While time may not be on my side, it is certainly on my mind. It seems to flow at different rates lately depending on my level of interest, access to distraction and depth of ambition. Sometime it runs away from me. Other times, it lingers pensively, studiously contemplating the pot upon the stove to legislate that, no, it shall not boil.
We think of time as a progression, a pointed movement along a singular, firmly rooted, linear track that deviates neither to the left nor right but instead rolls sonorously off towards a horizon we can only describe by its opposition to our current location. The past--presumably fixed behind us--is then. This, beneath our feet, is now. And there? There we shield our eyes from the light of the setting sun and nod to tomorrow.
Time, however, is an illusion. It's an elaborate system that we--spiritual beings caught in corporeal frames that fade and fail--employ in a vain effort to control the circumstances of our lives. Time, in a very real sense, isn't real at all.
This is why God is able to tell Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” (Jer 1:5) Because God was, is and always shall be, He exists completely always. Because He did not become God over time but instead is the same yesterday, today and forever more, we know that God does not--indeed, cannot--change.
Therefore, because God exists at all points and at all times, He has complete knowledge of us. We have free will to make our own choices, but He already knows what those choices are and will be. He already knows all outcomes, and He seeks to reassure us that He is always there, always accessible and always the same--yesterday, today and forever more.
Suddenly, time no longer seems so pressing.
