I wouldn't.
I spent several days wishing I could go back in time. Turn the clock back. Flip the calendar backward. No time machine presented itself.
Then I wanted to see the future. God shut me down on that one in the space of about two hours. But that's a story all on its own, and I'll share that some other time.
This morning we were on our way to church and I was in a funk. Went to bed that way. Woke up that way. Griping at God. Wanting to go back again. Telling him what a mess it was and now it was too late.
But him, being God and all, scolded me and let me know that it's never too late. He reminded me of the story of Lazarus. Not only did Jesus show up after Lazarus died, he was decomposing. Death. Decay. Stink. And with three words, "Lazarus, come forth", Lazarus walked out whole.
My timeline, my limits, my restrictions on God are exactly that. MINE! He has none. So I'm content here in my present. Or should I say in his presence. Watching. Waiting. Believing. Trusting.
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