“Looked upon from above, our years
on earth are not simply chronos, but

kairos—another Greek word for time
—which is the opportunity to claim for

ourselves the love that God offers us
from eternity to eternity,” wrote Henri

Nouwen, and I revel in kairos as the
chronos slips away, but I think of Dylan

Thomas and will “not go gentle into that
good night,” but I will not “rage, rage

against the dying of the light,” because
I will embrace the eternal light.