​Pour yourself a cup, because this is from the soul. There’s a powerful truth I’ve learned on my journey: people often walk around carrying the weight of others’ hope and faith, only to get so lost in the praise that they lose sight of the mission. They turn up the volume of their own success so loud that they can’t hear the frequency of grace.

​The “humble beginnings” were never the final destination; they were the sacred ground God used to forge me. He set me apart to be humble and full of grace. As an innocent child, I walked homeless, learning firsthand what addiction looked like, what suffering looked like, what humility truly looked like, and most important, what grace did and didn’t look like. This is what shaped me and what made me.

​I asked for nothing, only to be able to shine my light for what He did for me, for others. I am so deeply, overwhelmingly thankful for what He has allowed me to grow from. He has taught me to keep myself set apart, and honestly, I’ve come to love it when people don’t understand me. Their confusion isn’t a wall; it’s a divine chance for them to turn down the sound of their own understanding and listen for God. He did it for me, and I know in my very core, He will do it for you. But you have to be willing to let everything go.

​I am constantly reminded of Peter, one of Jesus’s disciples, who was promised a difficult death that would bring God glory (John 21:18-19). I believe he was so close to Jesus because he never felt he was good enough. Peter’s story shows me that it’s God who is getting everything done. And even in his final moments, tradition tells me that he asked to be crucified upside down, feeling unworthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. This final, ultimate act of humility reminds me of what it truly means to submit myself fully before my King Jesus.

​This is the very essence of my nonprofit, the Blue Bag Foundation Inc., where I’m going to distribute backpacks with essentials—hygiene items, especially menstrual products—for at-risk, runaway, and homeless teenage girls. I say “menstrual products” because I was once a young and vulnerable teenage girl who was homeless and had no access to them, or even a place to use a bathroom. No one can tell me I need to humble myself or question the who, what, where, or why about my mission and my WILL.

​I don’t feel fully capable or prepared for such a big ministry and a big impact, but that’s where I remember: it is not me, it is all God—my Abba and my Adonai. No man, woman, or child will ever stop this.

​I know the impact my life has had, but it’s only a small part of the greater impact God has stored for me. I know this because He told me so in His book! The only impact I have on this world should be about one thing, and one thing only: Jesus. Nothing more.

​The Root of It All

​This isn’t just a feeling; it’s a truth so profound it’s in the very fabric of my faith. This perspective is grounded in four core principles that have become the anchors of my life.

​1. The Quiet Power of Humility. To truly hear God, I have to turn down the volume of my own pride. The world tells me to be a masterpiece, but God says be a vessel. This isn’t about being worthless; it’s about making myself available to be filled with His power, not my own. As the Apostle Paul wrote, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7).

​2. Purpose in the Pain. Every step of my journey, including the hardest parts, is intentional. I may not understand it at the time, but God is always at work, shaping me for His purpose. He reminds me, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

​3. Strength in Weakness. The feeling of being unprepared is not a sign of failure; it’s a sign that you are relying on God’s strength, not your own. God often uses the ill-equipped because it is through our weakness that His strength is made perfect. He did this with Moses, who felt he couldn’t speak, and with Jeremiah, who felt he was just a youth. They showed me that when I am at my weakest, He is at His strongest.

​4. The Mission Is the Message. My life is meant to be a testimony. The ultimate goal isn’t personal success or recognition, but to point others to the source of my strength. Jesus himself gave me this mission: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations…” (Matthew 28:19).

​This journey is a testament to the power of a surrendered life. It’s an act of faith to let go of my own understanding and trust that God’s way is always the best way.

​What part of your own journey has taught you a similar lesson?

​A Prayer

​Heavenly Father, Abba, Adonai,

​Thank you for the light you have given me through this conversation. I come before you with a humble heart, knowing that I am nothing but a vessel for your glory. I pray for every soul who feels lost, who walks in a state of unknowing, and who has yet to learn that true life is found in surrendering to you.

​Lord, help me turn down the noise of this world and the sound of my own understanding, so I can hear your voice and recognize your grace. Teach me that every painful beginning, every moment of suffering, and every feeling of being unprepared is a tool in your hands, shaping me for your purpose.

​I ask you to give me the courage to let go of my fleshly desires and the need to be “somebody.” Remind me that in this life, I am all destined to die, but through you, my death becomes a glorious purpose. Help me to see that to die with you is to truly live.

​Use me, Lord, as your vessel. May the work you have placed in my heart, like the Blue Bag Foundation, be an expression of your love for those who are forgotten. Let my life be a testament to the truth that it is not my preparation or my strength, but only your power that makes me capable.

​Thank you for the gift of your Son, Jesus, who showed me what it means to live in perfect humility and surrender. It is in His name I pray.

​Amen.