calling

Stewarding My Life

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

The older I get, the more I think about stewardship.

When I was younger, I thought stewardship was mostly about money.

Giving.

Managing.

Being responsible.

But I’m beginning to realize stewardship reaches so much further than that.

My life itself has been entrusted to me.

My words.

My time.

My relationships.

My gifts.

My opportunities.

Even the difficult seasons I never would have chosen.

None of them were ever truly mine to begin with.

They’re all things God has placed in my hands for a little while.

That changes the questions I ask.

Instead of asking,

“How much can I accomplish?”

I find myself asking,

“Am I being faithful with what’s already been entrusted to me?”

Because one day I won’t give an account for someone else’s life.

Only my own.

How I loved.

How I spoke.

How I forgave.

How I used the gifts God gave me.

How I cared for the people He placed in my path.

How I responded to both joy and suffering.

I’ve realized stewardship isn’t about perfection.

It’s about faithfulness.

It’s waking up each morning and quietly praying,

“Lord, help me care well for everything You’ve placed in my hands today.”

Not because I’m trying to earn His approval.

But because everything I have has always been His.

Maybe living faithfully isn’t about chasing a bigger life.

Maybe it’s about stewarding this one well.

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”

— 1 Peter 4:10 (NIV)

Maybe You Haven’t Met All of Yourself Yet

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

I used to think becoming meant adding something I didn’t already have.

More confidence.

More courage.

More ability.

But lately, I’ve started to wonder if becoming is less about adding…

…and more about uncovering.

About recognizing gifts that have been there all along.

Potential that was buried beneath self-doubt.

Strength that only revealed itself when life demanded it.

For a long time, I believed the voice that said,

“You’re not ready yet.”

“You’re not qualified.”

“Someone else could do it better.”

And maybe you’ve heard those voices too.

But what if they were never telling the whole truth?

What if there’s more in you than you’ve allowed yourself to see?

Not because you’re extraordinary.

Not because you’ve suddenly become someone different.

But because God has always seen something in you that you were slow to recognize in yourself.

He doesn’t call us because we’ve already become everything we’re capable of becoming.

He calls us knowing who we’re still growing into.

Maybe that’s why Scripture is filled with ordinary people who initially questioned themselves.

They saw their limitations.

God saw who they could become in His hands.

And I wonder how often we spend our lives arguing with the One who made us about what we’re capable of.

Maybe today is a good day to stop doing that.

Not with arrogance.

With gratitude.

Because seeing the potential God placed within you isn’t pride.

It’s stewardship.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
— Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

Use Me, Lord — But Gently

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

There’s a quiet prayer I’ve found myself repeating lately:
“Use me, Lord… but gently.”

Not because I’m unwilling.
But because I’ve walked through seasons where my yes was misused.
Where my willingness was mistaken for weakness.
Where I gave freely — and it cost me more than it should have.

But when God calls, He doesn’t use us like that.
He doesn’t push past our boundaries or pull us into places that harm.
His voice doesn’t manipulate.
It invites.

And His use doesn’t leave me empty — it brings me back to life.

So I’m learning to trust this:
That when I surrender to Him, it won’t break me.
It will grow me.
Heal me.
Steady me.

And when I say yes from this place,
it won’t be out of pressure —
but peace.

So Lord, here I am.
Still willing.
Still soft.
Still Yours.
Use me — in ways that make me more whole,
not less.

“But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”
— Psalm 86:15 (NIV)