right place, right time

This week my mind has been kindly interrupted with the idea surrounding divine timing or being in the right place at the right time.  A lot of these thoughts happen at night when I can’t sleep, and then are reiterated and re-visited during my more coherent waking hours.

After mulling this over in consideration for the past several weeks, I have come up with one very specific thought about it all:  We are all inter-connected by the sheer fact that we are humans and are created by God.  By scientific standards, humans hold common characteristics: physical, mental, psychological, spiritual.  To me, that means there is connectivity throughout creation.  I believe we are all specifically connected to one another by a higher power and to a higher power and hence, divine timing plays a roll in life.

We are all offered opportunities on a daily basis to connect or not connect.  We can’t undo the connection-it is already there, by ways mentioned above.  But we can choose to engage in that connection or not.  I think that action and awareness are catalysts to divine timing.

I believe that divine timing or being in the right place at the right time can still fit into the paradigm of free will.  We have been created with free will to make our own choices. Therefore we can choose to be aware and take action in any situation.  Being aware is the first step to seeing miracles.  We are presented daily with opportunities to be in the right place at the right time-if we are aware, there is fantastic occasion for something awesome to happen!

As all of these ideas have been swirling around in my head, I was reminded of an incident that I believe was divine in its timing.  It happened when I was a teenager and I think it illustrates my point:

There were about ten girls who got together to celebrate our friend’s 16th birthday.  (I’ll call her Sally).  Sally’s mom had prepared a scavenger hunt for us to do before it got dark.  She gave us a list of items and a set amount of time to gather the trivial things from neighbors.  We all ran like crazy from door to door, one girl in charge of requesting the item, another keeping her eye on the clock.

The home was almost directly across the street from Sally’s house.  We knocked.  We rang.  Finally the door slowly opened, stopped after a foot, and part of a woman’s face with eyes that couldn’t meet ours, stared at our feet.  We asked if she had any of the items on our list.  She timidly took our paper and with a distracted and quiet voice she confessed she wasn’t sure.  We explained exactly what we were up to.  The door widened a bit more.  A full view of the woman’s face came into focus and suddenly we were the ones staring at our feet.

She was ashamed.  We were bewildered teenagers.  Sally spoke up.  “Miss-are you okay?  What happened?  Are you okay?” she repeated.

The woman trembled at her queries.  She began to cry and speak in muffled tones through the hands covering her face.  Black and blue spoke words that she could not verbalize.  Her frail frame became embraced in our arms as we invited ourselves in to her vestibule.

“He’s gone now,” she confessed.  “But I don’t know when he’ll be back.  It’s not safe here.  You should go,” she sobbed.

Our sixteen-year-old voices pierced the setting darkness with idyllic speak.  “You don’t have to live like this,” one of us said.  It was the voice of a small-town girl who’d seen too many television ads for domestic abuse.

“We’ll help you,” said someone else.

“There are places you can go,” I said.

The heaviness that sat upon her shoulders became too much to bare, and in that moment, she said yes to the possibility of change.  We, a group of naive and chivalrous teenagers, blanketed the woman in all that we had in our sixteen-year-old arsenals:  kind words, hopeful thoughts, delicate affirmations.

*                       *                      *                               *                               *                       *

Back at Sally’s, the woman repeatedly apologized for crashing the party.  Sally’s mom, the epitome of kindness and strength, hushed the visitor with a cup of hot tea and birthday cake.  While we waited for the police, phone calls were made to local shelters.

*                         *                      *                             *                                *                         *

At that precise moment in time, the action that we took strengthened the situation by our openness to connect with that woman.  It would have been a lot easier to walk away and scoff a typical reply about her.  “Well, that lady was weird.”  But our ability to see the advantage of our timing and ACT on it plus the woman’s response and willingness to connect is what made that timing divine.

Our free will allows us to pick and choose where we go and what we do.  I believe that every day and every moment is our right time It’s how we choose to spend it, work it and connect it to others that makes the difference.

I ask myself, “What would have happened had an adult knocked on her door?  Would he or she had pried as much as we girls?  Would the woman have been as receptive as she was?  What if we had knocked on the door 20 minutes earlier?  What if the man was still home?”  Being active and aware is our part; the rest is up to God.




2 thoughts on “right place, right time

  1. One of the things that I’ve begun to really understand is that I have only this time and this space that’s right before me. And I must make the most of every moment. Every moment can be considered sacred time. And as you mentioned, being just aware of it is the first huge step.

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