You can go back in time, to anytime, to any place. You can be yourself or another at that time and that place.
Who do you choose? When?
You refuse. Why?
Is the now simply too amazing, too fulfilling, too prosperous, too joyous, too easy, too good, too safe for you to deny yourself a chance to go back to anytime, any place?
Spoiler: You can’t return. You can’t travel to multiple times and spaces. But, for your chosen place and time and person you can be a king or pasha, a prince or princess, a famous writer, inventor, world changer, you can take with you all your present-day knowledge, the product of hundreds, potentially thousands of years of human advancement.
What’s stopping you?
Loved ones? Life-saving medicines and surgeries?
If you are going to refuse the opportunity to be the unchecked long ago ruler of a far away nation, all your whims and desires met, your power so great as to be immeasurable, it seems like there should be at least one — probably many — grand, bold, truly magical alterations to your brain, body, or perhaps the world itself that’s holding you back.
Now’s your chance!
Again, you refuse. You simply can’t give up your smartphone. You can’t deny yourself television. You dread the absence of the automobile, refrigerator, lightbulb, chat apps.
Past the midpoint of the second decade of the 21st century, and we can’t teleport, can’t travel even to the moon. There are no flying cars, no cities at the bottom of the ocean, our grandest, boldest, biggest, most inspiring dreams of the past 100+ years — and the past 5 — are all yet to happen, there are still wars, still diseases, cancers, violence. Yet I suspect most would ultimately refuse to give up their smartphone and television and lipitor and Nissan Sentras and Chinese take-out, even if offered the chance to become Emperor of Rome, or Copernicus.
We’ve demanded too little from ourselves and maybe too little from our present. Maybe we’ve already let the future down.
Let’s say that you believe in God. You believe in God and that God’s presence is active within our lives. Now let’s say that God comes to you, in either a dream, a vision, as a burning bush. However you’re most comfortable. God tells you, in this vision, that you will blessed like no other, that your descendants will prosper like no other, they will be kings.
Let’s say all this happened 1,200 years ago. Or 2,500 years ago. Or 750 years ago.
God promises you much, in this vision, more than you ever dared dream. He adds to this the promise that your descendants — so many descendants — will be kings, special.
Flash forward to now. You wouldn’t even want to leave your current middling station to go back and be one of those godly anointed kings.
Which begs the question: what would God have to promise you now?
We’ve been too easy on ourselves. We should, each, be much farther along than we are.
Is it because we didn’t make use of God’s blessings to their fullest extent?
What else can we put to better use?