“Push me, God. I want the life we talked about.”

Sneakers & Stilettos™

There’s a quiet kind of prayer that doesn’t sound holy at all.

It doesn’t come wrapped in perfect words or whispered on bended knees. It doesn’t wait for the right moment or the right mood. It shows up in the middle of messy days, half-finished dreams, and tired hearts.

It sounds like this:

“Push me, God. I want the life we talked about.”

I’ve been thinking about that kind of prayer a lot lately.

Not the polished kind—the real kind. The kind you say when you’re standing in between who you’ve been and who you’re meant to become. When you can feel there’s more for you, but you’re not quite brave enough to reach for it without a little divine shove.

Because let’s be honest—sometimes we don’t need comfort.

Sometimes we need momentum.

We all have those versions of our lives we’ve quietly dreamed about. The ones we don’t always say out loud because saying them makes them real… and reality demands action.

The life where we stop settling.

The life where we choose ourselves without apology.

The life where we walk boldly—whether in sneakers or stilettos—owning every step.

But dreaming is the easy part.

It’s the becoming that stretches us.

There are days I feel like I’m standing still, even when I’m doing everything I can. Days where fear dresses itself up as logic and tells me, “Not yet. Not you. Not this.” Days where comfort feels safer than calling.

And that’s when that prayer rises up again:

Push me, God.

Push me past my excuses.

Push me past the fear of failing—and maybe even more, the fear of succeeding.

Push me past the version of myself that plays small just to stay safe.

Because deep down, I know something:

The life we “talked about” isn’t random.

It was planted.

That vision? That pull? That ache for something more?

It didn’t come from nowhere.

It came from a place that already sees who we’re meant to be.

And maybe that’s why the push feels so necessary—because growth rarely happens in comfort. It happens when something nudges us forward, even when we’d rather stay where it’s familiar.

Even when it’s scary.

Especially when it’s scary.

There’s something powerful about asking God not just for blessings, but for boldness. Not just for open doors, but for the courage to walk through them. Not just for change, but for the strength to endure it.

Because the truth is, the life we’ve dreamed about?

It will require a different version of us.

A braver one.

A softer one.

A more honest one.

And maybe that’s the real prayer hidden inside those words:

Make me ready.

Ready to let go of what no longer fits.

Ready to trust even when I can’t see the full path.

Ready to show up fully—even when I feel unsure.

I think about all the times I’ve asked for clarity, when what I really needed was courage. All the times I’ve waited for a sign, when maybe the sign was already inside me, quietly saying, go.

So now, instead of waiting, I’m learning to lean in.

To take the step.

To trust the process.

To believe that the push isn’t punishment—it’s preparation.

And maybe that’s what faith looks like in real life. Not always peaceful. Not always pretty. But persistent.

A steady whisper that says:

There’s more for you. Keep going.

So if you’re in that space right now—the in-between, the almost, the not-quite-there yet—I hope you don’t just ask for comfort.

I hope you ask for the push.

The kind that wakes you up.

The kind that moves you forward.

The kind that aligns you with the life you’ve been quietly dreaming about.

Because you didn’t imagine it for no reason.

And you’re not as far away from it as you think.

Sometimes all it takes…

is the courage to say it out loud:

“Push me, God. I want the life we talked about.”