Pondering the Passage of Time

I’ve lived in the Tucson area for more than ten years now, but I’ve been visiting much longer. In fact, I used to visit as a child, when our family drove over from Albuquerque to celebrate Christmas or spend part of summer vacation with my paternal grandparents. Today I want to reflect on the passage of time since I began coming here on retreat.

Back in 2004, I was working as a meeting administrator for the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts. We got three days of retreat as part of our benefits package, and I was missing the desert. Searching online, I found what was then called Picture Rocks Retreat Center (now Redemptorist Renewal Center, or RRC), outside Tucson, and called to see if I could stay there. They were booked, but they asked more about what I wanted and recommended the Desert House of Prayer across the street.

Over the next few years, I was blessed to take multiple week-long retreats at Desert House (which unfortunately closed during COVID). I spent at least some of my retreat time walking in the desert, taking pictures. There’s one arroyo, or wash (like the dry riverbed I mentioned in last week’s post) that I revisited numerous times on my walks. During those visits, I got to know a couple of landmarks pretty well.

Last summer, I was on retreat with my writer group at the RRC (where I also spent many blessed days teaching at the Hesychia School of Spiritual Direction—which has also now closed) and revisited the saguaro whose roots are pictured here. The first picture was taken in 2008, the second seventeen years later. You can see how the roots have literally split and lifted the rock over the passage of time.

A month ago, I was back at RRC and took a walk to another landmark that is probably as old as the saguaro. Clearly, at some point, this old car washed into the wash and was abandoned. Back in 2006, when I first saw it, the windshield frame and wall between cabin and engine were still intact. Now, a full twenty years later, you can see in the picture above that the passage of time and monsoon waters have dismantled the car much further.

Time splinters all, including volcanic rock and smelted iron. The passage of time, the slow work of well-rooted growth, and the strong energy of wild weather will inevitably transform what we imagine is permanent.

This may seem paradoxical, but I’m encouraged by this. We are in the midst of a period of massive change in US culture—but it won’t last either. Today’s best new thing will be tomorrow’s dusty rust. Mountains we feared were immovable will slowly crack and eventually wash away.

With the passage of time, as the apostle Paul taught, the greatest of what endures is love. How are you invited to show lasting love to others today?