Psalm 90

This psalm is called a prayer of Moses, the man of God. I have no idea how they would know that but the psalmist here is looking back over the years of his life. He is an older man. He has seen much sorrow. 

For all our days are passed away in Thy wrath; we spend our years as a tale that is told.

To me, the significant part of Psalm 90 is the reckoning of time. He begins with a description of God's time.

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.

There is something very comforting in that thought. Life on Earth is so precarious. You try your best to create stability in your life. And yet we see in the lives of refugees how quickly it can all be taken away. There is something so very frightening about having seen the hurricanes and fires this year destroy homes and lives. Nothing on earth is permanent. 

But God is. There is One who is and was and will always be there. Be there to love and comfort and strengthen us. One who cares about each of us for we are His.

The psalmist then uses some touching phrases to describe our mortal time.

For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past and as a watch in the night.

The days of our years are threescore and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow. For it is too soon cut off and we fly away.

So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

I am threescore and ten plus six. I have become my mother. Where did the years go?

I am still that little girl I see in the photos. But I am also that young mom with her little flock of Ackroyd's. I am a grandmother. It is all so unreal. It is as a dream in the night. Why did it fly by so quickly?

It's funny how when you have a baby, the magic of watching this child grow consumes you. We record the first smile, the first word, the first step. We glory in the constant development. And there comes today all too soon when you want to yell, "Stop! I'm not ready to have you grown."

And while we watch the children grow, we don't even notice the changes in ourselves until one day we look in the mirror and see an old person. Where did she come from? How did this happen? The years have flown by all too quickly. 

We long for days gone by. It all begins to feel so precious in ways we could not see when we were young.

We watch ourselves saying to those younger, "Enjoy your time of life. It goes by so quickly." We regret that we ever wished time to hurry by.

Why were we in such a hurry? How could we have known it would all be gone so very soon? Why didn't we just love every moment?