✨ The Divine Timing of Gifts

This past weekend, I experienced the kind of divine timing that can only be orchestrated by something larger than ourselves.

My husband and I had a difficult moment. It hurt. It ached. It pulled at old threads and left me tender. I felt raw, but I also felt open — open enough to trust that sometimes, right on the heels of ache, grace arrives.

Then my phone buzzed. A friend texted out of the blue:

“Hey, I know this is random — we have two orchestra tickets to Jon Batiste tonight at 8 that can’t be used. Can you go?”

Random, she called it. But I knew better.

In that moment, I felt the universe whisper: “Here. This is for you.”

I said yes immediately, because music has always been medicine for me. And that night, it was exactly what my soul needed.

Jon Batiste’s ethos is one of love, resilience, unity, and joy. His music doesn’t deny pain — it transforms it. It carries grief and wonder in the same breath, reminding us that life is still beautiful, even when it stretches us.

When he sang “What a Wonderful World,” I cried. That song has lived in my bones for years. It was the song I chose to honor my mother at her celebration of life. Hearing it now felt like she was sitting beside me, reminding me once more that wonder is always here, even when life breaks us open. Gratitude welled up through the ache, shifting my frequency, softening the edges of my pain.

And when he sang “Lean On My Love,” I felt held. The lyrics wrapped around me like balm, whispering that love is both the ground beneath us and the hand we can reach for in the dark.

I left the concert changed. The difficult moment I had carried into the day wasn’t erased — but it was transformed. What felt like fracture became initiation.

✨ This is what I know now: The challenges we face are not proof that we’re off course. They are the doorways through which grace arrives.

If we can stay open, if we can feel the ache without closing, the gift will always come. Maybe as music. Maybe as an unexpected invitation. Maybe as beauty in the smallest of places.

This is the frequency of gratitude: not a surface “thank you,” but a shift in the soul — a remembering that every moment, even the difficult ones, is preparing us to receive.

So if you find yourself hurting right now, I invite you to ask: What gift might be hidden here, waiting to arrive?

Because when it does, it will meet you exactly where your soul needs it most.

Listen:

Lean on my love

What a wonderful world