The Called

It’s been a crazy week to say the least.

It’s been so beautiful to see the response to the first chapter of The Living Epistles featuring one of my greatest friends, Izzie Ziemba.

I’ve been so overwhelmed with gratitude, and so moved that so many have heard her testimony and heard a real, raw account of how the Lord was working so diligently in her life. Our prayer - that at least one person would hear the interview or read the piece and see the greatness of God despite the chaos of life and humanity as we know it - was surely answered. 

With all of that being said, the other side of the mountain top can sometimes feel a bit scary once you get there. I finally accomplished something of some sort of magnitude for this blog, bringing attention to the way the Lord works in beautifully mysterious ways, and instead of only feeling immense excitement while patiently waiting for the next opportunity, I feel more nervous that the next opportunity may not come any time soon. 

I’m someone who struggles a lot mentally (I am a tortured poet, after all), and my brain has taken this situation and twisted it into something it isn’t whatsoever. 

What that interview was, was a gleaming success that highlights God’s glory amidst the utter chaos of young adult girlhood. Yet, my mind has altered the reality of that to instead highlight all of my shortcomings up to this point.

Basically, I’ve just been hit upside the head with the insecure idea that I don’t know how to follow up with my regular writing after that kind of interview. I know, rationally, that not everything can always be such a glimmering triumph, but it can still be something a bit harrowing to work through nonetheless. 

I have been finding great comfort in knowing that no matter what - no matter what measure of success - it’s all just an earthly measure. At the end of the day, who and what I am doing all of this for is what matters most: God and His glory. 

All in all, I’ve just felt a bit unqualified as a writer and as a disciple. Relatively unable to shake the feelings of: 

“Who am I, and who gave me the authority to write about God and my simple, measly human experiences on the blog in this way? Am I even a decent enough writer to call myself one? Why do I even try.. someone else could do far better.”

These feelings once again lead me into another very important principle:

God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

This is something that I have told Izzie hundreds of times, and when I called her while writing this very piece and was explaining how I’m feeling about it all, she poignantly reminded me of my own favorite little phrase. But I will admit - it’s easier to say it than to hear it, especially when you’re feeling bad for yourself. Even so, it doesn’t make it any less true.

Think of the Bible; it’s filled with hundreds of people who were also utterly unqualified to be used for God’s purposes. Yet He used them anyway, all for His glory.

I don’t think it’s any secret that Paul is my favorite apostle, but Peter is probably my favorite of the twelve original disciples. Anyways - can you imagine how unqualified every single one of the disciples probably felt when Jesus called them by name?

Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way claiming to be anywhere near the stature or the importance of the disciples…

HOWEVER

I was called by name for a greater purpose by Jesus Himself the day He saved my life and made me new.

That day I inherited the greater purpose that all believers are gifted the day of our salvation. I may struggle to grasp that and properly handle that responsibility for the rest of my life, but it doesn’t change the fact that we were all called to His service; making disciples among the nations using the talents He chose for each of us.

Mine happens to be writing about my failures and His greatness despite it all. So even when I have no clue what to do or where to take this from here, I’ll just keep on praying that He’ll continue to guide me, and that one day I just might figure it out.

Until then, I will just keep on trying.

I hope that this overly-honest, slower change of pace from last week was as recharging for you as it was for me. 

If you’re also struggling with similar feelings, remember that you’re not alone. You’ve got me and my embarrassing stories that hopefully make you feel seen, and more importantly, obviously, God will always be one prayer away.

Until next week,

— E. Byers, author of The Grassy Laine