I’ve been thinking since this morning about time.  It started as I finished a hurried, distracted conversation with someone who has so much to tell me but not enough time to tell it because she has to get to work.  And, so do I.  Frustrating.  I want to hear the story!  I think about other times when I want to “spend time” with someone but it just doesn’t work out because one or the other of us “doesn’t have the time” after taking care of our responsibilities.  I remember time from the past, periods of my life that I want to rewind to and play over and over again, or maybe freeze and just stay there.  But I can’t.  It’s in the past, and I can’t go back, but only forward.  Because that’s the way time works.

Wouldn’t it be great if there was no time?  I don’t mean “no time” like we usually mean when we say that phrase, as in, “I have no time for myself,” or “I don’t have enough time to get everything done!”  No.  I mean—what if there was no such thing as time?  What if time didn’t exist?  That seems like a very pleasant existence to me as I think about it today.  Maybe that’s part of what makes heaven—timelessness.  A constraint lifted, eliminated, freedom.