Satisfaction + "A Severe Mercy"

(These thoughts are all an instigation of finishing "A Severe Mercy" by Sheldon Vanauken, within which are numerous letters from C.S. Lewis. Thus these thoughts are not my own, I attribute them to Vanauken and Lewis.)

What is satisfaction? My dictionary says, “Fulfillment of one's wishes, expectations, or needs, or the pleasure derived from this.” There is much to find satisfaction in, however it never lasts. The pride of doing something well, the excitement of holding that person’s hand, the first smell of spring or the first snowfall of winter.
We are everlasting beings trapped in the temporal. Time surrounds us. We long for those moments when time is forgot, when we sit and stare for what could possibly have been hours, but we care or know not. We have phrases like, “How time flies.” Or, “Where has the time gone.” Or, “Time has stopped.” This sense of time, rather of time stopping, and our longing for timelessness reveals something of who we are.
A bird does not think it odd to be in the air, and fish does not long for the day it will be wholly free of water, but we consider the time when time will not be.
In our understanding of satisfaction we must consider one major thing, the things that we take comfort and pleasure in are intrinsically tied to time, yet we are not. Therefore it is reasonable to see their inability to satisfy us indefinitely. Though a portion of us may be pleased for a moment the whole of us will never feel that same pleasure because we are more than flesh and blood as seen by our desire for timelessness.
Yet we tier out our minds in contemplation of the temporal; we wear out our forearms with the tight grasp on stuff; our legs burn with the runner’s pain in our sprinting toward things. Yet every toy ever wanted will disappoint.
The computer I write on will fail. The chair I sit on will waste away. The books I read will become dust. Indeed the fingers pressing the buttons will rot.
So, where does this desire for timelessness come from? It is right to say God, yet we do not believe it. Rather we may believe the desire for timelessness comes from God, but we do not believe he can satisfy our timeless desire. So then what is it that we long for? There is nothing else to long for. Either God satisfies our desire or he does not.
But it is no failing on God’s part if our pining is not met in him, on the contrary he remains blameless and it is we who are at fault. For in our being in time we can adapt our longing (by God-given grace alone) to be conformed to that of God. For in God being unbound by time it is impossible that he change. For change requires the passing of time, time, which God is not tied with. Therefore it is we who must be molded into the timeless image of God rather than God pressed into the mold of time.
The pining of our soul to be free of time is that of a fish out of water longing to be in water or a bird wanting to fly. Our home is elsewhere. Though some comfort may be had now, we will grow tired of it, and though the shiny catches our eye now it will fade and rust. We long to be wholly melted and dissolved into and by love, or to say it differently we desire to be satisfied by God.