Push Me

I once heard a story about God pushing people.Pushing them off mountaintops, skyscrapers, even the Eiffel Tower.Not to break them, but to help them discover their wings.Because sometimes you won’t know you can fly until the ground disappears beneath your feet.

“Oh push me, God (push me, push me) Push me.”—Tank & The Bangas

I won’t pretend to be overly religious, but I know this much: without a higher power, I’d probably still be curled up in bed, crying until there were no tears left. That power is the only thing that keeps me moving when I feel like shutting down completely.

The last few weeks have been heavy. I moved into a new place. I’ve lived alone before, but this time is different. This is the first home I’ve had without Iman, and that truth cuts deep. It feels like both a new beginning and a reminder of a painful ending. I can never share this space, this milestone, with her.

I look at her pictures and the tears come. I smell her preserved clothes and sheets, and the anger rises. I hold her beloved dog “Grandma”—who somehow always finds her way back to me no matter where I try to place her—and I can’t help but feel conflicted. Grandma is a living reminder of Iman, one I didn’t ask for but maybe one I need. Still, it stings. Memories fade, get foggy, and all I want is to hold onto her clearer, longer, louder.

I know I have talents, goals, and dreams, but when it comes to showing up for myself, I fall short again and again. That’s why I need the push. A divine push. A nudge from above that tells me: Don’t quit. Don’t stop. Don’t let grief steal what’s still left in you.

Because faith, in many ways, is like flying blind. You can’t see the landing, you don’t always know where the wind is carrying you, but you trust the wings God gave you. And sometimes that’s enough.

Letting go—truly surrendering—has shown me that I don’t always need to grip the wheel. I don’t need to control every turn, every outcome, every possibility. When I loosen my hold and allow God—or the universe—to steer, I find myself on paths I never imagined. Opportunities unfold. Healing happens in places I thought were permanently broken. Success creeps in, not because I forced it, but because I allowed it.

Control feels safe, but it can also be a prison. Releasing it feels terrifying, but it’s also freeing. I’m learning that sometimes the best thing I can do is stop wrestling with what’s already written and allow myself to be carried.

I don’t always believe I can fly. But every time God pushes me, every time I choose to trust instead of fear, I remember—I can.

Affirmation to Hold On To

I trust the push. I trust the process. I may not see the whole sky, but I know I was made to fly. Today, I let go of fear and surrender to the path ahead, knowing that God—or the universe—will carry me where I am meant to go.