As I scratched the date into my Moleskine journal with my metal Sharpie pen, I stared down at its glistening ink in disbelief. January 31, 2013? What in the world? My mind raced. Did I actually just live 30 24-hour days in January, or had I inadvertently been zapped through a wormhole of the space-time continuum sometime around January 5?

I remember turning 45 on that day. I do remember a trip to Arkansas, a couple of book signings, and a great leadership retreat with UAM BCM students. I have recall of preaching at our church, yelling at our cat and playing board games with my family. But really, January, has it really been 31 days?

I'd like to grab one of these jet-set, turbo hours by the throat and insist that it sit down, slow down and have a cup of coffee with me. If it is really January 31, then there are only 11 more months in 2013. Each sonic hour that screams by blurs the 60 precious, individual minutes within it. Someone needs to encourage Father Time to give his 60 minute-children some TLC. After all, they are only there once. That's not even to mention his 3600 second-grandchildren that he just completely ignores when he's racing through January as he is. Perhaps February, with its lovers' holiday, will insist that he stop and smell the roses.

At any rate - and right now it's a rapid one - this day still has some good life left in it. While we may not can slow it down, we can surely drink it up. Enjoy today. Carpe diem, or whatever. And if you happen to coax an hour into a coffee shop with you, buy it a later latte.