I Didn't Think God Could Use Me

I had a mental list of all the reasons God couldn't possibly use me, and I could recite it from memory. Too much of a past. Not enough Bible knowledge. A mouth that said the wrong thing, a track record of quitting, a faith that felt more like flickering than fire. Whenever someone at church talked about being "called," I'd nod along while a voice in the back of my head whispered, sure, but not you. I'd quietly decided I was the exception to grace.

So I stayed in the back. I showed up, I gave when the plate came around, and I made myself as small as possible. Serving was for the polished people up front — the ones who had their lives together and their sins safely in the past. I figured the best I could offer God was to stay out of the way and not embarrass Him.

What cracked that open was a kid named Marcus. Our church needed volunteers for the youth program, and they were short-handed, so I got asked directly — the kind of ask that's hard to dodge. I said yes, mostly out of guilt. The first night, a fourteen-year-old named Marcus hung back after everyone left and told me he didn't think God wanted anything to do with him because of stuff he'd done. I heard my own list coming out of his mouth. And for the first time, I knew exactly what to say.

That night, I wore one of my plain Christian t-shirts, nothing fancy, and Marcus pointed at the verse on it and asked if I really believed it. I told him I was learning to. Those Christian t-shirts had been sitting in my drawer for months because I didn't feel worthy to wear what they said. But standing in front of that kid, I realized God wasn't waiting for me to feel qualified. He was just waiting for me to show up.

I kept showing up. Tuesday after Tuesday, I told my messy story to a room of teenagers who related to messy. And the strangest thing happened — the very things I thought disqualified me were exactly what made them trust me. My past wasn't a barrier. It was the bridge.

I wear faith-filled Christian apparel openly now, and I keep a piece of Christian jewelry on as a reminder of that turning point — a simple cross I touch before every youth night. I've handed that same Christian jewelry to a couple of the kids who graduated out of our program, along with some Christian apparel, little tokens that say you belong, and you're called too.

If you've written yourself off the list, let me save you the trouble: God doesn't use the qualified. He qualifies the willing. You don't have to be ready. You just have to be available — and He'll do the rest.