Tag: Divine Timing

  • Surrendering the Plan: Learning to Trust God in Real Time

    Surrendering the Plan: Learning to Trust God in Real Time

    Let me be honest—

    I love a good plan. A five-step strategy. A mapped-out vision with bullet points and backup routes.

    I love knowing what’s coming.

    It makes me feel safe.

    But lately?

    God hasn’t been giving me a plan.

    He’s been giving me moments.

    Moments that stretch me, quiet me, reroute me, and ask me to trust without clarity.

    And trusting God in real time?

    It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn.

    Real-time trust doesn’t come with a roadmap.

    It comes with a whisper: “Are you willing to move before it all makes sense?

    It comes with blank pages, canceled plans, and doors you thought were yours slamming shut.

    It comes with you looking around, asking:

    God, I thought I was ready. Why does this feel like falling apart instead of falling into place?

    But what I’m learning is this:

    Trust isn’t built when everything is going right. It’s built in the silence between what you prayed for and what hasn’t shown up yet.

    I had to learn that surrender doesn’t mean giving up—it means letting go of my way.

    Letting go of the fantasy timeline.

    Letting go of the need to control the outcome.

    Letting go of my obsession with being “prepared enough.”

    Because sometimes, God doesn’t want your preparation—He wants your presence.

    He wants your obedience in the uncertainty.

    He wants your yes even when you’re trembling.

    Here’s what learning to trust God in real time has looked like for me:

    Saying yes to opportunities I didn’t feel fully ready for

    Leaving spaces I prayed to enter, because I no longer belonged there

    Pausing projects that used to bring me life, because they were now draining me

    Listening more, striving less

    Being okay with not being “on fire” but still being faithful

    I’ve had to stop asking for a five-year vision and start asking for today’s instructions.

    If you’re in this space—where nothing looks clear but you know you’re being called to trust—try this:

    1. Start your day with surrender.

    Before the to-do list. Before the scroll.

    Say: “God, interrupt my plan if You need to. I trust You more than I trust my own control.

    2. Accept that clarity often comes in hindsight.

    Don’t wait for the whole staircase—just take the next step you do see.

    3. Stop needing to “feel ready.”

    Obedience won’t always feel comfortable.

    Move anyway. Speak anyway. Begin anyway.

    4. Pay attention to peace.

    God’s plan often sounds like stillness, not pressure.

    If the plan is stressing your soul, it might be time to let it go.

    You don’t need to figure everything out. You just need to stay open.

    Let this be your reminder:

    You’re not falling behind when the plan shifts—you’re being aligned in real time.

    What feels like delay might actually be divine protection.

    What feels like loss might actually be redirection.

    And what looks like confusion might actually be the start of your clearest season yet.

    If you’re learning to walk with God moment by moment,

    If you’re trying to surrender the plan without collapsing in fear,

    If you’re trusting without the full picture—

    You’re doing sacred work.

    You’re walking by faith.

    And that… is more than enough.

  • Dear Former Me- Friendship Grief

    Dear Former Me- Friendship Grief

    Dear Former Me,

    You didn’t imagine it.

    That connection was real.

    And even if it was just a friendship—just someone who saw you and showed up—it still mattered. It still hurts.

    You didn’t expect to miss them this much, did you?

    It wasn’t about romance. It never had to be.

    It was about the way you laughed without trying.

    How they showed up to Poetry Night with you, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    How you could sit next to them in silence and still feel like you were being held.

    Not with hands.

    With presence.

    With that steady, quiet way they had of being around you that made you feel like you didn’t have to prove anything to be valued.

    You didn’t lose a partner.

    You lost your person.

    Or at least, someone who felt like one—for a season.

    You thought, maybe for once, the story didn’t need a plot twist.

    Maybe this one would stay simple. Kind. Consistent.

    Maybe this was a friendship you could keep.

    But then it changed.

    Not all at once, but enough that you noticed.

    The way the replies got slower.

    The way the warmth dimmed.

    The way you were left wondering if you said too much, or not enough.

    You’re sitting here now, retracing it all, trying to find the moment the air shifted.

    But maybe there isn’t one.

    Maybe some friendships don’t end loudly—they just… evaporate.

    And that’s its own kind of grief.

    You keep saying it was “just” a friendship.

    But the way you felt after? That silence didn’t feel small.

    You felt it in your body.

    In your stomach.

    In the space where laughter used to echo.

    You didn’t ask for anything more than what you gave.

    And still, it feels like too much was left unsaid.

    Like no one warned you that missing a friend could ache like this.

    But here’s what I want you to remember:

    It’s not embarrassing to miss someone who made you feel safe.

    It’s not dramatic to mourn what felt like home.

    You are allowed to miss the version of yourself that felt held in that friendship.

    And it’s okay to still wish things were different.

    But don’t let this loss make you smaller.

    Don’t start holding back your care, your presence, your softness.

    The world needs more people who show up the way you did.

    They knew you.

    Even if they forgot how rare that was.

    And if nothing else—you’ll remember.

    You’ll remember what it felt like to be met in your fullness.

    And that memory will shape how you let the next person in.

    With grace,

    Evelyn

  • You’re Not Behind, You’re in Bloom

    You’re Not Behind, You’re in Bloom

    Let’s get one thing clear—you’re not late.

    Not to your purpose. Not to your healing. Not to your becoming.

    You’re just blooming on your own divine timeline.

    But I know what it feels like when the world moves fast and you feel slow.

    When everyone else seems to be “figuring it out” while you’re still trying to feel okay.

    You start comparing your path to theirs.

    You start shrinking your dreams to fit someone else’s pace.

    But here’s the truth:

    Flowers don’t rush their bloom just because the one next to them opened first.

    I used to think I missed my moment.

    That I should’ve started earlier.

    That I should’ve known better.

    That I should’ve already “arrived.”

    But now I know—the delay wasn’t denial, it was design.

    Because if I would’ve bloomed earlier, I wouldn’t have been rooted enough to hold what I was asking for.

    And I want to say that again, for the version of you who’s been doubting herself:

    You are not behind. You are getting ready to bloom in a way that doesn’t just look beautiful—but lasts.

    Here’s what blooming in divine timing looks like:

    1. It’s slower than you expected.

    Because it’s not just about visibility—it’s about integrity.

    You’re not here to bloom for applause. You’re here to bloom for alignment.

    2. It’s deeper than you planned.

    Because you’re not just changing your habits, you’re healing your roots.

    And real healing doesn’t come with a timestamp.

    3. It’s softer than hustle.

    Because this version of you isn’t built on force.

    She’s built on trust. On wisdom. On knowing when to water herself and when to rest.

    Try this gentle blooming ritual:

    Close your eyes and visualize yourself as a flower.

    What season are you in?

    Seed, sprout, stem, bud, blossom? Each stage is valid. Each stage is sacred.

    Repeat this affirmation out loud:I release the need to rush. I trust the pace of my becoming. I am not behind—I am blooming in divine time.

    Write a “late bloomer” love letter to yourself.

    Speak to the part of you that feels rushed.

    Tell her she’s not too late.

    Tell her she’s growing strong.

    Tell her she’s right on time.

    The world will try to convince you that you should be further along.

    But what they don’t know is:

    You are building something rooted.

    You are growing in depth before height.

    You are shedding layers so the real you can shine.

    So please don’t measure your bloom by someone else’s timeline.

    Your timeline is sacred.

    Your growth is real.

    And your bloom is coming.

  • This Isn’t Stuck, This is Preparation

    This Isn’t Stuck, This is Preparation

    There’s a moment when the noise dies down.

    The texts slow.

    The plans don’t go through.

    The vision board starts to blur.

    And even though you’re still showing up, still breathing, still doing what you can… it feels like nothing is moving.

    You start wondering if you’re missing something.

    If you lost your touch.

    If God stopped listening.

    But what if… you’re not stuck?

    What if this is holy ground, and you’re standing at the edge of a becoming too sacred to rush?

    Because here’s what nobody tells you:

    Preparation feels like stillness.

    It feels like quiet days, unseen work, plans that don’t stick, and prayers that echo back with silence.

    It feels like pulling weeds with no sign of blooms.

    And it will feel like stuck—until you realize you’re actually being softened for what’s next.

    I know that space.

    I’ve cried in it. Fought it. Tried to outwork it.

    I’ve sat in rooms where I once felt powerful and wondered why I suddenly felt invisible.

    I’ve looked at other people’s progress and questioned if I took too many detours.

    But eventually I realized:

    Every delay was disguised direction. Every pause was a prayer being answered quietly.

    Because real power?

    It doesn’t always enter loud.

    Sometimes it tiptoes in while you’re wiping your eyes and learning how to be gentle with yourself again.

    Let’s talk about what preparation really looks like:

    It’s the days when nothing makes sense but your intuition won’t let you quit.

    It’s the version of you that doesn’t feel “on,” but somehow still chooses to show up.

    It’s the space between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming—and the ache of no longer fitting into either.

    You’re not being punished.

    You’re being positioned.

    But you’ve gotta stop calling it stuck.

    Because stuck implies lifelessness.

    And sis, you are anything but lifeless.

    You are actively being re-rooted.

    Refined.

    Redirected.

    Even if it doesn’t look like movement, you are becoming.

    Here’s how to hold yourself when it feels like nothing’s happening:

    1. Stop measuring your momentum by what’s visible.

    Growth doesn’t always leave proof. Sometimes the roots are strengthening before the bloom.

    2. Ask: “What is this preparing me for?” instead of “Why is this happening?”

    Shift the narrative. You’re not being blocked, you’re being built.

    3. Create a “preparation altar.”

    Write down what you’re calling in. Add something symbolic—an old photo, a letter, a verse.

    Place it somewhere you’ll see every day. Let it remind you that the pause is sacred.

    4. Breathe. Really breathe.

    When you start to spiral, come back to your body.

    Place your hand on your heart and say: I trust this pause is protecting and preparing me.

    5. Let this version of you be enough.

    Not the “glowed up” one. Not the “ready” one.

    The one that’s in-between. The one learning how to hold faith without a finish line.

    If this season is quiet… you’re not broken. You’re being spoken to differently.

    So maybe it’s not time to force a breakthrough.

    Maybe it’s time to receive what only silence can offer.

    You don’t need to have all the answers.

    You don’t need to be on fire to be walking in purpose.

    And you don’t need to rush something that’s already yours.

    This isn’t stuck.

    This is where your wings are being stretched.

    This is where your prayers are gaining roots.

    This is where power is being woven into your stillness.

    This… is preparation.

  • You Can’t Lose What’s Meant for You

    You Can’t Lose What’s Meant for You

    Let’s get one thing straight: What’s meant for you will never pass you by.

    Not the opportunity.

    Not the relationship.

    Not the success.

    But here’s where many women get stuck—holding onto what isn’t meant for them out of fear that nothing better will come.

    You know that feeling. That hesitation. That internal struggle when you know deep down something isn’t right, but you keep convincing yourself to stay. You tell yourself maybe if you wait a little longer, try a little harder, or compromise just a little more, things will work out.

    But let’s be real: If something requires you to shrink, beg, or suffer just to keep it, was it ever really yours?

    Why Holding On Keeps You Stuck

    Many people think losing something means failure. That if a job didn’t work out, if a relationship ended, or if a door closed, they must have done something wrong.

    But real loss? Is staying in spaces you’ve outgrown.

    The more you cling to what isn’t for you, the more you block what is. The more you entertain half-hearted love, inconsistent energy, and draining situations, the less space you leave for what actually aligns with you.

    So ask yourself:

    Are you holding on because you truly want it, or because you’re afraid to let go?

    Is it feeding your soul or feeding your fears?

    Because the truth is:

    If it’s meant for you, it won’t require begging.

    If it’s aligned, it will feel like peace, not anxiety.

    If it’s real, it won’t make you question your worth.

    Trust the Shift: What’s Yours Will Find You

    The universe doesn’t operate on desperation—it operates on alignment. When you trust that what’s meant for you will come, you stop forcing what isn’t.

    This means:

    Walking away when you feel unappreciated, instead of waiting for someone to finally see your value.

    Releasing relationships that no longer serve you, instead of clinging to history.

    Trusting that rejection is redirection, instead of taking it as a personal failure.

    Let go. Trust the shift. Walk in faith.

    Because when you finally stop fearing loss, you’ll realize you never had to chase what was already yours.

  • How to Cultivate Soft Power in a Hard World

    How to Cultivate Soft Power in a Hard World

    Because Strength Doesn’t Have to Be Loud

    In a world that often celebrates loudness and dominance, embracing soft power can feel counterintuitive. But it’s precisely this quieter, more intentional strength that has the power to inspire, influence, and transform lives.

    Soft power isn’t about being passive. It’s about moving with grace, setting boundaries with confidence, and trusting your presence is enough. In this post, I’ll share practical ways to cultivate soft power so you can navigate life with quiet strength and unshakable self-worth.

    1️⃣ Understand the Essence of Soft Power

    Soft power isn’t about shrinking or staying silent. It’s about choosing your energy wisely and being intentional with your words, actions, and presence.

    Think of soft power as the ability to influence and inspire without force. It’s rooted in self-trust, emotional intelligence, and the knowledge that true strength doesn’t have to demand attention—it naturally commands it.

    2️⃣ Master the Art of Stillness

    In a noisy world, stillness is a superpower. Instead of reacting to every situation, cultivate the habit of pausing, observing, and responding with intention.

    Why It Matters: Stillness allows you to process your emotions and think clearly before taking action.

    How to Practice: The next time you’re faced with a stressful situation, take a deep breath, pause, and ask yourself: “What outcome aligns with my values?”

    3️⃣ Speak Less, Mean More

    One of the hallmarks of soft power is the ability to communicate effectively without saying too much.

    Why It Matters: Words carry weight when they’re used intentionally.

    How to Practice: Before speaking, ask yourself: “Is this true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” This approach ensures your words are purposeful and impactful.

    4️⃣ Set Boundaries with Grace

    Soft power doesn’t mean being a pushover. It means knowing your worth and being confident in protecting your peace.

    Why It Matters: Boundaries create space for respect and mutual understanding.

    How to Practice: Use phrases like:

    • “I appreciate you asking, but I need to focus on myself right now.”

    • “This doesn’t align with what’s best for me, but thank you for thinking of me.”

    5️⃣ Trust in Divine Timing

    Soft power is deeply rooted in faith—faith in yourself, your intuition, and the timing of life.

    Why It Matters: When you trust that what’s meant for you will come, you stop chasing and start attracting.

    How to Practice: Shift your mindset from scarcity (“I have to act now or I’ll miss my chance”) to abundance (“What’s meant for me won’t pass me by”).

    6️⃣ Embody Confidence, Not Force

    Confidence is magnetic when it’s quiet and secure. Soft power allows you to exude self-assurance without forcing it.

    Why It Matters: Confidence rooted in self-worth doesn’t need external validation.

    How to Practice: Focus on how you feel, not how you’re perceived. Affirm to yourself: “I am enough as I am.”

    Final Reflection

    Cultivating soft power is about showing up for yourself in a way that feels authentic, grounded, and aligned with your values. It’s about trusting your presence, energy, and ability to navigate life with grace and intention.

    So, here’s my challenge for you:

    💬 What’s one way you can start embracing soft power in your life today?

    Let me know your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear your story.