The Strengths You Needed for your Calling.
There’s a verse tucked quietly into Paul’s letter to the Corinthians that I come back to often:
“But in fact, God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.”
I used to spend a lot of time wishing I was different. Calmer, steadier, quieter, more disciplined. It felt like everyone else had the right kind of strength for what God was asking of them, while I was busy tripping over my own emotions, ideas, and overthinking.
But somewhere along the way, I started to realize that God doesn’t make mistakes when he hands out wiring. The parts of you that feel “too much” or “not enough” are often the very tools he plans to use for your purpose.
You needed that sensitivity that makes you cry easily, because it’s also what makes you compassionate. You needed that curiosity that asks a hundred questions, because it’s what keeps you seeking truth. You needed that endurance that came from surviving the hard things, because now you can walk with others through theirs.
When scripture talks about the body of Christ, it’s not a metaphor for conformity. It’s a reminder that diversity of design is part of God’s perfection. Every strength, every struggle, every strange little detail of who you are. They were placed intentionally.
And maybe that’s why the enemy works so hard to make you hate the way you’re made. Because if he can get you to resent your own design, you’ll spend your life hiding the very thing you were meant to offer the world.
God didn’t create you to be a copy. He created you to be a reflection. One part of a whole image that shows his heart in a thousand different ways.
So, instead of asking “Why am I like this?”, maybe the better question is, “What was I made to reveal?”
You have the exact mix of strength, softness, passion, and perspective needed for the life he’s called you to live. You’re not an accident, you’re an answer.
Let’s sit at the well for a minute.
Jesus,
Thank you for making me on purpose, not by mistake. When I doubt my design, remind me that you never build without intention.
Help me stop comparing and start contributing, to use what you’ve given me for good. Show me how to love being who you made me to be.
Amen.
