Called Despite Myself

I am a preacher's wife, a Bible class teacher, and a church secretary. At our previous congregation, I was also an elder's wife. These roles make my life very visible to a lot of people, and whether I feel deserving of it or not, there are those who look to me as an example of what a Christian woman should be.

That is a humbling—and sometimes overwhelming—responsibility.

Every morning, I wake up and ask God to help me do better. To be a light in this world. To work heartily, as unto the Lord and not unto men (Colossians 3:23). To speak with kindness, love more deeply, serve more willingly, and live a life that brings glory to Him.

And yet, every morning, I am reminded of just how unworthy I am of that calling.

I know my own heart. I know my weaknesses, my shortcomings, and the sins I continue to struggle against. I know the thoughts I shouldn't entertain, the words I wish I could take back, the opportunities to do good that I've allowed to pass me by. I know how often I fall short of the woman I desperately want to be.

Sometimes, the weight of that knowledge can be almost crushing.

How can the perfect, holy Father of lights (James 1:17) use someone like me? Someone who stumbles, struggles, and seems to fall short day after day? How can I possibly be an example to anyone when I am so painfully aware of how much growing I still have to do?

And then I remember something that changes everything:

Grace is not God rewarding the worthy. It is God rescuing the undeserving.

The entire gospel rests upon that beautiful truth.

When we open our Bibles, we don't find a collection of flawless men and women whom God chose because they had somehow earned His favor. Instead, we find ordinary, imperfect people with extraordinary stories of what God accomplished through them.

Moses killed a man and later questioned his own ability to speak and lead. Yet God used him to deliver an entire nation from bondage.

David committed adultery and orchestrated the death of an innocent man. Yet when confronted with his sin, he humbled himself in repentance, and God continued to work through his life.

Peter boldly declared that he would never deny Jesus, only to deny Him three times when fear overtook his courage. Yet that same Peter would later stand before thousands and fearlessly proclaim the risen Christ.

Paul persecuted Christians and approved of their imprisonment and suffering. Yet by the grace of God, he became one of the greatest proclaimers of the gospel.

Their stories remind me that our failures do not have to be the final word in our lives.

God did not overlook their sins or excuse their disobedience. He called them to repentance, transformed their lives, and used them for His purposes.

And He is still in the business of transforming imperfect people today.

Paul understood this perhaps better than anyone. In 1 Corinthians 15:10, he wrote, "But by the grace of God I am what I am."

What a powerful confession from a man who had accomplished so much for the kingdom! Paul did not point to his abilities, his accomplishments, or his dedication as the source of his worth. He pointed to God's grace.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9, the Lord told Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness."

Not in perfection. Not in impressive accomplishments. In weakness.

Ephesians 2:8–9 reminds us that we are saved by grace through faith, not by works that give us reason to boast. And Romans 5:8 declares:

"But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

While we were still sinners. That declaration brings tears of humility and gratitude to my eyes every time!

Not after we had cleaned ourselves up. Not after we had finally gotten everything right. Not after we had become worthy of His love. Christ died for us while we were still sinners.

Of course, that grace does not give us permission to remain comfortable in our sin. As Paul makes clear in Romans 6:1–2, grace is never an excuse to continue in disobedience. Rather, it is the very reason we should long to live differently. We need to recognize the weight of our sin, but we shouldn’t allow it to crush us. God's mercy should move us toward repentance, obedience, and a deeper desire to become more like Christ.

And perhaps that is what I most need to remember on those mornings when my shortcomings seem greater than my usefulness.

God isn't asking me to pretend I have it all together. He is asking me to faithfully follow Him, to repent when I stumble, to keep growing, and to trust in His strength rather than my own.

I will never be a perfect preacher's wife, Bible teacher, church secretary, mother, friend, or Christian woman. But perfection was never something I could accomplish through my own strength.

My calling is not a testimony to my goodness. It is a testimony to His grace.

I am not a trophy of my own righteousness, but a living testimony of God's mercy.

God did not call me because of who I am or what I have accomplished. He called me despite my failures, my weaknesses, and my unworthiness. And that truth doesn't make me want to serve Him less. It makes me want to serve Him more.

So tomorrow morning, I will wake up and ask God once again to help me do better. Not because I believe I can ever earn His love, but because I am so profoundly grateful that He has already shown it to me.

And when I fall short—as I surely will—I will remember that the same gracious God who called me is still patiently working to mold me into the woman He wants me to become.

I am called despite myself. And every day, I am thankful for the grace that makes that calling possible.