Father, use my ransomed life

About five months ago now, I broke up with a man I thought I’d marry. It sucked. Massively. And admittedly, sometimes I still feel the ache of that loss in my heart, like a hole left unfilled in his absence.

But when I finally made that call, after months of stress and doubt and internal chaos, I did it with so much faith. I believed with all my heart that God was going to do something good with it — the heartbreak, the grief, the long-unfamiliar loneliness of being single. I knew that God would use that struggle somehow. So when I stepped out into that terrifying unknown, I was scared, yes, and incredibly sad, but I was also so excited to see the Lord at work in it.

Now, a few months down the road, I find myself growing impatient. Where I thought I’d see dramatic life change and spiritual revelation, I’ve been met with calls to quiet obedience. Where I assumed I’d be pulled toward some intense, sacrificial, highly visible service to the Kingdom, I’ve instead spent a great deal of time in solitude, often wondering why God hasn’t given me some sort of ministry yet.

I’ve begged Him to use me, to guide my steps, to establish the work of my hands. I’ve prayed that He would give me something, anything, to do that would make me feel useful. So far, no answer — just me and the Holy Spirit, standing quite still, with me thumping my metaphorical foot like a kid on a road trip dying to ask, “Are we there yet?” for the sixteenth time.

In the last few weeks, though, I’ve been reminded of something that I’d managed to forget…

God doesn’t only use us in the big moments; He uses us in the small ones too.

Some people are destined to go to school and serve as pastors or teachers. Some are called to spend their lives on the road as missionaries. Still others are drawn into big acts of service and sacrifice during a particular season of their lives. And those are all incredible and honorable callings.

But what God’s Word often calls us to is a quiet life of daily service, humility, and kindness. And, in His incredible mercy and power, He uses that to draw people to Him.

Jesus Himself says, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). Peter writes, “Having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by your good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:12). And so it’s clear that, though God does not need it, He uses our daily acts of small obedience to open the hearts of people around us.

What an honor that is!

And, because of just how good He is, God has graciously shown that to me over the last few weeks, not only through His Word, but through my interactions with others.

Just last week, a man whom I hardly knew and now know to be a brother in Christ, told me that my smile, given for free, had brightened his day and would point people to God. An older sister in Christ told me a few days ago that she felt God had sent me to her at a time when she needed help. And recently, when I confided in my sister (by blood and in Christ) about my sadness in not having a ministry, she offered encouragement, pointing out that offering time and service to others is a ministry in and of itself.

I still believe that, at some point, God will guide me toward a new way to serve. Maybe it’ll be through my writing. Maybe I’ll go back to school to learn church history or theology or apologetics. Maybe when I move out of my parents’ house I can host Bible studies for my local community. Or maybe it’ll be something I wouldn’t even think to consider right now.

But even if I’m wrong and the only way I ever minister to others is through my day-to-day attempts at obedience, that is more than okay. In fact, it’s amazing. Because in the end, it’s not about me at all; it’s about the Great Commission. Bringing people to Christ. Making disciples in any way I can. And whatever role God has assigned to me in that is perfect, because He is.