Issue 033: This One Is Personal

Every time I tap into Saved in the City’s Monday morning prayer call, it feels like God gently taps me back. I’m not on every week, but the weeks I do make it? The message always feels suspiciously tailored… like He slid a note across the table and whispered, “This one’s for you.”

Today was one of those mornings.

If you read October’s post, Learning to Expect Good Again, you already know I’ve been trying to rebuild this muscle of expectation. And I wish I could say I’ve been doing a great job — but honestly? I believe in miracles far more easily when they’re happening for other people. Me, though? I shrink. I hesitate. I disqualify myself before God even gets the chance to show up.

Which is wild, because the things I’m praying for aren’t selfish at all.

And somewhere around mid-Summer, without even noticing, I kind of… checked out. Not dramatically. Not with a big faith crisis. More like a quiet surrender: “Lord, just please don’t let things get worse.”I benched myself for the rest of the year and stopped expecting anything good to happen.

But this morning’s prayer call? It stirred something that had been asleep in me.

Brittany opened with that scripture and declared — confidently, boldly — that the end of this year will be better than how it started.

And immediately, I felt my heart unclench a little.

Somewhere between migraines, layoffs, shifts and pivots, spiritual fatigue, and me trying to be “the strong one” for everybody in my orbit… the end of the year wasn’t even something I was hoping in anymore. I wasn’t expecting anything. I was just enduring.

But hearing that verse reminded me:I stopped expecting better because I stopped believing better was possible.

And that realization sat with me for a minute.

One thing she said cut straight through me:

Whew.

Because I am the reliable one. The helper. The intercessor. The “I got it” and “I got you” person. I don’t mind being that — it’s woven into my calling. But sometimes being the strong one becomes so normal you forget that you’re allowed to have needs too. You forget that you’re not God… just His daughter.

And if I’m honest, I’ve had some quiet, internal “But what about me, God?” moments this year.

Just like Elijah in 1 Kings 19.

Elijah — miracle-working, fire-calling, rain-stopping Elijah — reached a point where he was poured out and exhausted. He did everything God asked and still ended up asking, “Where are You in my life?”

If he could feel that… maybe I’m not as “off” as I sometimes convince myself I am.

Brittany reminded us that God didn’t show up in the loud, dramatic ways — no wind, no earthquake, no fire.

He showed up in a whisper.

A whisper requires closeness.A whisper requires stillness.A whisper requires a slowed-down heart.

And I think that’s where I’ve been missing Him.

I’ve been waiting for the cinematic breakthrough — the kind that makes everything obvious and undeniable. But the things I’m believing God for require something quieter from me first:

Stillness. Presence. Listening.

Because the truth is, I don’t need another project.I don’t need a productivity sprint.I don’t need to rework my whole life overnight.

I need God… personally. Intimately. Quietly.

One of the declarations for December felt like God was tapping the exact pressure points I’ve been carrying:

A fresh encounter.A reminder that He hasn’t forgotten me.

A stillness that doesn’t match my circumstances.The kind that wraps around your shoulders before you realize you needed it.

Not the grind-till-you-break kind.Not the hustle-your-way-into-a-blessing kind.Provision that comes from rest. From trust. From God’s timing, not my urgency.

And then she said this line that sat in my chest long after the call ended:

It made me realize how much I’ve been carrying alone — not because I wanted to, but because I’ve always felt like I had to. I’ve always felt like resilience was the only option. I’ve always assumed I had to muscle through things God never asked me to carry by myself. Really…BECUASE OF PRIDE AND SHAME.

But divine help looks like relief.It looks like breath.It looks like God whispering, “You don’t have to be the strong one all the time.”

And when Brittany said:

I threw my hands up.

Because this year held so many moments where I prayed and saw nothing change.Moments where I obeyed and saw no fruit.Moments where I showed up tired, discouraged, sick, foggy, uncertain… and it felt like it didn’t matter.

But the spiritual realm doesn’t send shipping notifications.You don’t always get proof of what your obedience shifted.

Sometimes heaven moves quietly.

And hearing that reminded me:My faith wasn’t wasted.My prayers weren’t pointless.My obedience wasn’t for nothing.

God saw.God counted.God will honor it.

I don’t want to drag hopelessness into the last month of the year.I don’t want to save all my hope for January.I don’t want disappointment making decisions for me.

So here’s what I’m choosing — gently, intentionally:

Not recklessly.Not blindly.But biblically.

Listening for the whisper instead of waiting for the earthquake.

I’m done carrying everything alone.I’m done forcing what God wants to give freely.

Not just “God can.”But “God will… for me.”

In confidence.In rest.In clarity.In purpose.

I’m walking into December with quiet expectation — the kind that breathes instead of strains.The kind that trusts instead of fears.The kind that opens its hands instead of forcing outcomes.

Just believing.

This one is personal.And I’m finally choosing to believe that includes me.

All Is Well— Ashlee Nicole

I Should Be Smarter By Now by Issa Rae