Humble Beginning

They say beginnings are rarely glamorous. Nobody posts the first shaky push-up at the gym or their first burnt attempt at baking bread. Likewise, I didn’t exactly plan for my journey of sharing the gospel to begin the way it did—it wasn’t a lightning bolt from heaven or a grand revival moment. It started small. Quiet. Almost sneaky. Just a whisper in my heart that I could brush aside for a while.

At first, I told myself: “Relax. You don’t need to do this right now. Maybe later, when you’re wiser, holier, and, let’s be honest, a little less awkward.” But here’s the problem with God’s calling: it doesn’t shrink when you ignore it. It grows. It’s like trying to put a lid on boiling water—the longer you resist, the messier it gets.

Jesus makes it simple: “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden” (Matthew 5:14). Notice what He didn’t say: “You might be the light” or “You’ll become the light once you’ve perfected your Bible memorization.” Nope. If you’re in Christ, you’re already shining—even if you’d prefer to stay dim in the corner.

For me, the more I tried to play it safe, the more uncomfortable I became. The desire to share His Word started showing up everywhere—conversations with friends, little nudges during prayer, even in my everyday thoughts. God was basically saying, “You can’t sit this one out.” And He was right.

Paul put it best: “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” (1 Corinthians 9:16). Dramatic? Maybe. True? Absolutely. The gospel isn’t just good advice; it’s good news—the best news. And keeping it bottled up started to feel not just impossible, but disobedient.

Now, let me be real. Sharing the gospel isn’t about having everything figured out or presenting some flawless “Instagram-worthy” faith. If anything, it’s about admitting we don’t have it all together—but we know the One who does. As Paul reminded the church: “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). Cracked pots, but still carriers of glory. That’s us.

So this is my humble beginning. Not polished, not perfect, but surrendered. A choice to step out in faith instead of hiding behind excuses. A decision to trust that God can use even my small voice to echo His eternal truth.

And honestly? I’m excited. Excited to see what He will do with this little “yes.” Excited to watch how a mustard seed of obedience might grow into something bigger than I can imagine. After all, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).

If you’re reading this, maybe you’re at your own beginning too. Maybe God has been nudging you, whispering, or flat-out shoving you toward something you’ve been putting off. Don’t wait for the perfect timing—it doesn’t exist. Start small. Start humble. Just start. Because when God is in it, no beginning is too small to matter.