Let me tell y’all about a moment I had once with a colleague — no names, no timestamps, no tea spilled (okay, maybe a little), but just know this person had a reputation for being… let’s say, a lot. 🙃
I mean, we’re talking about someone who made everything feel like a power struggle — constantly dominating conversations, lacking self-awareness, always needing the last word. The kind of personality that low-key makes you want to walk into meetings wearing spiritual armor.
One day, we got into it — and over what?
Not workload.
Not deadlines.
Not performance.
Words.
Yup. One little word.
I had said something, and this colleague repeated it back — but changed one single word, which totally flipped the meaning. So I calmly pointed it out like,
“Hey, just so we’re clear, that’s not exactly what I said — the word you swapped changes the tone.”
And y’all, this person snapped.
Full eye-roll, loud voice, the whole performance:
“Ugh! Words don’t matter! You know what I meant!!”
And in my head I’m like:
“Clearly… they do matter. Otherwise we wouldn’t be in this very weird moment right now.”
That whole exchange got me thinking about how often we downplay the power of words — especially in everyday life. But lately? God has been showing me how much words matter in prayer.
I was born and raised in a deeply reverent home. Christ was at the center. Prayer was sacred. Grace was honored. And I’m grateful for that foundation — truly. But what I wasn’t taught… was that it’s okay to come to God with my needs.
Sure, I prayed for clarity throughout my life — in jobs, relationships, decisions. But when I think about the language I used, it was always:
“God, give me clarity.”
It was never:
“God, I need clarity.”
That small shift in words? Total game changer.
I’ve been thinking lately about how, even as an adult, when I would say I needed to pray for something, my dad would always respond:
“You should be thankful for what you have. Live in a constant state of gratitude for His grace.”
And while there’s beauty in that response, and truth in staying rooted in gratitude, it quietly taught me that maybe I shouldn’t ask God for help unless it was a crisis. That my day-to-day emotional and spiritual needs were… small. Petty. Inconvenient.
But Here’s What I Know Now:
Changing “God, give me clarity” to “God, I need clarity” is more than a language tweak.
It’s a spiritual shift.
“Give me” is a request.
“I need” is surrender.
“Give me” keeps some control.
“I need” says, I can’t do this without You.
It’s the difference between treating God like a resource and treating Him like your refuge.
At 44 years old, I’m just now learning how to truly surrender.
To stop filtering my prayers through what I think sounds “holy” and instead speak to God honestly. As a daughter. As a friend. As someone who is growing, struggling, and learning in real time.
These little moments — this clarity in motion — they remind me I’m getting closer to truly seeing His bigger picture for my life.
I’m not perfect, but I’m present.
And for now, that’s more than enough. 💛
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