The Gentle Nudge

The Gentle Nudge

There comes a point in life when you realize you’ve been moving, but not necessarily living.

For me, that awareness hit quietly—not with fireworks or a breakdown, but with a simple question I couldn’t answer: What do I even want for my life?

That question surfaced one night around a campfire and sparked a slow, sacred unraveling. Since then, I’ve been on a journey of remembering who I am—beneath the roles, responsibilities, and expectations. What follows is a piece of that unfolding.

There were signs early on—whispers, nudges, little flickers of discomfort or a deep intuitive knowing—but I didn’t yet have the awareness to catch them. Life was too loud. I was too busy doing, fixing, proving, pleasing. And the voice within? I’d forgotten how to listen to her.

But God doesn’t give up on us.

The nudges never stopped.

Back then, I called them coincidences.

Now I see them as sacred invitations.

Over time—through quiet moments of stillness, unexpected encounters, and even physical symptoms like fatigue that I once brushed off—I’ve learned to tune in instead of push through.

To pause.

To pray.

To go within.

To sit with the discomfort and ask, What is this here to teach me?

I’ve stopped waiting for the shout.

Now, I honor the whisper.

These days, I notice the signs everywhere.

The waiter named Malachi at dinner this week—whose name literally means “my messenger” or “my angel.” A God wink, as I now call it.

The morning stillness that feels like a hug.

The flicker in my chest when I know something’s true before I can explain it—I just know.

That’s not just intuition—it’s God’s hand on my shoulder.

It’s remembrance.

It’s trust.

This is what it means to live awake.

To return home to who you were always meant to be.

To choose presence over performance.

To listen.

To honor.

To respond, not react.

In a world that shouts, be the voice that calms the storm.

And it all begins with one gentle nudge.