thoughts on borrowed time

 excerpt from an old journal entry

what does it mean this idea of borrowed time? of living on borrowed time? the premise being that the thing that kills you has already been set in motion; that your days were numbered and they ran out but you're still living. but borrowed from who or where?

a search yields little fruit as to the historical footprints of the two words now joined, but it strikes me that in this mad game we call life every breath of every being is borrowed time. grace. borrowed from His blood. from our first gasp we exist under a death sentence and every moment is an opportunity lent us to plead the blood. 

to recognise that our life is not our own. to breathe in grace and breathe out gratitude. we can never repay the loan but we can make good use of it. if I truly understood or saw the remaining grains of sand what would I do differently? how would I spend such a debt? what words would I say or leave unsaid?

borrowed from His blood. or could I see each moment as a heartbeat closer to time never ending? life borrowed from life everlasting--the chance to choose to never die or spend borrowed time until it runs out. what incredible mercy is mine.