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Signed in as:
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It was early, just after sunrise, as I drove my stepson to work. The city hadn’t quite woken up. A man sat slumped near a building, his face etched with exhaustion, simply trying to exist. I’ve seen people without housing before—many times—but that morning, something shifted in me.
What I felt wasn’t pity. It was a deeper ache. A knowing. That could be us. The ground beneath us, like so many others, could shift without warning.
We are, for now, financially secure. We own our home. We can afford assisted living for my mother-in-law. We aren’t choosing between prescriptions and groceries. But none of that feels permanent anymore.
I’ve been watching We Were the Lucky Ones—a haunting story of war, resilience, and the terrifying randomness of survival. Each episode unsettled something in me. The parallels are hard to ignore: safety snatched from ordinary lives, people doing whatever they can to hold on to dignity, to faith, to one another. There's a particular moment when even those who thought they were "safe" within Poland realize the brutality extends beyond a single group.
And lately, I can’t help but feel we are standing closer to that edge than we realize. That morning, Spirit pressed a quiet but firm message into my chest: You will be asked to do more.
Not out of guilt. Not out of savior-ism. Out of readiness. Out of truth.
For years, I equated privilege with wealth. But what I’ve come to understand is more layered. Privilege is having options. It's living without the constant anxiety of survival. It's having space to reflect instead of react.
I don’t say this from a pedestal. I say it from a place of deep awareness—because I know how thin the line is. A few policy changes. A single diagnosis. An economic downturn. A government that no longer values the vulnerable. That’s all it takes.
So when I say I live with privilege, I don’t mean comfort without consequence. I mean I’m lucky today. I mean I haven’t forgotten how fast that luck can change. I mean I can’t look away—not anymore. And I won’t.
That morning didn’t leave me with a task. Spirit didn’t drop a job description in my lap. But the stirring hasn’t gone away. It lingers. It hums underneath my day. It says: “Pay attention. You’ll be needed.”
I’ve tried to “do something” with it. I’ve been writing more about the shifting political landscape. I’ve been reflecting, praying, even looking into volunteer work. But nothing has clicked. Nothing has felt aligned.
And here’s the hard truth I’ve had to face: I don’t know if I’m waiting on Spirit—or if Spirit is waiting on me.
Is this a sacred pause, or am I stalling in spiritual language? Is my discomfort a nudge toward preparation, or am I protecting myself from stepping into messier service? The “not-yet” space can be honest spiritual waiting. But it can also be ego.
Ego says: “I’ll help when I feel totally ready.” Spirit says: “Start becoming who you need to be now.”
If you’re in this space too—the space of sacred uncertainty—here’s how I’m moving through it:
· Ask the harder question. Instead of “What should I do?” ask, “What am I afraid to commit to?” Notice your energy. Is your stillness rooted in peace—or avoidance?
· Seek Spirit in the discomfort. Let the ache guide you to what’s unfinished inside. Write with rawness. Journal this: “If I knew I wouldn’t fail, how would I show up right now?”
This isn’t about rushing. It’s about being honest. Sometimes waiting is wise. Other times, it’s protection in disguise. The only way to know is to listen more deeply.
If you feel it too—the unease, the pull, the awareness that something is shifting—you’re not imagining it. Spirit is stirring many of us. And it’s no longer about personal evolution alone. This is collective. This is sacred responsibility.
Especially for those of us in our second season of life, it can be tempting to step back. To believe we’ve done enough. To hope someone younger will step forward.
But Spirit doesn’t work that way. Spirit calls the willing. Spirit calls the awake. Spirit calls the ones who know what it’s like to lose, to endure, to remember.
This isn’t about martyrdom. It’s about showing up from your wholeness, not your wounds. I’m still learning what that looks like. But I know it begins here: with honesty, humility, and a refusal to numb out.
We may not know the next step, but we can prepare our hearts to say yes when it comes. Let this be your quiet commitment:
· Tend to your inner life. Not as self-indulgence, but as spiritual preparation.
· Stay alert. Read. Listen. Pay attention to what makes you uncomfortable.
· Offer what you can, when you can. A word. A post. A conversation. A prayer.
· Don’t wait to feel perfect. Wait to feel aligned—and then move.
Spirit doesn’t need us to save the world. But Spirit does need us awake in it.
If these words resonate, speak this prayer—not just once, but as often as you need to:
“Spirit, I am listening.
I do not know what’s next, but I am willing.
Let my clarity become someone’s hope.
Let my stability become someone’s support.
Let my life, just as it is, become useful to You.”
You don’t have to be ready. But if you’re willing—really willing—Spirit will show you what’s yours to do. And that will be enough.
About Rev. Colleen Irwin: Rev. Colleen Irwin is a powerhouse of intuition, insight, and inspiration. A natural Medium, she turns whispers from Spirit into wisdom that empowers others. She is the author of Discovering Your Stream and the upcoming Guided by Spirit, a must-read for those developing their spiritual gifts.
As a business consultant, Colleen blends intuition with strategy to help others succeed. She also teaches, writes, and leads development circles. In addition, she volunteers at the Susan B. Anthony Museum, sharing stories of resilience. A Previvor since 2019, Colleen knows the power of healing and transformation. She inspires others to trust their gifts, embrace their path, and live their truth.
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