When Grace Waited for Me
Last week Sunday, I drove two hours to our branch in Delaware after my commissioning, heart racing the whole way. By the time I pulled into the lot, I was two hours late. I walked into the sanctuary bracing for disappointment, but instead I found a congregation, and a room full of youth still earnestly waiting. The weight of that moment humbled me to my core.
I hadn’t even sent a bio. Yet somehow, they’d found pieces of my story online and welcomed me like family. When the minister shared why they chose me as their guest speaker, I couldn’t hold the tears. I genuinely didn’t know how loved and honored I am among these young people, especially the girls who’ve been watching quietly, taking courage from my journey.
That love unlocked me. I put my notes aside and opened my heart. I shared my life, my struggles, and some of the testimonies I usually keep tucked away. Before I knew it, it shifted into a Q&A - hands up, real questions, brave honesty. We talked about life, calling, confidence, mistakes, and mercy. It felt like sitting in a circle, not standing on a stage.
By the time service ended, I was undone in the best way. Their warmth wasn’t performance, it was presence. The hugs lingered, the prayers were specific, and the smiles said, “We see you.” I left feeling both small and seen, emptied and filled at the same time.
I didn’t feel like I deserved any of it. But grace spoke differently. It reminded me that God doesn’t wait for perfect timing or perfect people, He just asks for a willing yes. Even late, even tired, even unsure, He can still pour.
I’m carrying Delaware with me. I’m carrying the girls who looked me in the eye with hope, the boys who asked hard questions, the leaders who chose me without a résumé. I’m renewed in my assignment: to show up, to tell the truth, to keep giving God my yes.
If grace can meet me on a late arrival, it can meet anyone, anywhere. May I never take that for granted. May I steward it well. And may every room I enter feel what I felt that late afternoon, love that waits, welcomes, and reminds us we’re already held.
Xoxo,
Lady Abena.
Grace For Us Who Feel Unworthy
Yesterday was my commissioning service as a Lay Preacher of the Methodist Church Ghana. The service was beautiful and deeply impactful, yet the journey into that sacred moment began in a place of quiet struggle. I woke up in the morning feeling overwhelmed, with many thoughts running through my mind. After two years of training, preparation, and examinations, in which by God’s grace I excelled, I still found myself questioning my heart and asking the Holy Spirit if He truly considered me worthy of this ministry. In my tears I asked the Lord so many questions. What if I let You down, Jesus. What if I fail? What if my weaknesses become too loud? These questions poured out from a heart that desires to honor God and never treat His presence or His work as familiar or casual.
Throughout my Christian journey, I have longed to serve God with reverence and excellence. Whatever I have to do for Him, I desire to give my all and my very best, because He knows my heart toward Him. Yet it is often in that very longing to honor God that feelings of unworthiness rise to the surface. I remembered that throughout Scripture God consistently called those who felt unqualified, uncertain, and small in their own eyes. He called Moses, who doubted his speech. He called Jeremiah, who felt too young. He called Gideon, who saw himself as the least. The pattern of God has never been to search for the most confident, but for the surrendered. He chooses vessels that tremble, in order to display that the power belongs to Him and not to us.
In that tender morning moment, God met me in my questions. He did not rebuke my tears, but He gently calmed my spirit and quieted my fears. Through His Word and His inner whisper, He reminded me that He who calls is also the One who equips, sustains, and finishes what He begins. He reassured me that this ministry is not built on my perfection, but on His unfailing grace. He wrapped my heart with the promise of His presence, reminding me that He is with me always, even to the end of the age. To anyone who feels unworthy, unsure, or too small for what God is calling you into, take courage. God calls those of us who feel unworthy, so that His strength may be made perfect in our weakness. He is not asking you to be enough on your own. He is asking you to trust that He is with you, and that He will be with you until the end of times.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for calling me in my weakness; calm my fears, fill me with Your Spirit, and help me to serve You faithfully, knowing that You are with me always, even to the end of the age. Let this be so and so it is in Jesus name. AMEN.
Xoxo,
Lady Abena.
When God Works with the Few
“ The Lord said to Gideon, ‘You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against Me, “My own strength has saved me.” ’ ” (Judges 7:2).
In the book of Judges, the Lord reduced Gideon’s army from thousands to merely three hundred men, a remnant that seemed insignificant in the face of a vast enemy. Yet it was through that one percent that God displayed His power and secured victory for Israel. The Lord intentionally chose the small, the least, and the unlikely, so that no one could boast in human strength. This story still speaks today: God is never limited by numbers, resources, status, or what appears impressive in the eyes of the world. He delights to work through what seems inadequate, in order to reveal that His grace and might are more than enough.
I have witnessed this principle in my own life. There have been seasons when I felt painfully underqualified, under-resourced, and overwhelmed by the size of the battles before me. Yet time and again, the Lord has stepped into those very places of lack and turned them into testimonies of His faithfulness. He used the little that I had, the smallest opportunities, the weakest moments, and transformed them into open doors, restored relationships, surprising provision, and quiet breakthroughs that only He could have orchestrated. My story is simply another echo of Gideon’s: God uses the least to perform wonders.
If you feel as though your strength is too small, your faith too fragile, or your situation too far gone, remember that the God of Gideon is your God too, and your limitations do not diminish His capacity. The question is never, “Am I enough?” but always, “Is God with me?” and in Christ the answer is a resounding yes.
Prayer: Lord, take the little that I have, the weakness that I feel, and the battles that I face, and show Yourself strong on my behalf, that my life may testify that You alone are the God of the impossible. Let this be so and so it is in Jesus’ name. AMEN!
Xoxo,
Lady Abena.