Sometimes I wonder what picture comes to mind when you read something I’ve written.
Maybe you imagine a woman sitting in a quiet office, sipping coffee while she works through her latest thoughts. Perhaps you picture a team of people helping behind the scenes, making sure the website works, the emails go out, and everything looks as polished as it does on the screen.
I hate to disappoint you, but there’s a little more chaos behind this butterfly than you might imagine.
I dedicate approximately three days a week to this ministry, and that time encompasses far more than writing.
There’s the writing and editing, preparing the Tuesday and Friday community emails, maintaining the website, troubleshooting whatever decides to go wrong, creating content to help people find the work, and learning the technical pieces that don’t necessarily come naturally.
And all of this happens alongside my responsibilities at home and caring for my elderly father, who lives seven hours away.
But this isn’t a post declaring, “Look at how much I do!”
It’s simply a transparent look inside the framework of my life—as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a friend, a child of the Most High, and a woman trying to use the gifts my Creator placed in my spirit.
Because there’s a real woman behind these words. And she’s living life in the trenches, just like you.
I’ve built a website, learned to use email platforms, created content across multiple channels, and continued developing this ministry despite my technical limitations.
But I’ll never be a web developer. I don’t have a marketing department. And I’m certainly not an expert in every platform I use.
Sometimes I make mistakes. Sometimes something takes far longer than it should. Sometimes I have to backtrack, figure out what went wrong, and try again.
And sometimes, in the middle of everything else, something slips through.
Like last week.
I knew I’d be out of town dealing with doctors’ appointments for Dad, so I scheduled Tuesday’s and Friday’s community emails in advance.
Only I got the dates wrong.
And both emails landed in your inbox on the same day!
Well, y’all… it happens.
I could beat myself up over it, make excuses, or decide I’m not cut out for this because I clearly haven’t mastered the art of scheduling an email.
Or I can recognize the mistake, correct what needs correcting, learn from it, and keep going.
Because a mistake doesn’t automatically invalidate the work.
I’m not sharing these details to excuse carelessness or lower my standards. I care about the quality of what I do. I take my responsibilities seriously, and of course I want to improve.
But there’s a difference between pursuing excellence and expecting yourself to be excellent at everything.
Readers see the finished product. They don’t see the revisions, the learning curve, the time spent troubleshooting, or the things we had to figure out along the way.
And neither do we when we look at other people’s lives.
We see the finished website, the successful business, the beautifully presented project, the woman who seems to have found her stride.
We don’t see the years she spent learning. We don’t know what she had to work through, what she still struggles with, or what remains unfinished.
We compare our behind-the-scenes reality to someone else’s finished presentation, then conclude that we’re not equipped to begin.
But the ability to do something meaningful doesn’t require mastery of every skill it takes to accomplish it.
You can have something worthwhile to say and still struggle with the technology needed to share it. You can have a vision without knowing every step required to bring it to life.
You can be capable in one area and still be learning in another.
And isn’t that how growth works?
We often underestimate what we’re capable of because we focus on what we lack.
We tell ourselves:
I’m not technical enough.
I don’t know enough yet.
I’m not naturally gifted at that.
I don’t have enough time.
I need to get better before I put myself out there.
And sometimes, those concerns are legitimate. There are skills we need to develop, responsibilities we need to honor, and limits we need to respect.
But sometimes, we turn a limitation into a permanent verdict.
There’s a difference between acknowledging that you don’t know how to do something and deciding you can’t learn.
There’s a difference between recognizing that your time is limited and assuming that meaningful progress is impossible.
And there’s a difference between being unprepared and being unwilling to look imperfect while you learn.
You may not be able to do everything. But you may be able to do far more than you’ve given yourself permission to attempt.
You don’t need a staff, a perfect website, a complete skill set, or a flawless plan to take the next responsible step.
You need to recognize what you have, be honest about what you lack, learn what you can, ask for help when necessary, and be willing to begin.
Faithfulness Doesn’t Require Flawless Execution
I believe God has given each of us gifts, opportunities, and responsibilities. What those look like will differ from one woman to the next. So will the seasons we’re walking through and the capacity we have available to us.
But we don’t have to be fully equipped for every part of the journey before we take the next step.
We can pursue excellence without making perfection our price of admission.
We can acknowledge our limitations without allowing them to become excuses for staying where we are.
And we can keep learning without treating every mistake as evidence that we should never have started.
Becoming who you were created to be doesn’t happen after you’ve finally gotten everything right.
It happens as you keep responding to what you’re learning, where you’re being stretched, and what the next season requires of you.
I’m still learning. I’m still figuring things out. And I’m still showing up.
Not because I’ve mastered it all, but because I believe the work matters.
And I suspect there are things that matter to you, too. Things you’ve thought about doing, creating, changing, or pursuing—but haven’t, because you don’t feel quite ready.
Maybe you need more time. Maybe you need to learn a few things. Maybe you need to ask for help or make a plan that respects the season you’re in.
Those are real considerations. Give them the attention they deserve.
But don’t automatically mistake not knowing how for not being capable.
You don’t have to become an expert at everything before you take your first step. You don’t have to eliminate every weakness before you begin using your strengths.
And you don’t have to wait for life to become perfectly manageable before you begin becoming the woman you were created to be.
There’s a real woman behind these words. She’s got responsibilities, limitations, things she’s good at, and plenty she still needs to learn.
She’s going to get some things wrong.
And she’s going to keep going.
Because progress is messy. Transformation is beautiful. And grace makes it possible.
Maybe you can give yourself permission to do the same.
Until Next Time,
Stay Brave My Friend!
