Use Me, Lord — But Gently

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)

The Light We Already Carry

There are moments when everything feels heavy —
when the world feels dark,
and I find myself whispering,
“It’s really dark, God. Can You help shine some light?”

And I feel Him answer,
softly but clearly:
“My child, you are to be the light.”

I’ve stood in the dark before, wishing for a flashlight — only to realize there was a light switch within reach.

Maybe it’s the same in life.
What we’re asking for might already be within us.
What we’re craving, we might already carry.

This world has always known darkness.
But that’s why the light matters.

Even a small light can change what feels overwhelming.

Maybe today, it begins with you.


“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.”
Matthew 5:14 (ESV)