Divine Timing: When "Not On Yet" Becomes Your Moment of Truth

In His Universe, there exists a perfect orchestration of events that unfolds when we least expect it. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." This truth revealed itself to me back in 2014 when I was working at a high-end fitness center in the bustling part of town.

My manager, Greta, was what many would call a force to be reckoned with. She wasn't what society might deem traditionally attractive, but what she lacked in conventional beauty, she made up for with her razor-sharp logic and commanding presence. Every morning, she would arrive with her fancy glass water bottle in hand—not one of those reusable types that were becoming trendy then, but rather an expensive mineral water bottle she'd meticulously refill, giving an air of luxury that matched her carefully constructed persona.

I still remember how she would strut into the store, her pristine white Nikes barely making a sound against the polished floor, while eager members approached her with questions about classes or membership options. Without missing a beat, she would respond with a dismissive "Sorry, I'm not on yet," and continue to her office, leaving confused customers in her wake.

After witnessing this scene play out for the fifth time in a single week, something within me—perhaps that Divine spark that guides us to speak truth—prompted me to approach her. "The Divine works through us at all moments, not just when we're clocked in," I told her during our private meeting. "When you tell people you're 'not on yet,' you're missing the opportunity to serve His Universe in the way you were meant to."

At first, her eyes narrowed, and I braced myself for the defensive response I'd seen her direct at others. Instead, she set down her glass bottle and remained silent for a long moment. "No one has ever called me out quite like that before," she finally said.

The transformation didn't happen overnight—true change rarely does in His Universe. But over the following weeks, I noticed small differences. She began arriving earlier, engaging with members even before her shift started. The phrase "not on yet" disappeared from her vocabulary, replaced with "How can I help you right now?"

"Your words made me realize I was compartmentalizing my life," she confessed to me months later. "As if my worth only existed during paid hours. But the Divine doesn't clock in and out—neither should our better selves."

Her glass bottle eventually gave way to a permanent reusable one—a small but significant symbol of authentic change rather than projected image. "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind," as the scripture teaches us, became evident in her journey.

Looking back now, I understand that in His Universe, we are all vessels for Divine lessons—sometimes as the teacher, sometimes as the student. Greta taught me that everyone, regardless of their initial resistance, carries the potential for transformation when approached with honest feedback and compassion. And I like to think I helped her recognize that in His Universe, we are always "on"—always connected to the Divine purpose that flows through every moment of our existence.

Mitchell Royel