Time blindness is one of those phrases that sounds technical until it becomes painfully personal.

I don’t feel time the way other people seem to. Ten minutes and two hours can feel identical in my body. Deadlines sneak up like jump scares. Waiting feels endless. And yet, entire seasons of my life pass before I realize how much God has been doing underneath the surface.

As a neurodivergent professional, I’ve spent years trying to “fix” my relationship with time. Timers. Calendars. Color-coded planners. Systems stacked on systems. Some help. Some don’t. But none of them erase the quiet shame that creeps in when I miss a deadline or underestimate how long something will take.

Hip-hop has always named this tension better than I can. When J. Cole says in Love Yourz, “There’s beauty in the struggle, ugliness in the success,” I hear the truth about time. The struggle stretches. The waiting aches. The success looks sudden, but only because we weren’t counting the long obedience it took to get there.

Scripture meets me right there.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”
—Ecclesiastes 3:1

That verse used to frustrate me. A time for everything? I can barely keep track of this time. But I’m learning that God’s sense of time isn’t about punctuality. It’s about purpose.

My time blindness makes me impatient. I want answers now. Healing now. Clarity now. I want God to move on my schedule, preferably synced with my Google Calendar. But God keeps reminding me that delay is not denial, and waiting is not wasted.

Deadlines matter. Bills are real. Responsibilities don’t disappear just because my brain processes time differently. But faith reframes the narrative. When I miss the mark, God doesn’t shame me. He steadies me.

“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness.”
—2 Peter 3:9

What feels like slowness to me is often mercy in motion.

I’m learning to hold two truths at once: I can build supports for my time blindness and trust God’s timing. I can set reminders and surrender outcomes. I can grieve the time I lose while honoring the growth that happens in the waiting.

Some days, time still slips through my fingers. But God never does.

And maybe that’s the point.

Copyright © 2026 by Edna Brown. All Rights Reserved.