>In the past several years, more than all the previous years combined, I have heard people talk about God’s perfect timing. At first, it sort of made me want to roll my eyes, but I decided that I would work to shed a little of the cynicism with which I had clothed myself for most of my life and just be quiet and pay attention. Little by little, I began to see what they were talking about. Little things. Big things. Life-changing things.

And all of a sudden, I felt really small. But, surprisingly, not insignificant. I felt like a small cog in a very universal and complex mechanism. And I knew that if I was not doing my part, not paying attention, not remaining open to the truth that I was not only important in the process and functioning of the universe, but altogether essential . . . my inaction and apathy could cause the whole thing to spin out of control. Again, much to my surprise, I did not feel pressure, but rather, I felt a real sense of honor and importance. I understood for the first time my uniqueness, my contribution, and its essence.

That is not to say that I always know exactly what to do, who to talk to, or where to go. But it is to say that I no longer make quite so many choices based simply on what feels good in the moment, how I will directly benefit, or how much my pride gets stroked. I have to say that the whole epiphany yielded a sense of great relief. An understanding that I did not have to win every time, shine brighter than everyone else, or have the right answer. And you know what? When I decided to shut up and listen and observe, yield to others and confess my lack of understanding . . . guess what happened? I felt more like a winner, a student, and someone with an inner glow rather than an outer blinding light. I like me better this way.

There have been many areas of my life in which I have seen the value of trusting God’s timing rather than my own inconsistent-condensation-under-the-crystal, run-down-battery version. I started graduate school at exactly the right time. I began my wonderful dating relationship at exactly the right time. I earned time to be a little bit lazy just when I needed to learn to be still. And I woke up in the middle of the night tonight just in time to write this journal entry. Maybe you just woke up too, and you needed something to read. I don’t know.

I was thinking today about how great it would be if everyone on earth was genuinely empathetic. Then I wondered if an individual can show him or herself empathy. Is that what people mean when they tell someone to be kind to themselves? To grant themselves a little grace? I don’t know about you, but it’s always been much easier for me to empathize with someone else than with myself. What makes that happen? I’m sure my studies will lead me to the answer since I already feel like I’m developing some hypotheses on the subject.

What brought about that line of thinking today was the age-old mystery of pre-menstrual syndrome and its termite-like effects on a woman’s ability to see all that she KNOWS is great about herself. And how it feels near futile to help anyone but another woman really understand the uniqueness of it all. I mean, have any of you women reading this ever experienced some PMS moment where someone says something to you, and even though you know in your heart that they did not mean for the result to be devastating to your self-worth, you have to take a long while to convince yourself of that? Isn’t it ridiculous that you can leave your house, 100% satisfied, even proud, of everything about you, and one person can notice one flaw, and you all of a sudden can no longer access even the fond memory of all that you loved about yourself a short twenty minutes ago? It’s just stupid. Can I get a witness?

Enough of that. I know it’s fairly universal, but I guess I wonder about it more at some times than others.

Back to timing. The clock indicates that I should have been sleeping for at least four hours by now, and I have defied it. I must make another effort. I have lots of adventure coming my way in the next week.