God doesn’t call the qualified. He qualifies the called. You’ve probably heard that. The harder question is whether you, like me, are ready to believe it.

We’re not worthy.

That’s the honest starting point. Not false humility, not a performance, just the plain truth most of us carry around quietly. And yet, somehow, that’s not where the story ends.

Because worthy or not, we can still be willing. We can still be able. We can still take a step forward and say, I’m here. Use me for whatever you need.

That shift, from “I’m not enough” to “I’m available,” is where something starts to move. And often, the first thing availability looks like is prayer. Not a polished prayer. Not a confident one. Just an honest conversation with God that starts with, I’m here. What do you need from me?

Prayer is easy for some people. For others it’s one of the hardest things they do. And leading prayer? That’s another level entirely.

I know this firsthand.

I didn’t know I was a storyteller yet. That came later. When an organization I served put me in charge of the prayer team, all I knew was that I cared about the people in the room. And in that moment, we all needed God to show up.

My response was pure Moses, What? Me? You’ve got the wrong guy. I wasn’t being modest. I genuinely believed they had miscounted.

But then I remembered why they asked.

We were in a meeting that was coming apart at the seams. The COO and the President were both talking, the tension was rising, and something in me said this needs to stop right now. So I interrupted both of them, which is not a small thing, and said, “We need to stop and pray. Right now.”

Did I expect them to listen? I honestly don’t know. But I said what needed to be said when it needed to happen.

They stopped.

We prayed.

And those prayers, in that specific moment, were answered.

I went on to lead that prayer team. Not because I was the most qualified person in the room. But because I stepped up when I could have stayed silent. Afterward, the President pulled me aside. He wasn’t surprised by what happened. He told me that moment was exactly why he had chosen me. He had watched me in rooms before. He knew what I would do when things got hard.

I didn’t know that about myself yet. He did.

That’s usually how it works.

When we come forward with open hands, God doesn’t leave us standing there empty. He fills in what’s missing. Sometimes that looks like encouragement that arrives at exactly the right moment. Sometimes it’s a strategy you never would have thought of on your own. A community that shows up around you. A word that hits at just the right depth.

And words matter more than we usually admit. “Put away perversity from your mouth; keep corrupt talk far from your lips” (Proverbs 4:24). There’s an old idea that the words of the tongue should pass through three gatekeepers before they leave your mouth: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? Three simple questions that can change the temperature of a room, a relationship, a life.

God gives us words as tools. The least we can do is use them carefully. I’ve spent most of my life thinking about words, choosing them, arranging them, testing them against the truth of a moment. A storyteller learns quickly that the right word at the right time can open something in a person that nothing else could reach. But careful isn’t the whole story. God doesn’t just ask us to guard what we have. He asks us to give it.

What matters isn’t whether you’re rich or poor, whether you have much or very little. What matters is how you respond to what Jesus has done for you and what you do with what you have.

The widow Jesus watched in the temple didn’t give much by anyone’s measure. Two small coins. But she gave everything she had, and Jesus stopped to point at her life as the standard. Not the wealthy donors. Her. God made something beautiful out of that moment that has been remembered for all time.

That’s the invitation sitting in front of all of us. Not perfection. Not a certain income or a certain platform or a certain set of credentials. Just willingness. Just open hands.

The old promise holds: By prayer and petition, make your requests known to God. Simple, direct, no ceremony required. Just honesty.

And here’s the part that still gets me, God answers. Every single time. Not always the way I was hoping. Not always on my schedule. But He answers. The answer might be yes, or wait, or not this, but something better. All three are real answers. All three require trust.

So the real question is will God really show up.

Yes. He always does.

Are you ready to say yes?

Because ready is willing to serve, not ready to.