The Four Words I Didn’t Know I Needed to Hear

A few days ago, during my morning meditation, I asked God the same question I ask almost every day.

"Is there a message for me today?"

Sometimes there is. Sometimes there is not. I do not mind either way. Love does not have to speak in words to be present.

But that morning, the answer came immediately.

"Take Me with you."

Just four words.

Simple.

Tender.

Completely unexpected.

At first, I was not even sure what they meant. After all, how could I take God with me? Is God not already everywhere?

The more I sat with those words, the more I understood what had actually happened.

I had forgotten.

Not forgotten that God exists. I had not lost my faith. I had not stopped praying. I had not wandered away.

I had simply become so absorbed in living my life that I stopped consciously sharing it with God.

I came home from a week away with a sinus infection trailing behind me. Emails to answer. Clients to see. Videos to record. Laundry waiting in piles. All the small, insistent tasks that fill a life without asking permission.

Nothing had gone wrong. I had just quietly slipped into doing mode and left the divine companionship somewhere behind me without noticing.

When Awareness Drifts

I think most of us know this feeling - even if we have never put a name to it.

Our hearts are still turned toward something holy.

We still believe.

We still love.

But our awareness drifts. And without realizing it, we begin moving through the day as though we are carrying all of it ourselves. As though the weight is ours alone to manage.

When I heard those four words, I did not feel corrected.

I felt invited.

There was no shame in it. No disappointment radiating from the other side. Just a clear, quiet reminder from something that knows me - and loves me anyway.

"Take Me with you."

That is not a rebuke. That is a relationship.

Bringing God Into the Ordinary

So I did.

As I answered emails.

"Come with me."

As I met with clients.

"Come with me."

As I uploaded another YouTube video.

"Come with me."

As I sat on my porch in the early quiet.

"Come with me."

As I climbed into the shower, tired and relieved to be home.

"Come with me."

Nothing about my schedule changed. The ordinary moments did not suddenly become extraordinary.

What changed was my awareness.

I stopped moving through my day as though I were alone. Because I was not. I never had been.

Returning Again and Again

For a long time, I believed a mature spiritual life meant staying connected. Maintaining the thread. Never losing the signal.

I have let that idea go.

What I know now - and what I have had to learn more than once - is that the spiritual life is not about maintaining a perfect state of awareness. It is about returning.

Returning when I notice I have wandered into believing I am doing this alone.

Returning when a part of me has grabbed the wheel and started managing everything by herself.

Returning when I am tired. Grieving. Undone. Or simply trying to make it through an ordinary Tuesday.

Some of the most sacred moments I have known in my relationship with the Divine have not happened when I felt especially enlightened. They have happened when I was depleted - when I brought my actual self back into conscious contact with Love.

Not my spiritual self.

My actual self.

The invitation has never been "Come back when you have yourself together."

The invitation has always been "Take Me with you."

Wherever you happen to be right now.

You Were Never Walking Alone

Maybe that is into a difficult conversation.

Maybe it is a doctor's office.

Maybe it is the particular exhaustion of caring for someone you love.

Maybe it is a car, a parking lot, a moment of needing to gather yourself before walking through a door.

Maybe it is dishes. Laundry. Another email.

The Divine does not wait for us in extraordinary moments.

The Divine walks with us through ordinary ones.

This past week, as I moved through the ordinariness of returning home - tired, a little sick, glad to be back - I realized something.

The holiest thing I did all week was not a meditation. It was not anything profound I said to another person. It was not the work I love so deeply.

The holiest thing I did was remember.

Remember that Love was already walking with me.

Remember that I did not have to earn that companionship.

Remember that I have never - not even once - walked alone.

So wherever this day finds you, maybe you do not need better prayers. Maybe you do not need more discipline. Maybe you do not need to become more spiritual.

Maybe you just need to remember.

And then take the Divine with you.

As I reflected on those four words over the next few days, I realized they describe the very practice I teach every week.

First, I noticed that I had slipped into carrying life by myself.

Then I named what was happening without shaming myself for it.

And finally, I returned to relationship. I nurtured the part of me that believed she had to do it all alone by inviting the Divine back into my awareness.

I smiled when I realized it.

Without intending to, I had lived Notice. Name. Nurture.

If you’ve been carrying life by yourself for longer than you realized…

If you’re longing to return to that quiet awareness that you were never meant to do this alone…

I’d love to welcome you into Notice. Name. Nurture.

Every week, we practice coming home to ourselves and to the Love that has been waiting for us all along.

You can find out more here: https://stan.store/BTTIM/p/notice-name-nurture-july-2026