On Sundays I like to write something more faith-related, given that I’ve recently found a new faith community and so, thankfully, I now have a place to go for worship with others on a weekly basis.
Today I’m marveling at the mystery of God’s timing. If you don’t believe in God or aren’t comfortable with using that term, what I have to say here still applies. Honestly, substitute any form that feels comfortable to you for representing a force or power that is both bigger than you as well as invisible.
If you’re not comfortable with that idea, then I wonder how or why you’ve read this far. Do you wonder, too? Are you willing to take a gamble on reading further? Perhaps you were meant to read whatever I’m about to write.
So: God’s timing. There’s this phrase that “God has perfect timing,” and although it sounds a bit cliché, I’ve found it to be true. Two other elements come together in this mix, and those are the elements of faith and trust.
When we trust, the timing is always right
As human beings, we like to feel that we have control over our environment, our choices, and the way our lives unfold. As conscious beings, it’s our creative heritage to boldly set forth and make things happen according to our plans and desires.
The thing is, we’re not really in control.
Control is an illusion that provides so many things: reassurance, security, power, predictability. But it’s always just that—an illusion. If you’ve ever been through anything difficult and/or unexpected, I’m sure you know the truth of the fact that you’re never in absolute control of what happens to you and your world.
Immediate point of fact: I thought I would have time to write just now, yet my ex-husband brought my three teenagers back two hours early from their weekend with him. So rather than unspool what I’d like to write without interruption, I now have to postpone my thoughts until later.
Noticing timing and synchronicity
So, earlier (above) as I was typing about not having control, something happened that was beyond my control. This is a simple example of synchronicity.
Carl Jung, who coined the term, called it “an acausal connecting principle.” What this means is that two things are somehow meaningfully related and connected, but one doesn’t cause the other. Put in a more formal way:
whereby internal, psychological events are linked to external world events by meaningful coincidences rather than causal chains. [source]
This is the magic and mystery of a synchronous event. In the example here, my internal, psychological musing about how control is an illusion and about how we don’t really have control over events was acausally mirrored by a simultaneous external world event in which something happened that I didn’t expect (as I was convinced I was in control of my time and would thus have the next two hours to myself), which was outside of my control.
Our time versus the Universe’s timing
Carrying this concept further, we also expect the things we want to accomplish in the world to happen when we want them to happen, on our timeline. However, anyone who has worked towards any type of goal or outcome sooner or later becomes aware that the timeline itself is also largely outside of their personal control.
A common secular example of this would be a work project that depends on a team of people. There is usually an initial timeline set out; but rarely, if ever, does everything go exactly according to plan. Although specific deadlines can oftentimes be met, the path towards them isn’t always as linear as expected.
This concept of timing is especially true when it comes to faith and spiritual matters. Prayer life is fertile ground for examples. While different types of prayer exist, supplication (petitioning) is the one I’m referring to here.
Supplication is when we approach God to ask for something. This is probably one of the most common forms of prayer, or the one that most people think of when talking about prayer.
True supplication requires great humility and vulnerability. We’re admitting that we need help, and we’re admitting that we can’t do this thing on our own. In essence, we’re actively admitting to God, the Universe, the higher powers, that we are not in control.
Therefore, we shouldn’t be surprised when our prayers aren’t answered on our personal timelines (which are generally far too short for divine time) or in the exact way we had imagined. Admitting that we need help, that we can’t accomplish this thing on our own, and that we have no control over the outcome, also means we accept whatever response comes to our prayer.
Faith and trust are the necessary ingredients
Relinquishing control—actively admitting that we aren’t in control—takes a great deal of faith and trust. We must have faith that a force larger than ourselves exists, one that we can petition for our needs when we realize we aren’t in control and we can’t do things on our own.
Faith: a strong belief based on spiritual conviction rather than proof
Trust comes when we feel confident that this higher force is capable of meeting our needs and is willing to do so. Although faith and trust are often used synonymously, this distinction is important.
Trust: firm belief in the reliability, truth, or ability of someone or something
Each function feeds the growth of the other, in an infinite loop. When I’m building my faith and I see tangible examples or outcomes that reinforce my spiritual conviction, I am simultaneously building trust. Conversely, when my trust increases, my faith also increases.
We don’t choose the ways, the means, or the times
When we pray and petition God for our wants and needs, we are practicing an act of consciously letting go. The pithy phrase “let go and let God” might sound trite, but it encapsulates an important spiritual truth. We can’t petition God in prayer and then try to micromanage the result. By its very definition, this type of prayer is about surrendering to a higher power and allowing that power to work.
It’s not entirely passive, because we are called to respond when we are given provisions, signs, and spiritual nudges. We need to stay aware and active in order to co-create with God. However, it’s important that we completely let go of any notions or expectations of the ways and means that will carry us to where we wish to go (or rather, where God wishes us to go), and also let go of any expectations about when it might happen. It might happen all at once; it might never happen at all. We’re not in control. But the process itself is where we build our faith and trust.
My practical example
Over the past year or perhaps even two years, I’d been having a bit of a crisis of faith (which I explained in this post). I had largely stopped attending Mass and stopped my formal liturgical and contemplative prayer practice (Secular Discalced Carmelites are called by the Rule of Saint Albert to pray lauds and vespers daily, as well as spend at least a half hour each day in Teresian contemplative prayer). Despite this, I never ceased personal prayer throughout my days. These were personal prayers of thanksgiving, intercession, adoration, and confession, but probably mostly supplication.
I never ceased petitioning God to put me where He wanted me. I petitioned the Holy Trinity to lead me to a faith community that was inclusive and could benefit from the gifts of service I wished to offer. I petitioned to find a spiritual director. I went for broke and told God everything I wanted in my idea of a welcoming community. I had faith and trust (sometimes wavering, but always present even when just a faint flicker of light). But it often felt, especially after many months, as if nothing was moving, as if nothing was happening.
That’s because we forget that things are happening even when we can’t see them.
When I finally attended the new church community I’d been eyeing for months and months, it felt like the right fit at the right time. It felt like I had come home. When I went back the second week and attended a scripture group prior to the service, it was tangible proof of God at work. There were far, far too many synchronicities to mention.
In the end, in this particular case God took a couple of years, but eventually when the time was right, I could feel it. Building faith is, among many things, a matter of actively attending to God’s presence in your life. It’s the ultimate paradox: you have to open your heart and all of your senses to signs of tangible proof, without requiring it.
Start experimenting with this practice of letting go and see where it leads you. You’ll probably end up somewhere different than you expected. And if you approach the practice with as much faith and trust as you can muster, you’ll definitely end up exactly where you belong. ❤️