What If Time Is Not Linear?

We experience time as though it moves in a straight line—past behind us, present beneath our feet, and future stretching before us like an unending road. To us, it is a timeline, a two-dimensional image we can point to and mark by moments. As believers, we may imagine that this line extends infinitely into eternity.

But what if time is not merely a line? What if, in Christ, time itself is defined—not as motion, but as meaning?

He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. Time finds its boundary and fullness in Him. In Christ, past, present, and future converge. He is the Resurrection and the Life—the embodiment of eternity within the fabric of time.

Perhaps time is not measured by seconds or centuries, but by love—the eternal substance that fills all things. Imagine time as a series of rooms, each filled with the measure of love contained within it. Eras may be rooms overflowing with either life or death, fear or faith. We are not merely travelers through these rooms; we are builders, called to fill them with the fragrance of heaven.

After the end of the Korean conflict, America entered a new “room”—the 1950s and early 1960s—an era of prosperity and expansion. Amid wars and unrest, the nation turned its heart toward Christ. Voices like Billy Graham and Oral Roberts carried a message of hope and salvation that comforted a weary people. Yet, as always, the enemy sowed a counterfeit—an age of escapism branded by sex, drugs, and rock and roll. God offered a culture of holiness; the enemy offered a counter-culture of indulgence.

As the second millennium closed, new fears emerged. AIDS, Y2K, pandemics—waves of anxiety swept the globe. Then came COVID. The virus was real; its effects undeniable. I myself was hospitalized for five days. Yet, beyond the sickness, something else spread faster and further—fear.

Did the enemy strike early, attempting to choke out a global awakening before it could take root? Churches closed, travel stopped, gatherings ceased. Even our mouths were covered—our praise and testimony symbolically silenced. Though the virus was real, the greater pandemic was fear, which sought to smother faith and isolate hearts.

But we, the people of God, can close one season and open another. If eras are measured by love, then let us seal the age of fear, sickness, and death, and open a new one marked by faith, hope, and love.

As believers, our inner posture shapes our external reality. The atmosphere of our hearts influences the seasons we live in. Let us adopt the attitude of heaven—a stance of joy, peace, and unshakable trust. Let us keep praying for one another, for those who minister the Word, and for our cities, states, and nations.

A New Season Unfolding

On September 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk, a conservative voice and advocate, was assassinated. Could this mark the opening of another “box”—a new season in the spiritual timeline of this nation? Is something shifting in the unseen? Is a counter-culture of righteousness and truth preparing to rise as darkness makes its move?

History echoes. In the 1960s, three assassinations—JFK, RFK, and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—shook America’s foundations. The nation grieved and lost its spiritual bearings, trading faith for frustration, and compassion for conflict.

Now again, we stand at a threshold. The question is not only what happens in the world—but what happens in us.

Will we respond with anger or with love? With fear or with faith?

Love and forgiveness are not weakness—they are the fiercest weapons of the Kingdom. They disarm hatred, dismantle fear, and dethrone bitterness. In an age of division, they shine as light in the darkness.

So, be equipped. Let your love define your time. For in the end, it is not the length of the line that matters—it is the measure of love that fills it.