A Traveler Passing Through

Daily Office Readings — September 1, 2026
Psalms 26, 28, 36, 39; Job 12:1; 13:3–17, 21–27; Acts 12:1–17; John 8:33–47

This morning I found myself lingering over the Psalms.

David seems to be in turmoil. He asks God to hear him. He asks God to examine him and vindicate him. He speaks about the wicked and the proud. He tries remaining silent, only to discover that the turmoil within him grows worse.

Then, in Psalm 39, something changes.

David begins thinking about how brief life really is.

He asks God to help him understand the measure of his days. He recognizes that human life is fleeting. We are here for such a short time compared with the generations that came before us and the generations that will follow.

Then comes the line that stopped me this morning:

“I am your guest, a traveler passing through, as my ancestors were before me.”

I understand those words differently today than I would have understood them when I was young.

There comes a point along the journey when we realize that the road ahead is shorter than the road behind us.

That doesn’t have to be frightening or depressing. Perhaps it can become an invitation to wisdom.

Psalm 90 says, “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

Paul tells us to make the most of our time. The older translations say, “redeeming the time.”

I have been thinking about those words.

Redeeming the time doesn’t mean filling every minute with activity. It doesn’t mean accomplishing everything we once dreamed of accomplishing. And it certainly doesn’t mean looking backward and tormenting ourselves with what might have been.

What might have been is exactly that—what might have been.

Life has taught me that the roads we travel, including the unexpected ones, teach us things we could never have learned standing at the beginning of the journey.

Perhaps wisdom comes when we stop asking how much time we have and begin asking what the time we have been given is for.

That is where I find myself today.

There is some turmoil in my soul, much like I hear in David’s words. I am discerning. I am listening. I don’t want to mistake my own desires for the voice of God, so I am testing what I sense and asking God for wisdom.

But underneath the turmoil is a growing desire:

I want to be about my Father’s business.

I want the time entrusted to me to matter—not because I need to accomplish something impressive, but because time itself has become precious.

I want time for prayer.

Time for Sacred Writings.

Time for study.

Time for writing.

Time for people.

Time for worship.

Time for silence.

Time simply to listen for God.

Maybe this is part of what it means to redeem the time.

Years ago, Proverbs 3:5–6 became important to me:

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”

Those words sound different after you have traveled awhile.

When we are young, we may read them while looking toward an entire lifetime stretching before us.

Later we may read the same words and realize that we still don’t know where the road leads.

Perhaps we were never supposed to.

We were simply asked to trust the One who walks it with us.

Psalm 36 provides the beautiful contrast.

Our lives are brief, but God’s steadfast love reaches to the heavens.

We change. God remains faithful.

We are finite. God is eternal.

We are travelers. God is our dwelling place.

So today I am not asking God to show me the rest of the journey.

I am asking something simpler:

Lord, what would you have me do with the time you have given me?

Maybe that is enough.

I am a guest.

I am a traveler passing through.

And while I am here, I want to be about my Father’s business.

A Pilgrim’s Prayer

Lord,
teach me to number my days,
not so that I will fear their ending,
but so that I may live them wisely.

Quiet the turmoil within me enough
that I may recognize your voice.

Keep me from confusing fear with wisdom,
weariness with calling,
or my own desires with your leading.

Teach me to trust you with all my heart.

Show me what deserves my time,
what I need to release,
what I need to embrace,
and where love is calling me next.

I am your guest,
a traveler passing through.

For however long the journey continues,
help me to be about my Father’s business.

Amen.