Could it be that Life’s only purpose is to put all the pieces together?
As a writer, I’ve often marveled at how characters take shape. At first, they are little more than names on a page. Yet as the story unfolds, they grow into beings with distinct personalities, quirks, and destinies. By the time the final chapter is written, they have become inseparable from the work itself. In creating them, I discover new perspectives on life, for they become—strangely enough—a part of my own existence.
If such characters could truly come into being, they would awaken only at the moment of their first appearance. They would not know their role in the story until they reached the end—unless, of course, they stumbled ahead by accident or were granted permission to glimpse the final chapter.
As a child, I was taught that God knows everything: past, present, and future. At the time, this troubled me. If the outcome of my life were already known, what freedom could I possibly have? What would be the purpose of living? Yet as I grew older, I experienced moments of déjà vu and dreams that later unfolded into reality. These experiences led me to consider that past, present, and future may coexist in ways we barely understand—that time itself may be less linear than we imagine.
Perhaps we are all characters in a novel already completed, acting out our lines on the present page. A sudden glimpse of the future might be nothing more than an accidental turning of more than one page. A sense of familiarity could be the misplaced bookmark that returns us to a passage we’ve already read.
I am open to the possibility that, long before time began, our characters were conceived by the Novelist who authored the Book of Life. And if that is true, then each of us—every soul who appears in His story—holds a place of profound significance in His existence.