminded.
We wouldn’t be the first.
Dawn Breaks and Dusk Descends
On a bluff near Colleville-sur-Mer, on the Normandy coast, white crosses fill the field and extend to the horizon. Beneath them are the bodies of boys, the first of whom were laid there eighty-two years ago, on muddy ground under thick tarp.
They’d been dead a couple days, and were placed in (or on) temporary graves overlooking Omaha Beach. After the war, the permanent cemetery was established not far from that site.
We noted above that each morning is a unique threshold: a fulcrum balancing the eternal past and an infinite future. It’s a fresh start, and a new beginning. Like every day.
Or is it?
Thousands of young men buried beneath the bluffs of France once thought so. As did countless Germans who blocked the beach. A few years earlier they all had other plans, until their “leaders” had different ideas.
These young men had femmes to marry, fräulein to meet, and families to form. The last thing they wanted was to kill each other. Had they met in a tavern or crossed paths in a pub, they might’ve been friends.
But now, because of destructive decisions of men they’d never met, they had no choice but to slaughter perfect strangers. These soldiers had their whole lives ahead of them.
Until they didn’t.
In the fading darkness, the young Teutons took their assigned positions atop the cliff. They peered toward the solemn sound of ascending surf. Into the mist they set their sights, toward the amphibious assault they knew was coming.
Crossing the choppy channel under ominous skies, American boys packed cheek by jowl on their Higgins boats. They offered sincere prayers to Almighty God, said silent goodbyes to despondent parents, and kissed fading photos of pretty girls.
As the coast appeared, the dawn broke. When it did, for most of these men, dusk descended. Their time was up, and their day was done.
JD
Yes, very profound, Thank you...
Sobering!
Let's all hope we can have the sense to avoid future slaughter and have wiser leaders.