It’s ours, not mine

🌅 Morning Whispers with Holy Spirit – Companion, Friend, and Helper

Entry #37 — It's Ours, Not Mine

I woke before the alarm—at 3:11 a.m .—to deep desert quiet. The kind that feels untouched. Like the day hadn’t reached for me yet.

The room was dark and still. Frankie slept curled at the foot of the bed, steady and warm. I stayed where I was, not moving, not reaching—just listening.

“Good morning, Holy Spirit.”

Nothing came.

No thought. No direction. No nudge toward anything useful.

I waited for my mind to start filling the space—plans, prayers, the usual what should I bring You today? But it didn’t.

The quiet stayed clean.

I shifted slightly, aware of how rare that felt. Usually, I arrive with something already in my hands.

“I don’t have anything yet,” I said softly.

There was no correction in the response. No instruction.

“This is where I meet you.”

I stayed there.

Breathing slowed. My shoulders eased back into the mattress. The subtle tension I hadn’t realized I was holding—right beneath my sternum—began to loosen, like a grip finally releasing something it didn’t need to carry yet.

Nothing was named. Nothing needed naming.

And then, without effort, without planning, something formed—not a task or an answer, just a sense. Gentle. Shared.

“It’s ours.”

Something in my chest went still.

Not excitement. Not urgency. Recognition.

Ours—not mine offered up for approval. Not His handed down to manage. But something forming between us, held in the space we were sharing.

I stayed with that—feeling the weight of it settle low and steady, like an anchor rather than a push.

I understood then: There’s a difference between asking God to bless what you’re building and discovering what takes shape when you let Him begin.

The quiet hadn’t been empty. It had been collaborative.

And whatever would come later—words, steps, work—it would come from here.
From this shared beginning.

Not rushed.
Not claimed.
Just ours.