God’s Eternal Gift of Time
“We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work.” John 9:4 (ESV)
“What time is it?” It’s a common question we ask each other all time. Yet, do we really know what the deeper meaning of that question might be?
Time is one of those gifts we rarely notice until we feel it slipping through our fingers. We measure it, schedule it, complain about not having enough of it — but we seldom pause to consider where it came from in the first place.
Scripture quietly reminds us of something profound: time itself is a creation of God.
God lives in eternity. He doesn’t need clocks or calendars, nor does He have deadlines. Yet for us, God created time as the structure surrounding our lives. As Paul reminded his readers in 2 Timothy 1:9, God “saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began.”
Before there were mornings or birthdays or deadlines, there was already purpose. Already grace. Already a plan for us.
That truth is both comforting and humbling. It means our lives are not accidents drifting through random moments. Time is not just something we spend (or waste); it’s something God entrusts to us so His purposes can take shape in our days. In a very real sense, time is the soil where calling grows.
Paul gives another gentle but direct reminder in Ephesians 5:15–16: “See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil”
“Redeeming the time” doesn’t mean squeezing productivity out of every minute or turning life into a checklist. It means recognizing that every moment matters. Choices matter. Small daily decisions build one on another to form the direction of a life.
We all have the same 24 hours in a day. Yet those hours can become entirely different things depending on how we use them. One person invests time learning, growing, loving, and healing. Another may spend the same hours feeding worry, resentment, or distraction. Time itself is like the same rain falling on every field. What grows depends on what we plant.
Think of it like seeds in a garden. If I asked you where next year’s watermelons will come from, you’d probably smile and say, “from the grocery,” or if you have a garden, “from this year’s seeds.” Watermelons don’t appear by accident. They come from seeds placed in soil, nurtured, and given time. The ingredients are simple: a seed, good ground, and patience. Time is what allows hidden potential to become visible fruit.
Our lives work the same way. Every act of kindness is a seed. Every prayer is a seed. Every step we take toward health, forgiveness, or wisdom is a seed. Even unseen decisions — doing the right thing when no one’s watching, offering grace when it’s undeserved — are seeds quietly taking root. A seed sown is asking something of time. A seed ignored is simply letting time drift by unused.
Jesus used this example when telling the Parable of the Sower in Luke 8, Mark 4 and Matthew 13. The time was the same for each of the four types of hearts in the parable (the hardened heart, the shallow heart, the worldly heart, the fruitful heart). The difference was not how much time each heart had, but what each chose to do with that time!
The beautiful part is that God has already placed extraordinary seeds inside each of us. Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. These aren’t distant ideals; they’re living possibilities waiting for cultivation. But like any seed, they won’t grow merely because we admire them or write them on lists. They grow when we plant them through action and nurture them through consistency.
Ultimately, time is not just a resource, it’s an eternal gift. It’s the canvas where relationships are built, where healing happens, where opportunities appear, and where character is formed. We cannot store it or rewind it, but we can steward it. We can choose to fill it with things that echo into eternity rather than evaporating by evening.
And here’s a comforting truth: making the most of our time doesn’t require grand gestures. It often looks like small faithfulness. A conversation we didn’t rush. A prayer whispered instead of postponed. A habit adjusted. A moment of gratitude offered instead of complaint. These are simple seeds, but over months and years they shape our lives.
So perhaps the question is not, “Do I have enough time?” but “What am I planting in the time I’ve been given?”
God, who stands outside of time, stepped into it through Christ so our days could carry eternal meaning. That alone tells us how valuable our moments are to Him.
You already have what you need to begin. The soil is today. The seeds are in your hands. And the gift of time — this very hour, this very breath — is God’s quiet invitation to grow something beautiful.
May God continuously lead your path.