This morning I was looking at old photos and videos with my kids, most of them taken six, seven years ago. Now and then, I laughed at the goofy faces, the mispronounced words, the quirky moments captured on camera.
But my heart also grieved. Seeing my children so small reminded me of the fleeting nature of life, this side of glory, and that we are, as James puts it “a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:14)
One moment our children are learning to say the words “cat” and “door”; the next, they’re learning algebra. Seasons change, life changes.
It’s not just in the last six years that I’ve seen seasons shift across time. In just one year, my family and I have seen our whole lives transformed. We went from living in Portugal—the country where my husband and I grew up, studied, worked, got married, and had children—to living a new life in Italy.
One year ago, we lived in a different house, country, time-zone. Where did that time go? Where did I go in that time?
How to Slow Time
Our perception of time passing is subjective. For children, time seems to pass slowly (remember how summer vacation seemed to last forever?) while for adults, time seems to run faster. In fact, the older we get, the faster it seems to go, as our perspective also changes.
But if that thought saddens you and you wish you knew how to slow time, there is hope.
Research shows that our perception of the speed of time seems to be largely determined by how much information our minds absorb and process. So the more information there is, the slower time seems to pass.
Children perceive time passing more slowly because they absorb so much more from their surroundings.
This means that the more awake we are to each moment, taking in each detail and allowing ourselves to be fully present to it, the more our perception of time will slow down.
I know this to be true. When I hurry through my days, life slips through my fingers. But the more I give myself to each moment in time—and give it all of me—the more each moment gets captured, treasured, and eternalized in my memory.
Perhaps that’s what we desire, more than anything. Not that we have more time, but that we experience it deeply.
As Ann Voskamp writes in her beautiful book, One Thousand Gifts: “I don’t really want more time; I just want enough time. Time to breathe deep and time to see real and time to laugh long, time to give You glory and rest deep and sing joy.”
As those who want to live fully right where we are, let us remember that even as time this side of glory is quietly vanishing, still God’s mercies are new every morning. (Lamentations 3:22-23)
When I reflect on God’s mercy afresh each day, it softens my grip on time—I start to receive it as a blessing, not a race.
Moving through life slowly is key to living each moment fully. When our lives are a hectic mess, we simply cannot treasure the present. As John Mark Comer writes in his fantastic book The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry: “Hurry is violence on the soul.”
Let’s look at some practical ways we can become more present in our daily lives and slow our perception of time so that we can find the fullest life.
Practices to Slow Time and Be Present
Reduce devices.
Put away your devices when you’re having a conversation with your husband, playing a game with your kids, or eating dinner with your loved ones. Savour each minute.
Eliminate noise.
Being present is about noticing, practicing gratitude, and focusing our thoughts on what is in front of us. Learn to cook and clean without music or podcasts running in the background, and get out into nature to sit in the silence. Notice what’s in front of you.
Build your concentration.
Actively do things that help build your capacity for deeper focus—read more books, sit with one article from start to finish without switching tabs, watch good-quality long films, work on a single task for increasing amounts of time instead of switching tasks quickly.
Keep a gratitude list.
At the end of each day, write two or three specific moments you noticed and treasured, like the way the morning sun fell softly on a jar of flowers, a phrase your child said, or the taste of a meal shared slowly with your family. This practice trains your eyes to see and be grateful for each moment that comes, rather than pining for what’s still ahead.
Go without a clock.
Spend a weekend morning, or ideally a whole day, without fixed time commitments that keep you bound to the clock. Instead, choose to fully enter each moment without rushing ahead, letting yourself be guided by your internal clock and resting with your family without rush.
Someday, I’ll sit down with photos from today—this very ordinary Tuesday—and ask where the time went all over again.
Instead of waiting for hindsight to make you grateful, ask yourself: What’s one moment today you can give yourself to fully, instead of rushing past it?
