There’s something quietly beautiful about being at peace with your own limitations — like standing barefoot in the soft soil of who you truly are, without needing to bloom in every garden.
This week at Elijah House A-School, I’ve made a fair share of clumsy mistakes while serving on the sound desk. Wrong buttons. Missed cues and sighs. And then yesterday, our facilitator gently told me, “This is not your gifting.” Actually, I'm not certain whether it was a comment or a question. A few years ago, that would have pierced my heart and the "we love you" that followed would have missed my heart because there was a time when I believed I was a mistake. I might’ve internalised it as failure, as unworthiness, as shame but without missing a beat, I heard myself reply with calm clarity, “No, it’s a skill" — something I’m capable of, but not something I’m called to excel at.
And to my quiet astonishment… there was no sting.
No wobble in my worth.
No questioning of my belonging.
Just peace.
I think that’s the evidence of healing — when feedback no longer fractures your identity. When you no longer measure your value by how flawless your service is. When you know you’re loved and chosen even in your unspectacular moments.
📖 "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them." — Ephesians 2:10 (NKJV)
I am His workmanship. Not a perfect technician. Not a flawless performer. But a daughter who shows up — who’s willing to try, willing to learn, willing to serve, even when it’s messy.
It’s okay if some things aren’t our gifting.
We don’t have to do all things brilliantly to do them faithfully.
And maybe that's what mattered more this week — not that the sound was perfect, but that I kept showing up, willing and unoffended. The world doesn’t always teach us to separate skill from calling. But Holy Spirit does. He whispers gently, “Just be you.” And somehow, that’s enough.
🖼 Featured Painting:
“Midnight Prayer” [#1063] — the quiet swirl of dark blues and whispering light speaks of hidden surrender, humble offering, and the sacredness of unseen service. Like me at the sound desk… fumbling, faithful, and held.
🎨 Creative Prompt
In your journal, draw or paint two hands: one holding tools you’re skilled in, and one cradling what you’re truly gifted in. Label them prayerfully. Invite Holy Spirit to speak to you about the difference — and the beauty of both.
Then write a few lines:
Where have I mistaken skill for calling? 🤔
Where have I dismissed my gift because it doesn't "perform" like others? 🤔
What brings me deep joy even when I’m not applauded? 🤔
He sees the heart behind every imperfect offering.
You are not defined by the buttons you press or the mistakes you make.
You are defined by the One who calls you beloved. 💖
Wednesday, 9 July 2025
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