When God Holds Time in His Hands

I’ve been thinking lately about time. Maybe it’s because birthdays always make me extra reflective, or maybe it’s just the ocean getting into my head with all its endless crashing rhythms. But the thought came to me: what if past, present, and future aren’t as separate as we think? What if they all exist at once, like rooms in the same house, only separated by walls too thin for us to see through?

I mean, how else do you explain those moments when the past seems to show up through a dream, a spirit, or even the way a memory feels so alive you could touch it? I can’t shake the sense that our linear perspective is only one layer of reality. Scripture reminds me that to God, everything is already laid out: “I make known the end from the beginning,” He says in Isaiah, “my purpose will stand” (Isaiah 46:10). We’re moving step by step, but He sees the whole path in one glance. That thought both comforts me and makes me laugh at my tendency to overthink. I’m stressing over mile marker #27 while God’s already smiling at mile marker #126.

The Page Already Written

The image that comes to mind is an open book. For us, life unfolds line by line, page by page. But for God, the book is already written and open before Him. Past, present, future — it’s all there in a single view. “A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by,” Psalm 90:4 says. No wonder He tells us not to worry so much; what feels like forever to me is only a moment to Him.

I was reminded of this recently when I prayed at the beach. In the morning, I watched the sunrise and prayed over the day ahead. That evening, I went back and watched the sunset, closing out the last year of my life in prayer as the light sank into the horizon. Sunrise, sunset — beginning, end. Both happened on the same day, and I was there for both. It felt like God was giving me a little wink: See? Time is mine. You’re safe in it.

Eternity in Our Hearts

Ecclesiastes says God has placed eternity in our hearts, but that we can’t fathom it fully (Ecclesiastes 3:11). That’s exactly how it feels. There are moments where eternity brushes against us, and suddenly time feels stretchy, thin. Like when I was listening to “Mikrokosmos” on my drive, tears filling my eyes as memories of BTS concerts and community flooded back. The joy I felt wasn’t just tied to one night in one arena. It felt eternal, like a glimpse of heaven’s chorus tucked into an earthly moment.

C.S. Lewis once wrote, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” That longing for “more” is eternity humming inside us. It’s why concerts feel like forever in a night, why friendships rooted in prayer feel timeless, and why grief hurts so much — because something in us knows we were created for life without endings.

Living in the Middle

But here’s the tension: we live in the middle of the story. We can’t see the last chapter, though God already holds it. Revelation describes Him as the One “who is, and who was, and who is to come” (Revelation 1:8). It means He’s already present in the future we haven’t lived yet, while still walking beside us right now.

That truth hit me this week when a friend surprised me with an unexpected gift — money toward my birthday. For me, it wasn’t just about the amount; it was a reminder that God sees my financial stress before I even speak it out loud. He knew I’d need that encouragement, and He provided it through someone I never expected. It felt like future provision arriving early, like God whispering, “See, I’ve already written this page.”

Soul Insights

1. Time is God’s canvas, not ours.

We only see brushstrokes, fleeting moments we often label as random or disconnected. But God is holding the whole canvas — the layers of color, the shadows and light, the way one stroke connects to the next. This shifts the pressure off my shoulders; I don’t have to control the masterpiece. My only responsibility is to keep showing up with my small strokes of faith, knowing they belong to a much bigger picture.

2. Eternity leaks into daily life.

Sometimes eternity slips in through unexpected cracks: a song that carries you back to joy, a prayer that feels bigger than your own words, a sunset that stills you. These aren’t accidents, they’re glimpses of the eternal story breaking through into the now. Paying attention to these “thin places” keeps my soul awake and reminds me I was made for more than deadlines and routines. Each glimpse is like a postcard from heaven, reminding me where my true home is.

3. God’s view is steady, even when mine wobbles.

My perspective is tied to circumstances: when I’m tired, I see problems; when I’m hopeful, I see possibilities. But God’s perspective is not tied to my mood swings or my to-do list. He holds the whole timeline and isn’t shaken by my uncertainty. Learning to anchor my decisions and emotions to His steadiness instead of my shifting feelings gives me a quiet strength, a strength that says, even if I can’t see it yet, God already has this page written.

4. Provision often comes disguised.

I’ve noticed that the most meaningful answers to prayer rarely look like what I pictured. A birthday gift, a kind word at the right time, an open door I didn’t know existed, these are all ways God shows His care. The trick is learning to see provision beyond the obvious and trusting that every gift carries His fingerprints. When I hold things loosely, I make space for surprise, and those surprises often teach me more about His character than the big moments I was waiting for.

5. Faith is trusting the Author.

Life sometimes feels like a messy first draft full of scribbles, plot twists, and confusing dialogue. But if God is the Author, then none of it is wasted, even the rough chapters serve the story. My role is not to rewrite the script or skip ahead, but to live into the page I’ve been given today. Trust means handing the pen back to Him and believing that the ending is already good, even if I’m stuck in the middle of a hard paragraph.

✨ Final Thoughts

Maybe past, present, and future really are all happening at once, maybe that’s why eternity sometimes sneaks through in goosebumps, in tears, in laughter. But even if I can’t fully grasp it, I can trust the God who sees the entire book of my life spread open before Him. My job is to keep turning the page, one day at a time, knowing He already holds the ending in His hands.

📣 Your Turn

What glimpses of eternity have you noticed lately, in a song, a conversation, or a simple sunrise? I’d love for you to pause and name them. Write them down, whisper them in prayer, or share them with a friend. Let’s practice noticing where God is pulling back the veil, reminding us that time is His, and that we’re safe in the story He’s writing.

Soul Path Insights