When I was younger, I wanted to change the world. Make a difference. Do something big for God.
But from my preteen point of view, the odds were totally against me.
I lived in a small, Southern town.
Nobody really knew me.
Social anxiety was my closest (and, at times, it felt like my only) friend.
I was timid and awkward and stuck.
And also, I was homeschooled. Not going to include any commentary on that one.
If you’ve heard my story, you know God did some really cool things in my life and I no longer struggle with many of the issues that plagued me as a kid.
I’m still so far from perfect, but I also still have that burn to set the world on fire. I so badly desire for God to use my one little life for His great glory.
But sometimes, the odds still seem stacked against me. The enemy still likes to cause discouragement and, although I’m terrible at sports, I’m pretty good at catching the lies he throws at me.
Who am I really?
I’m too messed up to advance God’s Kingdom on earth.
Why would anyone even listen to me?
I’m nowhere near as good at speaking/writing/teaching/leading/encouraging/praying/__________ as _______________.
And on and on and on ad nauseam.
My blog stats don’t tell me exactly who is reading this post, but I’ll go out on a limb and guess you’ve entertained these thoughts before, too. You feel like there’s an ongoing wrestling match between your heart desiring to truly live for Jesus and your head telling you you’re not enough.
Well, sister (you may actually be a brother, but the majority of you are female, so we’ll roll with it), you’re not alone.
A few mornings ago, I sat in bed with a cup of coffee and my Bible. I’m working my way through a study by Beth Moore called The Quest: An Excursion Toward Intimacy with God.
I was reading about how God told Abraham and Sarah they would have a son. Abraham and Sarah both took their turn laughing at the impossibility of it. They were both older – way past the season of life where people have kids.
And yet, here comes Isaac, whose name actually means he laughs.
Laughter at the impossibility of a situation turns into laughter bubbling out of joy.
A little farther into the study, Beth says a quote I’ve put on repeat in my mind, like a song on Spotify that keeps hitting me like it’s the first time I’ve heard it:
“The improbable is no harder for God to accomplish than the probable” (The Quest p. 69).
Huh. I’ve reread that so many times, but I just had to go back and look at what I typed again.
It’s so true, but it’s also so easy to dismiss God’s power because something feels impossible.
Then the study pointed me to Isaiah 51. Here, God is comforting His people, encouraging them to continue to stay close to Him. In verse 2, He says,
“Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who gave birth to you. When I called him, he was only one; I blessed him and made him many.”
“When I called him, he was only one…”
“I made him many.”
Years earlier, God pointed Abraham’s gaze to the countless stars in the sky and told him he would have even more descendants than that. He told him this when he and Sarah were already too old to be parents.
But Isaac was born. And Isaac fathered Jacob, who became known as Israel. And Israel had 12 sons who spread out into tribes and became a nation. And on and on and on.
So what’s my point in this? I’m not talking about dreaming big or taking risks or doing big things for God. That’s a whole other topic for another day and a stronger cup of coffee.
My point is this, and I say it with so much love: Don’t you dare let the enemy convince you that God can’t use you. Don’t spend one more second believing it’s impossible for God to work in your life and show His glory to the world.
Don’t even give it a thought.
“The improbable is no harder for God to accomplish than the probable.”
Think about it: How much more of God’s glory is on display in Abraham’s story because God did the impossible? What if Abraham and Sarah had a few kids while they were in their mid-twenties, and those kids grew up to have kids and grandkids and great-grandkids and that’s how God created His people?
Yeah, it’d work, but we wouldn’t feel a sense of awe at God’s power every time we read the story.
The Maker of our hearts makes impossible things possible.
So offer your one, unique life – the one with God’s fingerprints all over it – to Him and say, “Please use my life for your glory.” It may not look like you think it should. It may not happen when or how you think it should. It may seem to take forever, and you may not even see how it’s all working together right now. But you can trust it’s happening.
Abraham was just one person when God called him.
But through his one, faithful life, God changed the world.