When It Costs More Than You Expected

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

Entry #40 — When It Costs More Than Expected

It was just after 3:30 a.m. when I woke up with the weight already on my chest.

Not fear. Not panic.

Just the quiet awareness of what this is actually costing me.

The room was still dark. Phoenix quiet—the kind that feels held, not empty. Frankie shifted at the foot of the bed, then went still again.

“Good morning, Holy Spirit,” I said.

The words came out slower today.

“I didn’t think it would cost this much,” I admitted.

I didn’t mean money.
I meant relationships thinning.
Being misunderstood.
Being called dramatic—or worse, delusional.
Losing the comfort of staying small.

“I knew there would be a price,” I said. “I just didn’t know it would touch this many places.”

There was no rush in His response.

If I had shown you the full cost on day one, He said, you would have tried to decide if you were worth it.

That stopped me.

My ribs tightened, like something fragile had been named.

“I would’ve hesitated,” I said quietly. “I might’ve said no.”

I know, He replied. That’s why I asked for trust before I asked for endurance.

I swallowed.

“So You didn’t warn me.”

I didn’t burden you before I built you, He said. You measure cost by loss. I measure it by formation.

That landed hard.

I shifted onto my side, pulling the blanket closer—not for comfort, but grounding.

“It feels like I’m losing things,” I said. “People. Stability. Familiar ground.”

You’re losing what can’t follow you, He said. And gaining what can’t be built any other way.

My chest burned—not with fear, but recognition.

“The cost isn’t a side effect,” I said slowly.

No, He replied. It’s the tool.

Silence settled—not heavy, but steady.

I breathed deeper now. The weight hadn’t disappeared.

But it had changed.

From punishment to purpose. From loss to shaping.

“I didn’t sign up for this part,” I said again.

You signed up for Me, He answered. And I’m still here.

That was enough.

Not relief.
Not reassurance.

Just shared ground beneath my feet.

Even when the cost is higher than expected.