Time is both fact and dilemma. It frustrates, disappoints, rewards and thwarts. It blinds us (can’t see the future); lures us (maybe today will be better); haunts us (“memories, like the corners of my mind…”); and intoxicates (I never want this moment to end!). It is perhaps the most inescapable mystery of human existence.
The Greek poet Aeschylus captured the most direct utility of Time, noting that “Time brings all things to pass.” No duh, right? Yet the observation remains useful, if only because 2500 years later, C.S. Lewis said pretty much the same thing: “The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of 60 minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.” In other words, you can’t escape it, you can only go through it if you wish to discover what lies on the other side. Whether we are talking about the next hour, day or decade, tomorrow is the unfulfilled mission of your life. Which brings us back to a wandering Semite named Abram, for whom God has big, big plans. Outrageous, hard-to-fathom big.
“And (God) took him outside and said, ‘Now look toward the heavens, and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ And He said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ Then he believed in the LORD; and He reckoned it to him as righteousness.” (Gen. 15:5-6)
The fact is, if we truly knew what God had in store for us—if all at once, our entire future could be compressed into present revelation—our brains would melt. So Time is a form of mercy, a steady-dripping IV, dosing your destiny so that READ MORE >>>
