Learning to Arrive Early to What I’m Praying For

I was talking to my therapist the other day about something that has followed me most of my life.

I’m always late.

Not dramatically late. Not disrespectfully late.
Just… cutting it close. Sliding in. Catching my breath. Living on the edge of “almost.”

As we talked about it, she shared something her First Lady at church once said:

“It’s okay to be early.”

That sentence landed heavier than I expected.

A quiet morning, making room for what’s coming.

Because the truth is, I don’t operate like someone who believes she can arrive early to where she’s praying God will take her.

I move like I’m afraid I’ll miss it.
Like the door might close if I slow down.
Like grace only exists right on time, never ahead of it.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. 

Yet somehow, we’ve turned time into something we chase.

We want more of it.
We want to manage it.
We want to own it.

But time doesn’t belong to us.

Time is like sand.

You can enjoy it, but you can’t hold it in your hand.

At the beach, you don’t panic because the sand might disappear. You sit in it. You walk through it. You let it slip through your fingers without trying to control it. You build sandcastles knowing full well they won’t last forever.

And somehow, that doesn’t make the experience less meaningful.

You don’t try to pack the sandcastle up and take it home.
You don’t grieve its end while it’s still standing.
You enjoy it! Fully aware that its purpose is temporary.

That realization shifted something in me.

What if I don’t need to rush into the next season?
What if I don’t need to arrive breathless to what God already timed perfectly?

What if preparation isn’t arrogance, but trust?

I Trust that what’s meant for me won’t miss me.
I Trust that I don’t have to chase what’s already scheduled.
I Trust that God isn’t counting my minutes the way I am.

Lately, I’ve realized that my rushing isn’t really about time.

It’s about fear.

Waiting exposes what we’re afraid to name.
Stillness leaves room for doubt to speak.
Preparation asks us to sit with ourselves before the next thing begins.

I just heard this, this week, and I’m realizing how much my life doesn’t yet reflect it.

However, I am now preparing myself for what I’m praying for.

Making room for rest.
Making room for stillness.
Living like I believe what’s been appointed doesn’t need my rushing to arrive.

I’m learning that time isn’t something I can grab tighter, it’s something I’m meant to walk through gently.

And maybe the lesson isn’t about punctuality at all.

Maybe it’s about peace.

Where in your life are you rushing instead of trusting the timing?