Yesterday, I had one of those “real talk” moments with God. You know the kind — raw, honest, maybe a little teary-eyed, and definitely a little frustrated. I asked Him, “Why do you keep sending me the same struggles over and over to walk through? I get it, I didn’t handle it well the first time, but I swear I’ve learned the lesson this time!”

And here’s the thing — this time, I had done the work. I’d reflected, grown, and moved differently. I’d made better choices, responded with more patience, and kept my ego in check. So, why was I standing face-to-face with the same challenge again? It felt like being called back to retake a test I already passed.

Then, clear as day, I heard it. “Yes, you have learned the lesson. This is not your lesson to learn anymore.”

Okay, God…what do you mean by that?

And then it hit me. This wasn’t my lesson anymore. This was about something bigger. It was about being the example.

I instantly thought of a moment in time that is so vivid and one I go back to over and over again. Back in middle school, Wednesday night youth group, I sat on those old metal folding chairs and prayed, “Use me, God.” I can still feel that teenage sincerity, fully believing I was about to be whisked away on some grand missionary adventure. Because back then, I thought “being used by God” meant a plane ticket to a far-off country where I’d do big, important, world-changing things. My view of God’s work was so limited. I had no clue what I was actually asking for.

But now I know better. God doesn’t need us to fly across the world. He works through us exactly where we are, exactly as we are, with our own unique set of gifts and flaws. Right here. Right now.

And I can see it so clearly now. He placed me in the lives of these mentees — a couple dozen people who are watching, listening, and learning from me — not because I’m perfect, but because I’m human. Flawed and learning right alongside them. But also wise, loving, and full of grace that I only have because of everything I’ve been through. God doesn’t need me to be polished. He just needs me to be present.

I also vividly remember for YEARS praying every night that God would give me strength and wisdom. When I say, “be careful what you wish for” boy do I mean it. Because in my experience, God doesn’t GIVE you strength and wisdom, He TEACHES you strength and wisdom. At some point in my late twenties I began to realize every challenge I navigate in life teaches me something and has made me stronger and wiser….just as I begged God to do.

But here’s the real epiphany, and one that I think you can take into your own life and personal growth journey — it’s not just about being an example for them. It’s about being the person I needed when I was younger. The one I wish I’d had. The woman who shows up, stands firm, and says, “I see you. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.” It’s about being the woman who doesn’t just point you toward the path — she walks it with you. The one who fights for you when you don’t know how to fight for yourself.

I didn’t always have that person in my life. I had to figure out a lot of things the hard way, and honestly, I wouldn’t change it because those struggles made me who I am. But I think that’s exactly why God put me here. He knows I’ll show up, because I know what it feels like to need someone to show up for you.

So, when the same old struggle shows up at my door, I’ll know it’s not to test me anymore. It’s to show them what it looks like to walk through it with wisdom, patience, and faith. It’s so they can see that you don’t have to be afraid of it. That you can face it, survive it, and even grow from it. It’s about modeling what grace and strength looks like in action.

It’s funny how God always answers, even when you’re too stubborn to see it at first. I asked Him to use me, and He is. Not in the way I imagined, but in a way that’s so much more real and personal.

So if you’re finding yourself face-to-face with a familiar battle, and you’re wondering why you’re back here again, maybe it’s not about you anymore. Maybe it’s about them — the ones watching you. The ones who are quietly learning how to carry their own burdens by watching how you carry yours.

And maybe it’s also about her — the younger version of you who didn’t have anyone to look up to. Now you get to be that person for someone else.

Stay steady, friend. Someone’s learning from you. Someone’s counting on you. And somebody, somewhere, finally feels seen because of you. 💛

Warmly,
Kendra